The Brick Wall

Chapter 28

Curtis POV

  I might be playing the best game of my life.

  Even in just the middle of the second period, I feel it deep in my bones.  This one is going to go down in hockey goalie history books. I mean, it may just be my own history books, but still. This will be a game that I tell Lennox about as she gets older and straps on her own pads.  This will be the game tape I show my son, giving him pointers on how to get past one of the best goalies he may ever face.

  His own dad.

  The game that I hope my future wife can look up online and brag about to her friends one day.  That she'll have a proud smile on her face when she speaks my name and the teams I've played for.

  I'm getting way too far ahead of myself. I have Lennox and no other prospects to even let my mind wander to the thought of having a wife, let alone a son.  The life of one night stands is no longer on my radar. The day I start dating again, it'll be for something that'll last.

  Whenever that might be.

  By the time I'm skating off the ice for intermission I'm getting slaps on the shins by my teammates sticks, gloves to the back of my helmet and a swift knowing nod from Coach Anson.

  He knows it, too.

  We're up one to nothing, which means the pep talk is pointed more towards the offensive players. Coach reminds the defense that if they slack off, that everything can change just by the mere sound of a slapshot getting past all of us.  He eyes me for just a half a second before making an announcement to the whole room.

  "Forty-three," he shouts loudly, running his hand through his hair. "Anyone want to guess what that number means?"

  "The number of STDs Thad had to be treated for last year," Miles smarts off, too young in this game or the team to realize he's just earned himself suicides at practice after the break.

  Coach Anson gives a quick look over to assistant coach Buddy who starts scribbling something on his clipboard while the rest of us give a round of 'damns' and 'dudes.'  Blake is next to me on the bench, muttering just loud enough for Miles to hear, "You're so screwed."

  "Shots on goal," Anson continues. "I wish I could say it was our shots on goal. But you pansies are letting them get down into our zone more often than they should. Everett!"

  I straighten up a bit more on the bench, but with the weight of my pads and the bulkiness of them, it makes it difficult. "Yes, sir?"

  "That glove of yours is hot tonight," he tells me with another nod. "Forty three saves is more than you've had in any game." I give a nod of agreeance, well aware of my stats. "You've still got another period. Think you can keep up?"

  My jaw is set tight, once again remembering this is a one in a million game, I answer with a sure, "Yes, Coach."

  "The rest of you, make sure we're the only ones scoring out there. This is a big one, gentlemen. Don't lose focus now."

  And with that, he turns and walks back out towards the ice.

  I thought the roar of the crowd was incredible during the start of the game, but walking down the tunnel to head back out onto the ice for the third period, I realize that was barely a whisper.  The chorus of Walk on Water by Thirty Seconds to Mars is pumping through the speakers, lights down low with spotlights bouncing all around the arena as people light up the space with the flashlights from their cell phones.

  These are the moments I live for. Nothing else matters when I'm on the ice.  I'm focused, one goal in mind. Keep my sights set on the goal in front of me.