Jessica Belmosto

Hi! It’s me, Jess. I started this blog a few years ago to share my writing that would sit in my journals and never be read by anyone but me. It then turned into me sharing my sports take which evolved into me falling in love with sports journalism. Since it’s been a while, I figured I’d share and reflect on the past year or so.

After the Bruins lost game 7 of the Stanley Cup final, I felt more committed to hockey coverage than I ever had. I was determined to bring Bruins fans hope and help them get over the long offseason of seeing St. Louis celebrate what should’ve been their’s.

I’ve done that. I know that I have poured my heart and soul into hockey coverage for multiple platforms and made some great connections from it. It’s kind of crazy to see how a sport can bring people together.

My favorite part about the writing community is meeting people who are like me. Whether it be a similar upbringing, getting into hockey later than most, or having faced adversity in life. I’ll be honest, the Bruins have brought some rather amazing people into my life and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

Regular Season Losses

The 2019-2020 season was fun. I loved watching the games at home or making a last minute decision to head to the Garden. I remember being in American Literature II last fall and Bradley surprising me with tickets to see Anders Bjork’s NHL season debut. It made the hard work in class worth it

I moved away from Boston back in January. It was a good decision. I moved away from what I felt was holding me back. Moving a few days after the first loss I ever faced was hard but so worth it. Hockey in January can be dreadful and boring, especially if you’re running away with the division. Watching those games kept me distracted and focused on something other than grief. I’m thankful for that.

A few weeks after I moved, I lost my dad. My whole world crumbled at my feet. Everything I knew was simply gone. The one person I could call if I was having a horrible day or needed someone to talk to while I grocery shopped was no longer there. My heart was empty and my love for hockey wasn’t there anymore. Anytime Tuukka let in a goal I could hear my dad saying, “Soft, he’s washed.” or something so over dramatic that it’d make for perfect Boston sports radio commentary. I dreaded puck drop.

Igniting The Flame

I’m someone who hyper-fixates on things. For me to fall out of love with something of great value to me means that all the wrong boxes are checked off and my wires are crossed.

I don’t remember how it happened but I eventually stopped throwing a pity party and began enjoying hockey again. You know, I didn’t expect to stop feeling sorry for myself so soon after but I knew I had to build a bridge and get over it. Hockey was something my dad loved and I loved watching it with him!

I wouldn’t roll over and “fall asleep” when Bradley would put them game on. I’d make myself talk to him and keep me engaged. I don’t think he knows it but he helped my fall back in love with the game.

One night I randomly tweeted about wanting to host a show on the Locked On NHL network. I heard back that night and basically got the gig a few days later. I would be covering the Calgary Flames.

Did I know anything about the team? No. Would I learn? Yes. It was a huge step outside of my comfort zone but I love it. I’ve come out of my shell a lot since February and have made some strides professionally. Now I have an awesome cohost who has helped elevate the show. It’s fantastic!

The Hard Truth

If I were still living in Boston, there’s not a doubt in my mind that depression and grief would have consumed me. I would’ve become one with my bed and rotted my brain watching true crime videos. Thankfully, I didn’t let that happen.

Bad days still happen. I mean hell, just yesterday I started crying because I couldn’t call my dad to talk about how horrible the Red Sox are playing. It’s those little things that still manage to get under my skin without realizing it.

Grieving is hard and it’ll never be done and over with. A good friend of mine told me that grieving isn’t linear and seeing that text made me cry even more. It wasn’t like she hurt my feelings but it reminded me that this is unfortunately the rest of my life.

I won’t be able to call my dad when David Krejci retires or when one of my favorites inevitably gets traded away. He won’t be there to wake me down the isle either. He won’t be able to hold my first born child and won’t be there to do what grandpas do.

Wrap it up

This blog isn’t anything special besides me rambling about grief and hockey but man, without hockey- I think 2020 would be even crummier.

It’s more than a game to me. It’s remembering being confused at my first Bruins game because I didn’t understand how a team from North Carolina could skate. It’s learning that icing isn’t when the player creates ice with their skate. It’s reading your dad the box scores from the night before while he’s on life support. It’s continuing to write in his honor.

If you’ve got a loved one who has a certain passion, sit down and talk about it with them. Watch how they light up when sharing a story. Hold onto those moments. They’ll mean a lot when they aren’t here anymore.