Page 171 of Goaltender Interference

Jesse cheered becausefuckyes. That sounded like fun.

Feeling loose and happy, he skated back to his net, roughing up the ice in his crease, then clearing it away with his blocker. He tested it with a few side-to-side shuffles on his pads as they set up the faceoff, satisfied it was perfect.

Before the puck even dropped, Jesse was back to being all business.

But as the minutes in the period ticked down, Buffalo wasn’t looking any better. They’d only gotten a few shots on goal and Jesse wasn’t surprised when their coach pulled their goalie with three minutes left in the game.

Buffalo weredesperateto have an extra skater on the ice, finally getting the spark of life they’d been missing all game.

They were clogging up Boston’s defensive zone, preventing anyone from Boston getting possession. From the blue line, Crawford cleared the puck, zinging it around the boards and behind Jesse’s net.

There was a scramble in the corner, the puck shooting out toward the goal.

A quick sweep of the players on the ice showed Jesse his teammates were all occupied or too far away to do anything, so he carefully skated a few feet out, capturing the puck and settling it, fully intending to shoot it to Pennington who might be able to get a breakaway.

But Jesse had a clear view of the empty net and inspiration struck.

For a split second he debated if he should do it or not before he dropped to one knee and snapped the puck toward the other end of the ice.

He’d practiced his two-hundred-foot shot plenty of times and the lower angle had given him some power and lift. The puck sailed across the ice over the guys’ heads, crossing Buffalo’s blue line before landing and sliding toward their net. Jesse held his breath, not sure if the puck had enough steam to go in, or if his aim had been good enough, but it glided smoothly toward the net, crossing the goal line and bouncing off the twine in back then remaining inside the goal.

A Buffalo player who had chased the puck up the ice, too slow to stop it, batted it out of the net in frustration while the sound of the goal horn was still ringing through the air.

The crowd rose to their feet, screaming their appreciation and pounding on the glass. Elated, Jesse leaped in the air and flung his arms up, tossing his blocker away as he raced toward the guys who were coming straight for him to celebrate.

They collided on open ice and Crawford swept him up in a hug, shouting and thumping him on the shoulder. “You crazy bastard. I can’t fucking believe you did that, Webby!”

The other guys piled on too, screaming his name and various obscenities.

Connor, who had come over the boards, slammed into him, rasping, ‘Fuck I love you, you little chaos demon,” with his mouth pressed right up against the cage of Jesse’s mask.

Jesse couldn’t stop grinning as he skated to the bench to get his fist bumps.

“I catch you doing that in a game we’re losing, and your ass is toast,” Coach Hoyt shouted when Jesse flew by. He didn’t look mad though, his eyes twinkling a little as Jesse held out his fist for him to tap.

Kady looked out of his mind, pumping his fist in the air and tugging Jesse in, nearly dragging him over the boards as he yelled, “You crazy!”

There were only a handful of seconds left in the game and though they all went through the motions as the clock ticked down, the game ended with Jesse’s first NHL goal, netting them a 5-1 win.

Fuckyes.

It took forever for Connor to get through media that night.

Of course reporters wanted to interview Jesse. Between his dancing and his goal, they were frenzied to get some sound bitesfrom him. But they wanted them from Connor too, asking how he felt about their goaltender taking risks like that.

“I trust him,” Connor said. His expression was probably too soft and fond for TV but he couldn’t stop smiling. Not when he thought about Jesse. “We were up three goals with less than three minutes left. He saw he had the shot and took it. It was a calculated risk and it paid off.”

“What did you think when you saw him drop to one knee and shoot?”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Connor admitted with a laugh. “It was wild. I’ve watched replays of goalie goals of course, but I’ve never seen one live. It was incredible though. Such a great moment to be a part of.”

“And what about his dancing?”

“You know what?” Connor said with a shrug. “That’s our Webby. He’s fun and energetic and he really knows how to get the crowd and the team fired up. He knows when to be serious, when to focus, but I think it’s great he knows how to let loose too. I think I’ve learned a lot from him so far this season, actually.”

Several hours later, when they were at O’Neill’s celebrating, Liam shook his head as he pulled Connor’s pint. “Caught the game on the TV earlier. That’s quite the goalie you have there.”

Connor grinned, happy and relaxed from the win. “Don’t I know it?” He held up his pint glass in a toast and Liam nodded his head to acknowledge it.

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