It’s five a.m. and my mom went into the room to wake him up. His half-opened eyes look at her in disappointment. "Is it really time to get up already?" he asks.

Tired from the night before, he gets out of bed only to feel the breeze of icy air coming into his room. Shivering, he quickly puts on his clothes, and grabs his hockey and school bags. Heading out the door, he gives my mom a kiss, and goes into the already warmed up car. He and dad drive off to practice.

This would seem like a pretty rough life for anyone, huh? Try being seven.

Zachary started playing hockey when he was three years old. He went from pushing carts on the ice, just barely keeping his balance, to becoming one of the top players in his age group in the country.

For my last column, I would like to share with my readers my true inspiration for wanting to be a sports writer: my younger brother, Zachary.

Ever since he was little, Zachary showed the characteristics of a true hockey player. Starting at the age of five, he knew what it was like to be on a traveling hockey team. When Zachary played as a mini mite, which is the youngest team in the program, the audience would watch him in awe.

The way he maneuvered the puck in and out of the opposing team like a yo-yo , the way he controlled the ice with his plays and ability to view the game in such a way that no other five- year- old could. It may seem far fetched, but it was at that moment that my family knew we had a future NHL star on our hands.

He began to shock his coaches with his dedication to his teammates and the game. He started to be the captain of every team he played on whether it was the Long Island Royals, Bobcats, or Gulls. It was then that Zachary’s game was played not only for himself but for his team as well.

Zachary averaged more assists in a season than goals scored. He would set up passes that would baffle the opposing team, keeping them still looking for the puck long after the goal was scored. It was then that we knew that it was not only an NHL star we had on our hands but the next Wayne Gretzky.

Being a young teen at this time, I watched my brother in complete amazement. While other teenagers were out with their friends every weekend, I spent my weekends at hockey tournaments. I would wear his jersey to every game, cheering him on. It wasn’t like any other family event that one would dread going to; I fully enjoyed watching Zachary. I would watch him on the ice and be proud to be wearing his number in the stands.

But advancing in his sport was not the only thing that he did well. Zachary, like any other sports player, had to deal with upsets in his career as well. He channeled these upsets into learning experiences that made him a stronger player.

In 2001 Zachary, as an 11-year-old, brought his team the L.I. Gulls to the New York state championship. His team made it to the championship game, where they battled the Long Island Royals to see who would go onto Nationals in Colorado.

Determined to win, my brother played his heart out that game. I had sat in the stands with my fingers crossed, knowing that this game meant the world to my brother. The Gulls had been behind 1-0 in the first, then trailing in the second 2-1. Mid way through the third they tied up the score making it 2-2. With three seconds to go in regulation time, the Royals scored taking away the title and the trip to Colorado from the team's fingertips. Seeing my brother’s face, I walked out of the rink and started to cry. My brother was completely silent the whole car ride home, and I couldn’t find any words to say.

In 2005, Zachary got his wish; he took his team to the National Championships in Chicago, Ill.

However, it wasn’t until this year that I saw my brother’s strength at its fullest. Zachary is currently playing for two teams: the Long Island Royals and the team of his prep school, Portledge. In February, Zachary had a game in Pennsylvania for Portledge. He spent twelve hours on the bus that day with an excruciating pain in his stomach. Barely being able to formulate a sentence, he knew he needed to sit the game out.

When Zachary came home that night and went to the hospital he found out that his appendix had ruptured. He went into immediate surgery and was not allowed to play hockey for three weeks to a month; or so he was told. Knowing that playoffs were in a few weeks, Zachary tried with all his might to get better quickly.

From not being able to walk, in two weeks Zachary was back on the ice, once again fighting for the title.

I look at my brother and I not only see an amazing hockey player but a young man who has grown immensely since that little boy slipping and sliding on the ice. Hockey has changed my brother’s life in so many ways, making him stronger in many different aspects of life. Ever since I came to St. Michael’s College, I have not been able to see that many of Zachary’s hockey games. In a way with this transition, I lost a portion of my life that I enjoyed most. But because of that, I have decided to show my love for sports through my writing.

So, thank you for reading my column this past semester, it was greatly appreciated.