Page 103 of Switching Skates
The announcer shouts into the mic, “Here are your Northern Minnesota University Mammoths!”
Our team skates out, and my heart jumps into my throat. I have no idea how I’m going to get through this game without passing out. I want us to win so badly that I can’t think straight.
After the first few warm-up drills, the other goalie takes the net, and Mason takes the opportunity to skate over to us, leaning against the glass.
He winks at me, and I feel a blush spread rapidly across my cheeks. No matter how long we’re together, every glance from him makes my knees feel like they’re going to give out.
“Go, Mason!” his mom shouts, pumping her fist into the air.
He lifts his glove to the glass, and she does the same with her fist, bumping each other.
He glances back at me as he starts to skate off, and I mouth the words,I love you.
Holding my stare, he lifts his mask off of his face and shouts as loudly as he can, “I love you!”
My skin erupts in goose bumps as a giggle bubbles out of me. “I love you too!” I shout back, not caring who is going to hear or see me.
He skates back to his net, and they finish warming up before heading off the ice for the Zamboni to ready it for the game.
Twenty minutes later, I’m on the edge of my seat, and the puck is being dropped at center ice.
We take control right away, and Chet skates off to the other end, breaking into the zone with Ryan and Zach right behind him.
Our two defenders breach the blue line, helping to pass the puck around as they search for an opening to make a move. Chet skates through the slot, pulling two defensemen his way, and Ryan sees an opportunity.
Zach draws his defender away with the puck as Ryan sinks into the opening created.
Zach dishes the puck his way in one clean swoop. Ryan slaps the puck with his stick and sends it flying so fast that my eyes can’t even track it until I just notice the swish at the back of the net.
“Yes!!” I jump up, screaming, smacking my hand against the glass as the arena explodes with cheers.
Mason slaps his stick on the ground in celebration as our guys skate toward our bench, Ryan leading the way with Zach right behind him and the other three following. They bump gloves with the guys on the bench before switching out for a different line and defensive pair.
They set back up at center ice, and we’re off again.
But this time, no one scores on the first possession, or the next, or at all during the next fifty minutes of game play.
But as we enter the final ten minutes, the atmosphere shifts around us, tense and rigid.
Their opponents—the Titans—are getting really chippy, taking cheap shots on our guys and even starting to poke and prod at Mason.
One guy has already found out what happens when they touch him, but apparently, they haven’t learned their lesson about not touching our goalie.
The Titans gain possession and fly down the ice toward Mase. A few passes later, and there’s a pileup in front of the goal, Mason at the bottom.
Time passes uncomfortably as everyone starts screaming at the ref for not stopping play.
The ref blows his whistle, and everyone settles down for less than a second before we see the ref’s hand point at the net, signaling a goal for the Titans.
Their team goes crazy, cheering and talking at our guys—shit, I’m sure—as they skate away toward their bench to celebrate.
The crowd islivid.
Chants break out as everyone yells, “Ref, you suck! Ref, you suck! Ref, you suck!”
Mason’s slow to get up, but he glances over at me and nods, assuring me he’s okay.
Thank God.
