The lights in the rink dimmed. The spotlight focused on the hallway to the locker room. The dramatic music blared through the speakers. It was game time. The teams lined up behind the benches in their respective hallways. Helga took a deep breath as she stood at the front of the line. Staring out at the rink, hearing the announcer thunder his voice through the speakers, she bit her lip. Tonight was the night to start things right. It was their time. It was her time.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, YOUR HILLWOOOOOD RRRRAVENS!"
The booming voice of the announcer echoed throughout the stadium, bringing the supporting crowd to their feet, applause and whistles flooding the rink. Helga wasted no time in delighting the cheering crowd to her team's presence on the ice. She hurriedly stepped her way out of the tunnel and onto the ice, skating a lap around their end of the rink before gliding over to her accustomed spot - in front of the goal.
She set her water bottle and stick on the top of the net before turning and facing away from the twine of the goal. She dropped to her knees and slid side-to-side, loosening herself and stretching for the imminent game. Her eyes shut momentarily, bringing silence to her head. Focus. She needed to focus tonight. The puck is mine. It is in my hand. All my work has brought me here. This is what I was meant to do. I will succeed. All of these thoughts flooded her head as she prepared the ice in front of the net.
At last, the lights grew brighter and the referee blew his whistle to start the period. Helga turned and grabbed her stick. And, taking a light smack at either crossbar to her side, leaned forward to watch the opening face-off.
The puck dropped. Sticks clacked against one another as the players battled for possession. Finally one of them did-and it would have to be the opposing team. The puck was quickly passed to another teammate, who had snuck his way along the sideboards and brought the puck into her end rather easily. Of course, Helga thought to herself. She glided out of her crease, attentively facing the shooter and waiting for him to take his shot. One of her team's trailing defensemen tried to lift his stick, but to no avail. The skater evaded him and closed in on the goal.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to do it then," she thought to herself.
She slid backwards slightly as he advanced towards the goal. Then, just as he was about to shoot, he quickly passed the puck right in front of her to the opposite side. An opposing teammate wound up for a quick slap shot and fired the puck directly at the net. Helga dove across the crease, snatching the blistering puck out of midair with her glove. She fell to the ice on her side and quickly balled her glove up in her midsection to smother it. The referee blew the whistle-the play was now stopped.
The crowd applauded the spectacular save, some patrons even standing to their feet. Her teammates banged their sticks on the benches as she stood up, opening her glove to the referee for him to take the puck for another face-off. She looked over at the opposing player who took the shot on her. He was on one knee, shaking his head in disbelief. He thought for sure that would have been in. On an average goalie, that might have worked. But Helga was anything but average.
On the next face off, her teammates gained possession of the puck. And quickly carried it out of their end and across the rink to the other net. Helga retreated deep into her crease and watched the play from her end of the ice. She watched a smart pass come to one of the defensemen at the blue line, who wound up for a hard slap shot, which promptly found its way to the back of the other net. The goal horn blasted through the loud speakers as the crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and applause. Her teammates skated down the bench, high-fiveing one another in celebration of their work. Helga tapped her stick on the ice before turning to grab quick drink from her water bottle. The next face off was now back at center ice. This is how the game will be tonight, she thought, end-to-end action.
And it was.
The teams battled it out, both getting decent scoring chances on either side, but nothing too threatening. At last, the buzzer signaled the end of the first period. The zamboni made its way out on to the ice as the teams cleared the rink. Helga and her teammates filed back down the hallway into the locker room for the intermission. She shuffled her way into the room, plopping down in her spot and taking off her goalie helmet. She sighed heavily, sweating some from the game. The rest of her team filed in, followed by the coach. He had a beer belly and a full head of black hair – most likely dyed- and slicked back. The creases on his forehead were sometimes distracting, and only got worse when he spoke at us. I say 'at' and not 'to' us, because you did what he said, or you didn't play. That's how he coached us. And we couldn't argue. You can't argue with seven state championships.
"You guys were playing real hard out there," the coach started, in a strangely calm way. He never gave the team compliments. Helga looked up at him with a raised brow in momentary disbelief.
"But not fucking hard enough!" he roared out. And there it was. Helga's eyes drifted down to the floor. She hated listening to him yell.
"You guys were giving them way too many chances out there. We could've gotten scored on! You have to pressure them. Don't let them get behind you out there. Okay? So pull your heads out of your asses and play some goddamn hockey!"
And with that, he left the room. The lines on his forehead seemed worse than ever now to Helga. She sighed quietly and sprayed her face with a quick shot of water from her bottle.
"Hey, Helga," one of her teammates, Tom, called her. She wiped her face with a towel, looking over at him.
"That was one hell of a save you made at the start," he nodded with a crooked grin on his face, "that shit was sick."
Helga gave a small chuckle at his words.
"Well what can I say; I'm just doin my job," she replied nonchalantly.
Her other teammates agreed with Tom. It was one hell of a save. The kind of save that would be on the highlight real on national TV…or at least on the school news tomorrow morning. Either way, there was no denying that Helga's preparation for this year had paid off. Now, it was a matter of keeping this pace for the rest of the season, and hopefully further.
The intermission ended and the second period began. The teams took the ice again and Helga positioned herself in front of the net. The teams butted heads and pressured each other in the neutral zone; or otherwise known as center ice. The scoring chances were few and far between, and even then none were very strong.
And then it happened.
The other team shot the puck into her team's end, and one of her defensemen came back to get it. He skated the puck to the blue line and shot it across the ice to a teammate on the other side. Just as he did so, an opposing player intercepted the pass and another snuck his stick into the defensemen's skates and deliberately tripped him. He instantly fell face-first into the ice. The referee was watching the puck and didn't see the trip occur. Angry fans in the audience stood up, jeering and booing at the referee as the other team gained possession and quickly skated into the zone-directly towards Helga.
The defensemen could not get up fast enough and now there was no defensive coverage on the two guys skating towards her. They both closed in - one on either side of her. A classic 2 on 0 rush, as they say. Helga followed the puck, keeping herself slotted between the two players as they closed in. The skater with the puck wound up for a slap shot. Helga braced herself to take the shot. Then, at the last second, he pulled up and passed the puck to his teammate, who now had a wide open net to shoot at. Helga quickly dove across the crease again, stacking her legs one on top of the other, and holding her glove as open as possible.
THUD.
The puck struck her leg pads and bounced back toward the center of the ice-where yet another opposing player closed in. He flew to the open puck and proceeded to shoot. Helga was way out of position here. She instantly lifted her legs up over her head, swinging them in mid-air from one side of her body to the other.
THUD.
The puck struck her leg pad again, this time bouncing right in front of her, where she quickly smothered it with her glove. The play stopped. The crowd rose to their feet again to applaud another incredible save. Luck or not, this save would be professional-league worthy. Her teammates tapped their sticks on the ice as the opposing players wearily made their way for another face off. Again, she had stoned them.
The rest of the period went on as it had before, with little scoring opportunities. The buzzer sounded again, signaling the end of the second period. The teams filed back to the locker rooms for a second time.
Helga stopped at the water fountain to refill her bottle. Tom approached her again.
"You keep makin' saves like that, we just might make the playoffs this year," he teased.
"Hah, right," she replied with a smile. Helga didn't let her great performance get to her head. Playing one great game doesn't make you an all-star. Making one save doesn't make you a pro. But she loved playing, and it was the best feeling in the world to her to rob someone of the satisfaction of beating her. To stand up to them and deny them any chance. To be the star for just a split second. She lived for that.
The intermission and locker room pep talk from the coach went by similar to the first. The two teams made their way back out onto the ice for the final period of the game. The score still at 1-0 from the first period had lasted and Helga prayed that it would. No, fuck that, she thought, it will. Prayer is for the weak. Helga shook the thought and took her place in front of the net for the final time, getting set for the onslaught of scoring chances she would no doubt have to face in this period.
The puck dropped. The other team aggressively attacked it, pushing it passed one of their players and skating it across the neutral zone. Helga glided out from her crease to face the shooter, who proceeded to fling a rather soft wrist-shot in on goal due to the defenseman pressuring him from behind. Helga scooped up the puck and covered it for a whistle after seeing an opposing player closing in on her out of the corner of her eye. The player stopped just before the goal, spraying her with a shower of ice. That was something you just don't do. Helga took a quick shove at his leg with her stick. He swatted at her pad with his stick. One of her team's defensemen shoved the guy across his chest with his stick. Suddenly the two exploded on one another, throwing off the gloves and grabbing each other. All the while, the two tried to exchange punches as the other players stood by and watched. The referee, however, was quick to break them up. The two players were both escorted off to the benches. Normal penalties went to the penalty box; they were being tossed for the rest of the game. Fighting was not tolerated in this league; something Helga never agreed with.
The game resumed, and the rest of the period went on with more scoring chances against her, than against the other goalie. She held them off, making save after save to keep her team in the game and get the win. The clocked wound down to the final minute of the game. The other team gained possession of the puck in Helga's end, and opted to pull their goalie to get an extra skater onto the ice. The other goalie quickly scooted to the bench for the extra attacker. Most goalies would think that it was time to dig deep. It was time to make sure that puck doesn't go in your net. But all Helga saw was a gaping four by six target at the other end of the rink.
One of the opposing players held the puck out near the blue line, opting to shoot the puck down along the boards and behind the net. Helga saw that no one was directly behind the net and quickly slid out of her crease to stop the puck. She pulled the puck back to her as the opposing players closed in on her, eager to steal the puck from her and put it in the now open net. Helga lingered momentarily, drawing a siren of confused jeers from the crowd. Then, just as the other team neared her, she shot the puck up and out of her end – and right for the other goal. A player on the other team raced back to try to get the puck, but it was too late. It glided across the line and right into the net. The goal horn sounded again, and the audience cheered and clapped. Helga's teammates gave her a quick tap on the back of the legs with their sticks. She thrusted an arm up in a quick celebration before recomposing herself and preparing for the next face off.
The clock ticked down to the final few seconds of the game. And at last, the horn sounded and the crowd applauded the well-fought win of the evening. Helga's teammates lined up to give her a quick congratulation before they headed back to the locker room.
The atmosphere in the locker room was ecstatic, to say the least. The first game of the season, and no doubt Helga was the big reason why they won. She knew it, but acted as if nothing had even happened. Sure, in her head, the euphoric sensation of victory filled her thoughts and even caused a light smile to sprout on her face. After all, it's hard to keep happiness bottled up.