Puck.
I miss the feeling, gliding effortlessly and gracefully over the ground, making turns and spins that confuse those trying to follow the movements and ending in a precise twist of the wrist, sending that small rubber disk flying through the air and into the criss-crossed fingers of the net. Blurring stick work, blazing skating and blinding shooting...I miss the game, I miss the puck.....
....And of course, I miss body baggin' the over zealous enforcers.
