Page 47 of Riding Pine
After skating back to the bench, our starting lineup is on the ice, and the game begins. It’s a hard-hitting game, and checks are flying immediately, rattling boards and glass in the first three minutes.
We battle hard, and just before the first period ends, Youngblood scores our first goal with a lucky bounce off his ass, off the goalie, and into the net. But a goal is a goal, and it’s what we needed to come alive in our home barn.
The second period is fast. We’re mostly penalty free, and I’ve slammed a few rookies hard into the corners. They need to learn to watch their surroundings better. I might be slow, but I still have the strength to squash them. We’re still only up 1-0 after two periods, but we head to the locker room on a high.
After sitting in my stall, I grab a few orange slices from the table and a cold Gatorade. The guys do their own thing for the intermission rest, and I pop in my earbuds and reach for my phone.
James said he’d video Ben’s performance tonight as a Facebook Live, and I really don’t want to miss it. Sometimes I like to sit with music between periods, so it’s not like I’m drawing attention or anything. Leaning back, I angle the phone so Burnsy or anyone walking by can’t see and quickly scroll to find James’ profile and the video.
I’ve missed the beginning, but I’ve watched him practice enough this past week to know it all by heart. Ben said he had creative freedom to do what he wanted, but to keep it family friendly and fun. I felt he did that, but he had a point when he said it’s the adults paying for tickets, so he should entice them as well.
A platform was placed on the ice with a dance pole. Which, yes, is a stripper pole, but as Ben explained to me, it’s also a tool for fitness, like weights or a treadmill. He also showed how strong he actually is, and that’s the part he’s about to do now.
The premise is simple. He uses his tail to smack balls into a play-sized net. It’s the execution that’s hard.
I watch the video and listen to the crowd clap to the music as one of the team helpers prepares to toss the balls for him. First, he hits three balls while standing, and the MC teases him that surely he can do better than that. Ben plays to the crowd, a cute but irritated beaver, and goes into a handstand. The helper tosses three more balls that he hits with his tail while upside down and moving his hips.
James cheers over the video and speaks to the people beside him about how hard that must be. It is. The amount of practice he put in rivals any athlete’s preparation.
Then the music shifts to something daredevil, and the MC reads from the script telling the crowd Slappy will now hit the balls whilemoving on the pole. Ben is a sexy man without having his strength on display with a pole or silks. Somehow, he turns the dial up on that even while wearing a beaver suit.
He makes a show to the crowd, and it makes me laugh how easily he entertains people. He pretends to shake out his nerves and fails to lift himself up on the bar. The crowd, of course, keeps cheering for him. The kids close to the glass are completely invested with their cries of,‘You can do it, Slappy!’
Ben nods like the determined beaver he is and grabs the pole, lifting himself up into the flag position, completely parallel to the floor. The helper throws the balls to him, which he knocks into the net by rippling his body to give the tail an extra smack to the balls. He does this three times before releasing a hand to give the crowds a thumbs up and pretending to fall.
I laugh softly and quickly check that nobody is paying me attention as I watch his finale. The helpers move all the balls and the net away, and the tempo of the music switches. I don’t know how Ben made this family-friendly. Maybe it’s because when he practiced for me, he barely wore anything, and I was constantly distracted.
He pulls himself up the pole and looks more like a gymnast, flipping his legs and turning himself upside down before wrapping his ankles at the top of the pole and lifting himself with his legs, encouraging the crowd to cheer.
He’s incredible. Once he dismounts, I quickly shove my earbuds and phone away. My racing heart isn’t just because he’s performed flawlessly and I’m proud of it. No, it’s racing because I want to shout out that he’s amazing, and let everyone know my boyfriend just brought the house down.
But I can’t.
“Yo, Cap, you coming?” Soupy stands beside me, and I glance around to see most of the team filing out for the third period. Shit. I really zoned out.
“Of course I am. I just needed to make sure you lot were paying attention.”
Grabbing my helmet, I push it on my head and shake out the daydreaming. I probably should’ve been more present in the locker room, but I wanted to watch Ben pull it off. I’ve played hundreds of first games of the season, but he’s never had a first game as a beaver mascot. It’s a big day for him.
The energy on the ice after intermission is electric. Slappy did his job with the crowd, and they’re on their feet as soon as we step on the ice. It’s a tight third period. Every single one of us is grinding hard to get the win, but an errant puck over the boards by Burnsy has us killing a penalty with less than two minutes left in the game.
“PK out! Let’s do this!” Coach Nix is cool, but he taps my shoulder. “Take the first change when Quin comes off.”
I nod to confirm and watch the play unfold. We’re pinned in our zone, and the guys are getting tired, but Soupy is a shot-blocking machine. When we finally gain puck control and move out of the zone, everyone makes a beeline to the bench, and we pile four fresh sets of legs on the ice.
It’s an odd-man break, and Youngblood is fading. His shift is almost a minute long, and he needs to change, but with a man down and the clock ticking, we’re just trying to keep the puck in their end or in the net until the buzzer sounds.
Sometimes an opportunity lasts a lifetime. Other times it happens in the blink of an eye with quick thinking. Youngbloodpivots, drawing the defenders out of position, and with a surge of speed, I skate to the open ice with my stick down. The puck hits the tape, and I don’t hesitate, winging it over the goalie’s shoulder.
The red light comes on, and the entire arena erupts. I look up at the clock as my teammates celebrate with me.
1.7 seconds left in the game. We did it.
“Holy shit, Piney. Thank god you went for it. I hoped that would work and not sail into their hands.” Youngblood smiles into my face and bangs his gloved hand on my helmet.
“Me too. I knew you wouldn’t keep the puck. I just hoped I guessed right on where you were sending it.”
After congratulations and cheers in the locker room, Coach is jumping with pure happiness that we won.
