They’ll be my first real games for this team, in front of a crowd and a referee, and in front of real opposition.
Coach’s gaze sweeps across the team before landing briefly on me. “Shaw will dress.” He means I’ll probably be playing. I nod slightly inside the helmet, trying to look calm.
After practice I skate a few extra laps while the others head off toward the locker room.
Tomorrow night I’ll step onto this ice as part of the team. This is the part I’ve been dreaming about all week.
It’ll be under a fictional name in front of a crowd that has no idea who I really am. Somehow that feels freeing as well as scary.
ZANE
The arena lights blaze down onto the ice. Even though it’s a league match, the arena is only half full. Guess word about our losing streak has gotten around. Still, the fans that have shown up try to make up for it - they shout over each other from the stands with the familiar chant.
“Let’s go, Giants!”
We’re playing the Silver Lake Eagles.
They’re fast and disciplined in that irritating way teams get when they’ve already figured out how to win.
Which we absolutely haven’t.
The worst part about a losing streak isn’t the losses themselves. It’s what they do to your head. You start expecting things to go wrong. You almost start expecting to lose.
I can feel that tension in our bench during the first period. Everyone skating half a step too cautiously, like we’re waiting for the mistake.
Then our line jumps over the boards.
Russo at center.
Shaw on the left.
Me on the right.
Russo wins the faceoff clean and carries it into the neutral zone, scanning ahead like he always does.
He slides the puck left.
Shaw collects it smoothly along the boards.
One defender closes in immediately.
Shaw doesn’t rush.
That’s the thing about him.
He never rushes.
Like he did in practice, he waits just long enough to pull the defender slightly out of position before slipping the puck back toward the middle.
Russo taps it forward.
I’m already moving.
The puck arrives at my stick at exactly the right moment, perfectly timed so I don’t even have to adjust my stride.
I snap it toward the net.
It slips past the goalie before he can drop.
