Bryan Bickell’s career came to a tragic end this past year after doctors diagnosed him with Multiple Sclerosis, a demyelinating disease in which the insulating covers of nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord are damaged. Though his name will always be linked to M.S, the Stanley Cup champ's true desire is to be remembered for his tough playing style.
In an emotional open letter penned in The Player’s Tribune, Bickell shared his experience being diagnosed, and how it affected both his hockey career and personal life.
The Orono, Ontario native first touched on when he recognized his game starting to fade.
The following is an excerpt from the Player’s Tribune:
It’s a question we all have to ask ourselves sometimes. Sucking is a part of life. Like, no matter how good you actually are at whatever sport, there’s someone out there who is ready to tell you that you suck at it. I definitely heard it in Anaheim (2015 Western Conference Final). “You suck, Bickell!” It’s worse when they’re right, and you’ve been sucking for so long that you start thinking about picking the brain of the shirtless guy behind the glass who’s double-fisting beers. “I know I do, shirtless guy. But why?””
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He then recalls a scary incident in which he ultimately realized something wasn’t right.
The following is an excerpt from the Player’s Tribune:
By the conference finals, I was beside myself. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Game 5 was my breaking point. I took a hit into the boards early in the third period and I couldn’t catch my breath, even after I got to the bench. I eventually huffed and puffed back to the locker room before I fainted, right there in the doorway. I fell face-first into a wall on my way down. I’m honestly lucky I still had my helmet on. When I came to, the first thing I saw was the trainer, hovering over me with smelling salts. “I think you need to see a doctor.””
From there, he goes on to explain how the doctors were unable to determine the diagnosis until a year and a half later. It was too difficult for him to break the news to his wife Amanda himself, so he had her hear it from the doctor in a separate visit.
... Heart-breaking stuff.
His story takes a lighter turn, as he was informed that he could play in 11 more games following the diagnosis. Bickell then touches on when he was presented with an opportunity to shoot in the shootout in his final game.
Here's how it went.
“April 9, 2017 was the last time I would ever put on a uniform, the last time I would hop over the bench — and the last time Philadelphia fans would chirp me as I hopped over the bench. “You suck, Bickell!” Ah, it’s the best. I skated down the ice and tuned everything out. For the next five seconds, everything was totally back to how it had always been. It was what I knew my whole life. It didn’t even matter if I scored — I was playing hockey again, and it was heaven. Ting. I scored. Off the post and into the back of the net. My first shot and my last shot in the National Hockey League were both goals. Even the Philly fans cheered for me. What a moment. To end things off, shared the legacy which he hopes to eventually establish. When you remember the career of Bryan Bickell, I don’t want you to think about the guy with M.S. I want you to think about the guy who loved this game so much that he stole Hossa’s stinky knee brace so he could play with a torn MCL. I want you to think about the guy who worked for it, and stuck with it, and won at it. I want you to think about the guy who retired on his own terms — and then moved through his 30s and 40s, into his 50s and 60s, into his 70s and 80s, like he skated through his 20s. By grinding, one day at a time.”
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And that’s how he should be remembered.
All the best, Bryan.
For the full article, click here.
(H/T The Players’ Tribune)
