Off to the Regionals... or not.
Another day, of senior year winter hockey, another game of winter hockey, strapping on the goalie pads, and being the quiet, shy, and calm person I've been known to be. Yet, it meant to be the firey, agressive, overall asshole that I can be sometimes. Though, this time, it meant more. Like, Connecticut state championship , more. and Union College, more. However, my application for UCLA was the big prize. "woah, woah, off topic." As I ran through my pre-game playlist on my iPhone, my Reebok goalie equipment rolling around in the back of this god-forsaken-yet-oh-so-awesome red Mini Cooper Paceman. I allowed myself free-thinking time while in the car. "What if we lose? SHUT UP, HARRISON. what if i'm not accepted to UCLA? SHUT UP HARRISON. what if.." "NO" The whole point of free-think time-space on big-huge game days was to alleviate pressure, relax, think of the other things in life that made me happy, like Bionicle, which was cancelled years ago, or the new season of MLP? Yet it always went sour, south.
"Welp, here already. At least it's home ice." I said aloud. The gargantuan arena was my home for hockey since 7th grade. My last game here better be damn good. Surprise.I'm the last one there. Never take team bus, deal with consequences. I hurried to the locker room to change into gear.
After the agony of taking 15 minutes to change and go over gameplan with "The Crew", being TJ and Will on defense, Jack, Andy, and Charlie for the offensive guys, we usually started big games due to us getting pretty agressive. Then we headed onto the ice for warmup. AKA, skate laps for no reason other than to stretch your legs. Which are already stretched, thank you very much. As a goalie, we have to be there to motivate the team, yet be quiet, to be reliable, yet rely on others. Game Time. I'm starting. Players in position. Reebok Premier XLT leg pads, catch glove and blocker. Check. Reebok PXLT stick. Check. Ref points to me, I nod back. He does the same on the other side, same reaction. Crowd cheering intensely for both sides, puck drops, game begins. 40 minutes of nothing, no penalty calls, no goals, very few shots, defensive play versus defensive play. I'm nervous. We all are. None of us want to lose to our crosstown rivals. NOBODY. 3rd begins. Same referee pointing. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Same routine for the first 10-12 minutes. 13:57 in, we get a tiebreaker. The bad kind. Shorthanded slapshot from blueline. Clean beat, high glove side. Nothing of note later except a big brawl, in which, **** got real. Real, real. Final minute, I'm scrambling to the bench for that extra skater. We have the man advantage. Full Crew on ice. Shot after shot, after shot. Final buzzer sounds though, just as rubber hits iron. Game Over. Greenwich 1 - Brunswick 0.
