Honoring #10 tonight before puck drop @NYRangers vs @LAKings at the Garden 💔bittersweet❤️ @RonDuguay10 #duguay #ronduguay #nyr

It’s with a shattered heart, but also deep peace knowing Ron is with Jesus now. He fought so hard. Love never ends❤️ @RonDuguay10

There was a time when getting something new was a pretty big deal. And I'm not talking about a new car or a new house. I'm talking about a new pair of sneakers. A baseball glove. A bicycle. Maybe even a brand-new winter coat. Growing up in the '70s and '80s, you didn't just get something because you wanted it. You waited. Sometimes you waited until your birthday. Sometimes Christmas. Sometimes your parents told you they'd think about it, which usually meant you weren't getting it anytime soon. And when you finally got that thing you'd been asking for, you appreciated every inch of it. You wore those new sneakers around the house because you couldn't wait until Monday to show your friends. You slept with your new baseball glove next to your bed. You rode that bicycle until your legs hurt, then woke up the next morning and did it all over again. And God forbid you came home with something broken. Your father wasn't ordering you another one. He was heading to the basement to see if he could fix it. We glued things. Taped things. Sewed things. Replaced missing parts with whatever we could find in the junk drawer. We didn't throw something away just because it stopped working. And if you outgrew it, there was a good chance your younger brother or sister was getting it next. I sometimes wonder if having fewer things made those things mean more to us. Because I can barely remember what I bought last month. But I can still remember the feeling of getting something I desperately wanted when I was ten years old. Right down to the smell of opening the box.