Page 32 of Icing on the Cake

The Vikings recover and start a rush of their own. I recognize their play immediately and fall back into our zone to intercept a pass meant for Mills.

He curses as I poke it away and clear it down the ice for an icing call.

My chest heaves as we circle back for the face-off. This is what it comes down to: who wants it more?

The Vikings may have talent, but we have history. We have tradition.

And most importantly, we have each other.

Drew leans in close. “Remember freshman year?”

How could I forget? It was another season opener, just likethis one. We were down by two goals against Dartmouth with five minutes left in the period.

A defenseman tried to cut me off, his stick poised to swipe at the puck as soon as it came within reach. But with a quick flick of my wrist, I sent the puck sailing between his skates.

I spun around the defenseman and quickly reclaimed possession. The thrill of outsmarting and outmaneuvering the opposition was almost as euphoric as that feeling I get right before I bust a nut.

The goalie prepared to block my shot, his beady little eyes, hidden behind his mask, darting frantically as he tried to predict my next move.

I reared back, channeling all my strength into one explosive shot that hit the back of the net with a satisfying swish. It was my first college hockey game ever, and it was because of me we won. From that moment onward, I was the go-to guy when in a pinch.

And I’m ready to do my duty once again.

Our game plan is simple but deadly, not unlike a well-placed sniper shot. It’s something we’ve been working on all preseason with Coach Donovan’s guidance. A quick give-and-go that exploits even the slightest defensive lapse. We call it the “Barracuda Bite.”

Drew wins the face-off clean, and I’m already in motion, skating backward to our blue line. He flicks the puck to me with a nonchalant ease, then takes off like a rocket down the center of the ice. The Vikings’ defense collapses around him, thinking he’s going for a breakaway.

I survey the ice as my heart pounds in my ears. This is the moment where all our practice either pays off or leaves us floundering. I wind up as if I’m going to launch a Hail Mary pass, and the defenders bite hard, peeling away from Drew to intercept.

Suckers.

With a delicate touch, I saucer the puck over two sticks and right onto Drew’s blade. He doesn’t even break stride as he bursts through the now-gaping hole in their defense.

The crowd sucks in a collective breath.

Drew ends up one-on-one with the goalie, and I can see every muscle in his body tense with focus. He fakes left, then right, then left again. The goalie overcommits, sprawling out like a starfish on too much eggnog.

Time slows to a crawl as Drew whacks the puck viciously.

I watch as it arcs over the goalie’s flailing glove and kisses the top corner of the net with a soft tick.

Silence.

Then, the arena explodes with noise as our fans leap to their feet, screaming and hollering. The goal horn blares from the speakers, and I rush over to Drew, tackling him in a bear hug.

We skate to our bench for high-fives and fist bumps. Coach Donovan gives us an approving nod. His usual stern demeanor cracks just enough to show he’s pleased.

The announcer’s voice crackles over the PA system. “Scoring for the Barracudas, number twenty-seven, Drew Larney! Assisted by number seven, Gerard Gunnarson!”

Drew’s already talking about the next play, but I let his words wash over me. For now, I just want to bask in this moment—the first goal of the season. The first of many.

Depending on who you ask,being slammed into the boards can either be fun or agony. For me, it’s rejuvenating. There’s nothing like having a two-hundred-plus-pound guy flattening me like a pancake as the fans jump back in horror.

Sometimes, there’s blood, but not today.

For those of you keeping track, I’ve been slammed into the boards no less than five times, and my eyes are doing a jig inside my skull.

I shake my head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs, but itonly makes the pain worse. The Vikings are playing a physical game, and I’m their favorite target.

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