Blades of Glory

Its 6:45 PM at Icetown Rinks in Riverside, California. There are over 30 young
athletes present, all donning their pads and sweaters, checking and re-checking their
stick-tape, and performing all manner of pregame rituals that only the deep seeded
superstitions of hockey culture could breed. 22 year-old Devon Talcott is no different.
As those final, unrelentingly sluggish 15 minutes to game-time tick away, he will wrap
the blades of his sticks from toe to heel exactly 15 turns, he will ingest one full banana
and one half of a lemon-lime flavored Gatorade, and he will hit himself hard on both of
his thighs, left leg first. Always the left leg first. He has been playing hockey now for 14
years, and these are the exact habits hes upheld for every single game that he can
remember. Some rituals, however, have recently changed. For example, when he heads
out of the locker room and takes the ice, he can no longer plant his left skate first as he
has since adolescence. He can no longer get down low and do frog-leg stretches to nurse
an old muscle sprain. He can no longer kick the puck to his stick when his teammate
makes an errant pass. He cant power-skate and hockey-stop, sending a flurry of snow
jokingly into a fellow-players face. He cant do these things, because he has lost the
ability to. Devon Talcott is, in fact, a paraplegic.
Five years ago, on December 14th, 2009, Talcott and his father, Rhys, were headed
home from a late-night practice. They decided to take the long way and stop to grab
Chinese from their favorite spot, to eat while they watched game-footage from the
previous weeks game. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision that, unbeknownst to either
of the two men, would change their two lives forever. Takeout in hand, not even five

miles from home, their Nissan Altima was plowed into in the middle of a small
intersection by a large SUV. After annihilating the passenger side of the vehicle, and
causing irreversible damage to Talcotts spine, the SUV drove off into the night and
disappeared forever.
All I wanted to know is if hed be able to walk again, says Rhys, a glint of a
smile in his eye as he looks across the room at his son, and all he wanted to know is if
hed ever play hockey again.
Miraculously enough, the answer to the former question was no, but the answer to
the latter question was yes.
I was told Id never walk again fairly early on. I accepted that pretty quickly.
Sure, there was a period of mourning the loss of my legs Id definitely grown attached
to them over the years [laughs] but, I mean, I had to make the best of it. I started
Googling, found out about sled-hockey, and decided that Id dedicate my seven months
of physical therapy to getting in shape for that, says Talcott.
Sled hockey, or sledge hockey as its known outside North America, is played
exactly like classic ice-hockey, with one twist: the players are fastened to two-bladed ice
sleds, and propel themselves around with twin icepick/hockey stick hybrids. They shoot,
deke, check, and fight just the same as the big-boys, and Devon Talcott was 100 percent
dedicated to playing it one day.
It became something of an obsession. I had to play again in some capacity. Id
had my ability to walk taken away from me suddenly, without warning and there was
nothing I could do about it. But this, this I had control over. This I knew I could do. It
was my carrot-on-a-stick. It kept me going.

And go he did. Recovery was supposed to take over a year, and Talcott was on
the ice, scoring goals and making plays in just under nine months. He felt he was ready
even sooner, but doctors advised him against it to avoid further injury, advice which he
begrudgingly accepted.
Mark Riggins, head coach of Talcotts current team, the Wailers, says that the
competitive spirit and drive Devon showed not only in his recovery, but in his play on the
ice, is like nothing hes ever seen before.
Hes a leader, and a fighter, definitely. No questions there. When I first met the
kid, he was dead-set on starting in the next weeks game. He hadnt even sat upright on a
sled yet, and he was trying to captain the US Paralympic team right out of the gate. I
knew I had something special in him. He scored a goal and two assists in his first game
out, and has been nothing but consistent since, said Riggins in a phone interview.
Since he finished recovery and began playing sled hockey, Devon has led the
team in scoring for three straight years, and was promoted to Captain his second. He has
spoken to countless paralysis support-groups, telling them his story of perseverance and
passion to hopefully inspire others to believe in a happy, full life after the loss of the use
of their limbs.
I was never bitter. That guy [who hit us] has to live for the rest of his life with
the guilt hanging over him thats not my problem. My problem was taking my licks
and rolling with them, learning from them. I picked up that mentality from playing
hockey, so I guess it was only fitting that hockey is what got me through this whole
ordeal with my sanity and happiness intact. Ill never stop loving this sport because
this sport has done nothing but love me.