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Lately, he’s been nicer. I see him smiling more. He seems less angry.
He recently found out that he has a five-year-old boy and he got back together with the mother, which I think is having a lot to do with it. It’s taken the edge off him.
Adrenaline starts ripping through me as the referee skates over with the puck. Sebastian is taking the face-off, because he’s the best. I’m playing left wing, Edvard Svensson—the Nordic Wonder—is right wing, Harris is left defensemen behind me, our team enforcer, Tucker McKinstry is in his usual spot in the penalty box, and our goalie Nolan Barlowe is ready in front of the net.
Everybody holds still as the referee lifts the puck over the red circle.
This is my favorite part. The second or two of frozen tension before the puck hits the ice and everything explodes into action.
It always feels like a grenade dropping down.
Calm, calm, and then BOOM.
The puck drops and Sebastian battles the other center for it. It slips back to the right and Svensson scoops it up.
He does a good job of killing time with the puck. He wastes about seven seconds before the other team gets it. Nine seconds left until McKinstry is back on and we’re no longer outnumbered.
The Icebreakers bring it back into our zone and eventually shoot on the net. Nolan makes a wicked save and the whistle blows.
“Did you guys miss me?” Tucker asks in that deep growly voice as he skates over, his penalty finished.
“Yeah,” Sebastian says with a grin. “We have thirty-seven seconds left. Think you can avoid going back in there?”
“No promises,” Tucker grumbles as he rolls his giant shoulders while glaring at the biggest guy on the other team.
Sebastian quickly fills him in on the play as we get into position for another face-off.
My heart is racing. The pressure is on me.
I had a killer slap shot all my life. Almost every time I let it loose, it went in, the buzzer rang, the crowd cheered, I got swarmed by my teammates.
But here, amongst the best players in the world, aimed at the best goalies ever to exist, they’re not going in.
The goalies are too fast. The game moves too quickly. I don’t have that extra split second to line up my shot. I can’t aim as well. I can’t pull back and get full power.
It’s been frustrating.
The puck drops and Sebastian passes it back to Harris. Tucker smashes some poor fucker into the boards as Harris passes it back to Sebastian.
We’re all off, racing to the other net as our opponents try to get into a defensive position.
The goalie on the Icebreakers is damn good and he looks ready.
But he’s got the best player in the league coming at him. Sebastian gets around the guy in front of him and shoots a beauty at the net.
The goalie shifts at the last second and the puck smacks off his stick. It bounces away—still live—and Svensson manages to grab it.
I get into position as we get ready to execute Coach’s plan.
Fourteen seconds.
Svensson passes it to Harris, who fakes a shot on the net. He’s so good, he gets everyone to react, then he quickly passes me the puck.
I pull back, ready to unleash a game-winning slap shot.
Come on, man.
With a grunt, I let it rip as hard as I can. The puck flies off my stick and heads right for the open corner.
