Every hockey player lived for the thrill of game days, and I was no different. Since I was old enough to understand the rules and how to get the crowd cheering, there’d always been a familiar thrum in my chest when I stepped out onto the ice. A sense of familiarity and adrenaline-the combination of which got me pumped up and raring to go.
Once the whistle sounded, nothing else mattered except finding a way to get the puck in the other team’s net.
Though Tampa’s defense certainly weren’t letting that happen easily.
We got this, Coach said in the locker room after the first period ended without a single goal. We’re playing fast and getting our shots off, so keep it up. Find ways to get through their defense, because while they’re strong, we’re stronger.
Hell yeah, we are !
Coach chuckled proudly at Orlov’s outburst. I expect all of you to have that kind of determination going back out there, because we need it. It’s not enough to avoid mistakes. I need each one of you to give it your all. To step up and leave everything you have out on the ice. And if you do that, I have no doubt we’ll walk away with a win.
Knights on three ! Simmons shouted, rousing the team as we headed back out.
One, two, three, Knights !
Returning to the game, I couldn’t get Coach’s words out of my head. They were cemented there, playing on repeat each time I jumped over the boards to join the action. And while that didn’t magically make things easier, it did help my focus. I could sense the moves the defensemen would make before they made them, I was keyed in to where my teammates were on the ice and where I needed to be, and I let the noise of the crowd sink into the background, fixated solely on one thing.
Scoring.
And I thought I had the perfect opportunity after dekeing out a Tampa skater and circling the back of the net. But the goalie had me beat. If I would’ve let the shot off, I knew he would’ve buried it, so instead of killing the play in search of my own glory, I quickly passed the puck to Brookes. Ready and waiting on the other side of the net, his one-timer sailed cleanly into the back of the net before the Tampa goalie could even slide over and try to stop it.
With the lamp lit up, the arena erupted-cheers from the fans and music from the DJ booth-as I joined the guys in celebration. But only for a moment.
Because we all knew one goal was nothing in hockey, especially in a hard-fought game.
As the minutes of play time ticked down, it was clear to both sides that this would indeed be a nail biter. Back and forth we went, moving the puck up and down the ice. Shoving Tampa up against the boards to keep the momentum on our side as much as possible.
But something inside me still burned. A familiar feeling that came around once and a while that told me this was my game. My show.
And my time came when there were only two minutes left in the game.
Brookes, Schmidt, and I were moving the puck around Tampa’s end, trying to find an opening as the goalie’s eyes followed our every move while also trying to run down the clock. But after so many passes, I just felt it.
That urge to shoot.
So, when the puck landed back on my stick, I lunged forward and aimed a missile straight for the top right corner of the net.
Only to see it sneak passed the goalie’s blocker and land beautifully in the net.
Throwing my hands up in celebration as my teammates on the ice huddled around me, I felt a pressure lift off my chest, knowing this game was ours. And as I took my seat on the bench, chugging water as our third line took care of the rest of the clock, exhilaration coursed through my veins.
Especially when the final whistle blew and I saw my face on the jumbotron, having been named the top player of the game, with Brookes and Nyberg number two and three.
That’s what I call a game, boys ! Simmons roared as we all crowded into the locker room, prompting another round of hoots and hollers from everyone.
It was like this after every win, no matter if it was a home or away game, because by tomorrow, our minds needed to be zeroed in on the next objective. The next game. There was no time to revel in the success.
But boy did I want to.
Damn, man, you were on fire tonight, Nyberg said clapping my shoulder after shedding his gloves and head gear.
So were you, dude. Nice shutout.
Thanks. His grin turned knowing as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. But admit it, you were trying to show off for your girl in the stands, weren’t you ?
I rolled my eyes, because honestly, while I’d known she was in attendance, my performance hadn’t been for her benefit. It’d been for me.
My agent had called earlier this morning to clue me in to the fact that the higher ups were still throwing my name around for a possible trade. So, tonight I’d given it my all. To prove to myself, and to the front office, that I belonged here. That I was a Knight.
Did I hear that right ? Brookes joked, cutting in and nudging my other side. Wellsley’s got a good luck charm in the stands ?
Well thank fuck for that, another teammate said with a chuckle. You were a rocket tonight, man.
He certainly was, Coach said, coming up behind me. I turned and grinned at him. And no matter the reason, you’ve scored yourself a date with the reporters tonight, son. Hurry and change, because they’re expecting you in less than five. His gaze flickered to Nyberg. You too. You’ll be up after him.
Yes, Coach.
See you both in there.
As he retreated, I began shedding the rest of my gear, but because I knew I wouldn’t have time to shower, instead of changing back into my suit, I threw on a spare t-shirt and pair of sweatpants I had in my locker.
Well, as much as I’d love to sit here and listen to you all rag on me for inviting a friend-
A girl friend, Brookes emphasized.
A friend, I repeated, to the game, I’m needed elsewhere.
Kill it out there Wellsley, someone shouted to my back as I headed for the door, and I pumped my fist in the air three times, excitement still running through me.