w 1 t n e s s

one

tyler

I was poised on the boards, ready for the line change I knew was coming. I gripped my stick tightly in one hand, more in frustration than fear of dropping it. The game wasn't going in our favor. I was having an off day. All of us were. Every time it looked like we were getting ready to fire up and get on track, the other team would do something that discouraged us. It felt terrible, knowing you weren't 100% and it was hurting your team.

The defense were all over the forwards. None of us had gotten a solid chance to sneak through and slam off a shot at the net. I wanted to score, and badly. Right now I didn't care about points. If we scored, we'd be tied with the Maple Leafs. The satisfaction would be enough to sate my hunger for scoring.

Before I launched myself onto the ice, I sprayed water on my face. I hoped the liquid would wake me up, but it did nothing. Instead, I had a wet helmet. I could tell our captain, Jonathan Toews, was aware how annoyed I was. He gave me a fleeting look of encouragement as we changed places. It didn't do anything to bolster my spirits. The second my skates hit ice, I took off. My left winger, Alex DeBrincat, gained possession of the puck. I pumped my legs, trying to split the defencemen in a way that opened a clear pass or shot for Brinksy. He did the latter, slapshotting the puck as hard as possible at the Leaf's goalie. When a pad knocked the black plastic back down to the ice, I cursed. I was already propelling myself forward. I accelerated now, desperate to take the puck away from the large blue-clad defenseman.

Down the ice I went, following the puck. I ignored the Leafs defensemen closing in on my left as I headed for the crease. My eyes never left the little black object, watching as the goalie passed it behind the net to another defensemen. I was close enough to press an attack. I went in for the kill.

I approached the puck with my stick outstretched desperately. I kept it low, not wanting to gather a hooking penalty. Come on, just a little reach and I'd have it. I was so close. The blade of my stick snagged the puck away from my opponent. I immediately started to pull it towards my body. Before I could fully steal the puck away and assess my options, a force equivalent to that of a freight train slammed into me. The check came from nowhere, completely catching my off guard. Everything slowed around me. The air left my body in a giant rush, causing an immediate reaction to start heaving for air. I couldn't catch my breath. Seconds passed slowly before the force continued to drive. I gasped as I was slammed sideways. Painfully, my neck snapped to the left, head rocketing into the glass. The motion made my shoulder connect painfully with the glass, jerking my arm up, and the stick with it. I expected the glass above the boards to break my fall. It didn't. My stick hit the glass at just the right angle, cracking the sheet from top to bottom. I think it would have held if the defensemen didn't continue to drive me sideways with his shoulder. I was plowed over the board, falling into the first few rows of seats. Glass shattered around me in large chunks, raining down like hail on my back. My head connected painfully with the back of an empty chair. I heard the initial crack of skin against hard plastic, then all noises ceased in my right ear where it had hit. I'm sure I blacked out for a few seconds.

When my senses regained a slight hold, I groggily tried to sit up. My head was ringing loudly. I couldn't hear anything besides the insistent buzzing. Disorientated, I turned my head. I was trying to find a teammate, a trainer, someone who could help me. Instead, I found someone completely unexpected. All the oxygen in my lungs immediately exited once more in shock. In my slightly concussed state, my eyes had room for only one person.

The most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. She was on her feet, looking down at me with a concern I'd rarely gathered from anyone. Both perfect hands were clapped over her mouth in shock. Her shining blonde locks framed her perfect face like a halo. Her eyes were as blue as the jersey she was wearing. Her skin was a beautiful sandy shade, golden and lustrous. She looked like a model. Perfect, perfect, perfect. I could almost imagine silvery angel wings behind her. Had I died and gone to heaven? I stared at her for what felt like hours. Everything moved in slow motion. It wasn't until a strong hand grabbed my jersey and pulled me back onto the ice that time resumed its normal rate.