It didn’t hurt that the music was bumpin too. Whoever was in charge of that needed a raise.
I joined my teammates skating around our half of the ice for the warmup, feelin my edges, and loosening my muscles up, then went to the corner to start up the puck shooting drill to warm our goalieup.
“How ya feelin, bud?” Duke asked, reaching out for a fistbump.
“I’m uh, feelin it,” I toldhim.
He threw his arms wide. “Embrace it buddy. They’re cheerin for you,” he said, addressing the home crowd.
When it was our turn to run the drill, he skated first with the puck, and I rounded up behind him. He dropped the puck back behind him on a fake shot, I scooped it up, shot, and sweeeetgoal.
Alright, alright, I could do this. It’s all muscle memory, I told myself as I skated back to the corner to wait for my next turn.
And, the music really was good. I loosened up and showed off some of my sick dance moves to some little girls wearin Crew jerseys in the corner, and their belly laughs made me feel even better.
After the fun warmup and getting all amped up, the first period became a bit of a letdown because I hadn’t even touched theice.
As I sat at the edge of the bench, I became more and more envious of the guys who were actually getting to play.
I mean, I felt happy to be in the big show even if I was just a bench warmer… but being so close to the game, and not being able to feel part of it felt like a sick joke. I’d never been a benchwarmer before, and I was finding I did not have a good attitude about it.
We were up 3 to 1 against Pittsburgh, which was awesome, but it kinda sucked at the same time because each time a line came back to celebrate a goal, I had to celebrate and swallow my bitter jealousy.
It wasn’t until there were three minutes left in the period that I finally felt a tap on the back of my helmet.
I turned to see Coach, looking at me and pointing to the ice. He yelled something at me, but I wasn’t even sure what because I clumsily hopped over the boards as soon as I could before he could change his mind about putting me in.
As soon as my skates hit the ice, I was chopping away to try to catch up with the play.
One of our defensemen passed the puck up to Duke, and he was skating full speed up ice toward Pittsburgh’s net.
I pushed my cold muscles as hard as I could to trail behind Duke for a possible rebound.
And thank God I did.
Duke’s shot deflected off the goalie’s pads, and I was almost right behind him to try again. Muscle memory took over as I stretched to reach the puck. I went down on a knee and slapped a one-timer toward their goalie.
The next thing I knew, the goal light was shining bright red.
I stood there in shock, remembering there was a huge-ass crowd watching me that was definitely making itself known.
A second later I was pounded into the boards in celebration by my guys on the ice.
“First shift out the gate, Vinnnnn-ayyy!” one of the guys yelled in my ear.
As we dispersed and started skating back toward our team box, the Detroit celebration song queued up and I saw my dance moves from earlier light up on the Jumbotron. I swear I could hear the laughter from the happy crowd, and that was all good with me. I was cheesin’ hard because I did what I’d always wanted to: I made a statement in my first big game.
I grabbed my jersey and shook it, playing it up for the fans, and then pointed my stick directly at suite box 110 where I knew Ellie would besitting.
I couldn’t see her, but I hoped she knew that was for her.
36. Ellie
The girls in the box next to me were screaming and jumping up and down as Duke skated fast toward the net, and soon I was too… because TJ was behindhim…
I held my breath as the puck bounced to him, and in a split-second he fired it.
And hescored.
