Now that she has retired, people may wonder of the most successful female hockey player in history: What was Hayley Wickenheiser like at the beginning, in her mid-teens, when she first made Canada's national women's hockey team?
In a word, independent. She was remarkably, convincingly, authoritatively independent – in the way she thought, in the way she acted and in the way she plotted her life's path.
The first time I ever spoke with her, I had a pair of headphones on and was working next to Jock Wilson, the radio host of the Calgary Flames broadcasts. Wickenheiser sat between us, a 16-year-old who'd come into the studio – by herself, late at night – to speak about the upcoming women's world championships.
Most teenagers at that time – before the Internet, cellphones and Instagram – were shy and difficult to interview, with little to say. Not Wickenheiser.
She was calm, confident and mature beyond her years. When asked about the possibility of playing as a position player in the NHL at some point in her career – at this point, Manon Rhéaume had already blazed the trail in goal – she was realistic: It would be unlikely because of the physiological differences between men and women. But she wasn't prepared to rule it out either.
Right around then, Mark Miller of the Calgary Sun invited her to join the weekly Calgary media shinny games. Wickenheiser, who was always looking for a chance to get on the ice, said yes and came out and played a number of times. These were big, grown men she was going up against – some of them pretty good players – but, naturally, she more than held her own. Not many teenagers – boys or girls – would have done that.
But she did. She was single-minded. She made her own choices – and always moved comfortably in the company of older people. She had an old soul, even as a young person.
At the Winter Olympics in Nagano in 1998, she was the second-youngest player on the first Canadian women's team to compete for an Olympic medal (Jennifer Botterill, at 16, was younger). The Americans had a talented team that year – really no better or worse than the Canadians, but with greater poise – and ultimately won the gold.
At the postgame news conference, I suggested to Wickenheiser – with the silver medal around her neck and in tears – that at some point in her life, much later, she would come to appreciate that she had won an Olympic medal, even if it wasn't gold.
In hindsight, I realize I read that situation completely wrong. Wickenheiser just hated not winning. Eventually, she won four more Olympic medals – all of them gold – and I belatedly understood why she valued the silver so much less. She saw it as a second-place finish in a two-horse race – and she wasn't interested in an award just for participating. She burned to win. She was one of the most competitive athletes I've ever seen.
Over the years, we bumped into each other all over the world – Olympic championships on three continents, the 2006 women's worlds in Linkoping, Sweden. She always had an honest answer or thoughtful observation for any question you posed.
By then, she'd already played men's professional hockey in Sweden and Finland, but eventually abandoned it – not because of the competition, but because she felt such intense loneliness, being so far away from family, friends and her support group.
She's been chipping away at her education for most of her adult life and in November completed her master's degree in medical studies. She still has some research work to submit for publication, and then she'll be off to medical school.
When I asked how long it would be before we could start addressing her as Dr. Wickenheiser, she laughed and said: "Who knows? It depends upon what specialty you take. But I want to do emergency trauma. I've shadowed a lot in hospitals across the country the last number of years. Emergency trauma is a lot like hockey. You've got to work in a team. Everybody has an ego that has to be managed. You have a lot of pressure to make decisions quickly, so there's that adrenaline flow, and I think that's what draws me to it.
"It doesn't seem to bother me, seeing some tough stuff, so I think that's the route I will go. But everybody says, when you get in, you have to reserve the right to change your mind."
One of the byproducts of her 23-year career is the generation of young female players she inspired to pursue their Olympic dreams. The player pool in Canada has never been greater, and that might have created an issue: Wickenheiser trying to make the team at 39, when so many younger players were nipping at her heels.
So retiring was the right choice on a lot of different levels. It allows her to go out on her own terms, which is what every great athlete deserves. The fact the best male player in the world, Wayne Gretzky, acted as the MC at her retirement ceremony spoke volumes about the respect she has earned in the hockey world. Hayley Wickenheiser will surely be missed – but never forgotten.