Page 86 of Skating the Blue Line
It’s as if we all took a hit of something during warm up and all we want to do is hit the ice and show the other team what we are made of.
Music is blaring, people are getting in the zone. Tonight is one of those nights that feels like it’s going to be talked about by sports fans for years to come.
But because superstitions are very much real, I’ll keep that thought process to myself.
“You ready for tonight?” Christian comes over to me in full gear ready to go. He looks like an absolute beast with his skates on.
“Yup. Are you?” I ask, throwing on my game jersey.
“Feel like slamming a body against the boards tonight,” he says, letting out a grunt in the process.
Christian Rodrigues is what we like to call in the hockey world an enforcer. The dude is a goon on the ice and if anyone messes with our team, he’s there to put them in place.
If he’s feeling like fighting already, I know it’s going to be a good game.
“Just don’t do anything dirty.” I say, give the bastard a shove.
“Do I ever?” he says, giving me a smirk.
I roll my eyes at him. He very much does, especially when he’s had a bad day. I just have to hope that today is not one of those days.
After a talk from Coach and some motivational stuff from me, we make our way to the tunnel to get this game started.
Even before hitting the ice, we can feel the energy of the fans vibrate through the arena.
It’s as if we are projecting our energy to the fans without even knowing it.
“Alright boys, lets go kick some shark ass and get one step closer to the end game.” I yell out to the men behind me and pat our goalie who’s in front of me, in the back.
Grunts sound around me and the louder they get the more I feel like this game is going to be one for the books.
The doors open and the team makes its entrance.
Music blares from the speakers. Fans are chanting out our names, and skating to center ice feels fucking amazing.
Before getting into position, I look over to the seats right next to our bench and spot a beauty with curls at the top of her head and my name on her back.
I would never admit this to her but ever since she started coming to every one of my home games, I play ten times better. She’s my good luck charm and as long as she’s in the stands cheering us on, this team will go places. I can feel it.
I throw a smile in her direction and she gives me one back right before I get into position and wait for the puck to drop.
The second that the whistle sounds out and the puck hits the ice, I’m in the zone. And I stay in the zone until the Knights win the game four to one. One game closer to getting a chance to play for the cup.
Hopefully in a few months time I will have two things to celebrate.
My daughter and the Knights winning the Stanley Cup.
* * *
The second that I get home, I drop my bag and I start untying my tie. I should really start going without them, I hate the stupid things. But they are a part of the outfits I get every week from the Archwell stylist, so according to my contract I have to wear them.
Dropping the offensive material on the table by the door, I walk deeper into the apartment, looking for Chloe.
She left the after-game celebration early. She said that she felt tired and wanted to put her feet up. I offered to come home with her but she kept telling me to stay. After the tenth time, I finally listened to her and called her a car.
My eyes stayed glued to the app, watching her car move all the until she was back home. That was over an hour ago, so she might be sleeping already.
I’m about to go to bed myself, when I hear a snuffling sound coming from Chloe’s room.
