Page 6 of Suck My Puck

I used to hold my positions well and not have to do split saves or dramatic dives to keep the puck out of the net. I used to be the goalie who held onto the puck every time it hit me.

Not anymore though.

Why the fuck can’t I get it together?

The anger inside of me bubbles up, turning to rage. Before I can stop myself, I slam my stick against the barrier. It cracks in half, falling onto the ice.

My teammates on the bench jolt back. From the corner of my eye, I can see them all staring at me in shock.

I’ve never, ever lashed out like this.

I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix what’s wrong with me. I don’t know how to be better.

A wave of insecurity shoots through me.

Maybe this is it. Maybe I already hit my peak last season. Maybe I’m not good anymore.

A sick, uneasy feeling gnaws at my gut.

Someone pats my shoulder. I look up and see Del sitting next to me, frowning at me like he’s concerned.

“It’s just an off night. We all have them,” he says.

I don’t say anything. I know he’s just trying to be a good teammate, but his words mean nothing.

Because I know whatever I’m going through is deeper than that. And I need to figure out how to fix it before I lose everything.

“How about another pitcher of beer?” Xander asks.

He glances at me across our usual table at Spanky’s, the dive bar just outside of downtown Denver that we almost always hang out at after home games.

“You know I hate beer,” I say, glancing down at my glass of Scotch.

“You wanna do some shots then?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I’m not in the mood for shots.”

Xander nods like he understands, then hops up from our table and heads to the bar.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dude,” Theo says. “Dallas has been on fire in the preseason. We knew they were going to kick our ass.”

“It’s just one loss. We’ve got a whole season to dominate,” Del says.

I cringe at my teammates’ words. I know they’re tryingto make me feel better, but I hate it. I hate that I’m the reason we lost our first game of the season.

I drain the rest of the Scotch in my glass and look at them. “Look, I appreciate you guys trying to make me feel better, but it’s not what I need to hear right now.”

“What do you need?” Del asks.

I shoot out a breath and lean back in my chair. “I wish I knew.”

“I know what you need,” Xander says as he sits down, a fresh pitcher of beer in hand.

I flick at my empty glass. “What’s that?”

“To get laid.”

Theo laughs. Del frowns at him. I roll my eyes.

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