Sunday morning hockey

Right now I am 18 years old and in my freshman year of college. My brothers are four and six years older than me and we get along great now. However, that was not the case growing up. Since my brothers were only two years apart they were a lot closer together than with me. Subsequently being the youngest my brothers beat me up a bit, usually verbally but not always. I hated them for it and never thought there would come a day that I would actually thank them for it.
Getting crap from my brothers for every little thing I did created a tougher shell around me and taught me to just roll with the punches and realize that most of the time its not worth doing anything. You look like an immature jerk for overreacting and it is better to just be a man and own up. When it comes to sports everybody make mistakes and has an off day, even the pros. It is how you act on days like this that defines your true character.
All summer my brothers and I had been going to our city park to play hockey every Sunday. We would get to the rinks around 10:30 and by then there would be enough skaters to start a pickup game. The range of players spread all skill levels spanning all ages from 14 to late 50’s. Everyone’s favorite part of Sunday morning hockey was that it was strictly for fun. Nobody even kept score.