It was a beautiful evening. The sun was just setting, a cool breeze was blowing, and everything around me carried with it a certain feeling that summer would soon turn to fall. Wishing not to spoil such a perfect day, I laced up my in-lines for a peaceful skate around the park.

Rolling through, I noticed what appeared to be a hockey puck along my path. Showing great concern for those around me who may accidentally trip on the rather odd obstacle, I decided that it would be best if I simply moved it out of the way. I skated over, intending to clear the puck out. That was when the horror started.

From an unseen distance, some reckless derelict carrying a hockey stick came skating towards me, gaining speed as he approached. With an evil grin on his face, which I could see through the clear shield on his helmet, he yelled out “move it, Grandpa!”

The rest was a blur. I was violently slammed into the boards, pushed down by an aluminum hockey stick. I felt my shoulder compressing, my lungs collapsing, and the sheer terror of seeing this scythe-wielding grim reaper looking down at me, assessing and enjoying the traumatic damage he had caused. Gritting his teeth, he growled “I said heads up, old timer!”

In absolute pain, I kept my head down on the pavement, closed my eyes, and begged The Good Lord for mercy. I prayed that the Lord would forgive the young man who assaulted me. I also prayed that he may someday see the error in his ways and amend his life. But most of all, I prayed for aspirin.