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This week marked the return of the Minnesota high school boys state hockey tournament. It's also usually around this time of year when my parents' DVD player, sitting idle and collecting dust in the TV cabinet, gets its annual use. If I'm around, my dad will pull out a couple of old videos from when I played in the state tournament, and we'll watch them together. The DVD player doesn't get much use otherwise, hence the dust, and it's a nice way to spend a few hours together.

I was fortunate enough to play in the state tournament in 2014. To this day, I can still remember stepping onto the ice at the Xcel Energy Center for the first time as a 17-year-old kid. It was smaller than I expected, and the extra-tall glass panes along the boards made me feel like I was in a fishbowl.

From ice level, the stadium itself didn't seem that big, either. That is, until I looked over at our student section and saw all of two or three rows of seats filled in. I went to high school at a small private school, so we didn't have a lot of fans. And being a private school didn't help us win any love from other folks. But in the end it didn't matter that our fan section was so small. They made up for their lack of numbers with plenty of enthusiasm, and made it feel like there were more than enough of them.

For a high school hockey player in Minnesota, there is nothing better than getting to play in front of your school at the state tournament. Actually — in front of the whole state of Minnesota. It's amazing what we do in this state, tuning in from every corner to watch young athletes compete for a few days. Is it excessive? Of course. There's no reason that high school games should sell out a professional sports stadium. But if you're fortunate enough to be there, on the ice, it feels pretty special. The excitement is immense. The goals feel bigger. And at an age where life experience is pretty minimal, it feels like a big accomplishment.

Fast forward 10 years, and hockey isn't a big part of my life anymore. But it was up until I graduated high school. And it wasn't just my life. It was "our" lives. Because it was a big part of my parents lives, too. They made it happen with their time, money and encouragement. Hockey is no small commitment. It's expensive and demands a lot of time. My parents spent hundreds of hours driving me down to the Twin Cities for practice during the summer, and hours driving to games during the winter, and thousands of dollars on ice fees. So what was it all for? Let me tell you.

Sitting on the couch with my dad and watching old games isn't about reliving the "glory days." It's about acknowledging the sacrifices my parents made and celebrating the product of those sacrifices: old videos and time spent together. So even if your career ends in high school like my own, the memories I made then, while I was still a player, and those I've made since, rewatching games with my parents, were worth it. And now, watching that game on the TV with my dad is almost as good as playing. Almost.

Matthew Fritz, of Minneapolis, is an engineer.