I seered as I enter the locker room. I have never seen such a cluster fuck on the ice. Being down four goals is a fucking nightmare. The only thing that gives me hope is that some of the greatest comebacks happen when the team’s back is against the wall. All they need is a great speech and some fucking passion. Time for ourMiraclemoment.
“What happened out there cannot andwill nothappen again. Do you understand me?” It’s my first time yelling at them, and it feels cathartic. I have so much bottled-up energy watching from the sidelines. This is why coaches break things (RIP my clipboard), we have no bodies to crush or pucks to slap.
“Dylan, Tristan, we practiced that drill with Adam and Jake hundreds of times. If I see you cower away from the UCONNdefensemen one more time I will make sure your asses are benched next season. Adam, Jake. Drawing penalties and starting fights every thirty seconds isn’t helping. Three out of UCONNs four goals were during a power play. You’re captains for fucksake.Act like it.”
“We can still win this game, but only if you want it bad enough. Only if youchooseto fight for it. Because as much as I want this team to win, you have to want it twice as much. I want to remind you boys that you have beaten UCONN before. You’re the ones who put an end to their win streak during the regular season.” I take a pause, letting my words sink in. “They probably view that loss as a fluke. That we got lucky. But it wasn’t luck that beat them. It was skill. Skill and patience and determination. We stayed locked in, and persistent. We didn’t cave in to their cheap hits or let the fact that they scored some goals rattle us. We went out there and made sure they never underestimated us again. And now they have stepped their game up. But wecanbeat them again. Wearebetter. You just have to want it bad enough.”
I leave them alone for the rest of the break, hoping my speech lit a fire under them. Like them, I need to get my head on straight and stay focused. I’m as fired up as they are, but I have to keep my eyes on the bigger game, and help my players adjust accordingly. Good players make good teams. Good teams make history with great leadership.
The second period starts, and it feels like we’re a brand-new team. The players skate onto the ice like soldiers charging and primed to win a war. Gone were the miscommunications or the half-assessed attempts at carrying out plays. Dylan starts off strong with a big hit on UCONN’s captain. He sends the puck toward the boards, and I watch as it ricochets. Adam is right there to pick it up and slide it through the goalie’s legs. 1-4. Not even a minute later, Jake intercepts a pass and skates like a mad man toward our goal. Try as they might, none of UCONN’s players can catch up to Jake as he sends the puckinto the top right corner of the net. Our entire bench goes crazy as they celebrate his breakaway goal. My players keep the same intensity throughout the period, and we end the second down one goal.
The hunger and desperation to keep our season going is palpable as I enter the locker room. “Everything you just did out there, I need to see it again. The next twenty minutes may be the hardest twenty minutes you’ve ever played in your life. UCONN is desperate now. They’re going to try some of their dirtiest tricks, going to do everything they can to get in your heads. Don’t let them. We know their game. We know how they play. And we know how to beat them. Keep your heads on straight and we’ll win. It’s as simple as that.”
The third period starts off with UCONN’s captain trying to rile up Jake. My heart races as I watch a smirk come over Jake’s face, the same look he gets when he’s about to drop his gloves.
“Control yourself, Keeley!” I shout across the ice and watch as Jake clears his head and gets in position. He wins the face off and passes the puck over to Dylan who skates down center ice before he takes a nasty hit that sends him flying. The arena goes quiet as Dylan lays there limp, and his teammates go to check on him. He manages to get himself back up on his feet but he has a look on his face that I’m too familiar with. “Dylan, head back and see the trainers now.”
“C’mon Coach, don’t take me out now! I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, you're concussed. And you’re not going to win this fight with me either. I won’t risk your health for a game. Trainer’s room. Now.” When I’m done with Dylan I turn my attention to the bench.
They look predatory, hungry for payback. “Everyone listen to me. That was a dirty hit, but we can’t let our tempers get the best of us. You want to get even for Dylan? Then you win this game. You take all that anger and you put it toward getting pucks deep and into the net.” I look each player in the eye to make sure they understand me. “I promise you no fight will feel as good aswinning this game. Don’t blow it now when we’re this close to beating them.”
I get confirmation that my words resonated when I watch Jake and Tristan shake off the verbal harassment being targeted at them. Jake’s jaw twitches with every beratement, but he never falters. He takes a shot that’s too high and the puck bounces off the glass. The UCONN defensemen are on it immediately pressing the puck against the boards to keep it away from Jake. He’s not going down without a fight. It takes a minute for Jake to dig the puck out and pass it to Tristan who delivers one of the most beautiful slap shots I’d ever seen. Tie game.
A glance at UCONN’s bench tells me their coach has lost his shit. He calls for a timeout.
“Alright everyone huddle up. I don’t want this game to go into overtime. We have two minutes left, more than enough time for one more goal. Adam, I’m sending you out with Jake and Tristan. Run the same drill we’ve been working on for the past couple of weeks. Jake to Tristian, Tristan to Adam, and then Adam to Jake for the kill?—”
“I think Tristan should take the shot,” Jake says.
That catches me off guard. “Are you sure?”
“He’s on fire tonight. UCONN is going to expect either me or Adam to take the shot. Not some freshman. They won’t be expecting him.”
“Tristan, that sound good to you?”
He nods. “Let’s fucking win this boys. We won’t let you down Coach Hayes.”
Coach Hayes.That’s who I am now. My heart squeezes in realization.
I’m doing my best not to cover my eyes as the puck hits the ice. Adam wins the face off but UCONN’s defense is relentless. Adam, Jake, and Tristan, pass the puck back and forth several times looking for an opening they can’t seem to get. With thirty seconds left in the period, Jake gets hold of the puck and skates up to the goal like he’s going for it. All the UCONN playersfocus their attention on him, leaving everyone else unguarded. In a Hail Mary attempt, Jake sends the puck loose toward Tristan. The goalie’s field of vision is blocked by all the chaos down in front that he doesn’t notice the puck sailing past him until the buzzer goes off. The entire arena comes unglued, and a sea of gloves and helmets go flying. We fucking did it. Holy shit.
While everyone shuffles on the ice to celebrate, I scan the arena for the friends and family booth. I see Violet jumping up and down, alongside our loved ones. That moment would replay in my head forever.
Leaving the warmth of my bed this morning is particularly difficult given my late night celebration with Violet. I could still hear her delicious little moans as licked her clean and showed her all the ways I was grateful to her for being at my side. There was one more person I need to express my gratitude to, though in a much different way of course.
I’m standing on Coach’s doorstep, rehearsing what I’m going to say, when the door flies open to reveal Coach Jameson, standing up on a very unbroken leg.
“Mason? What the hell are you doing here this early?”
“I came to check up on you. See how your broken leg is doing.” I give him a pointed look.
“Come in.”
He shoves me inside and we sit down in the kitchen. From the corner of my eye, I catch Penny glaring at me for a moment before returning to her breakfast.
“What is going on Coach?”
