Page 86 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
A little while later, it’s game on.
The puck drops, and the energy explodes. The Avalanche face off against the Blue Hawks, and within seconds, bodies are crashing against the boards, sticks clashing, skates cutting hard into the ice.
The Avalanche won the faceoff, sending the puck back to their defense. Quick, controlled passes. A clean breakout up the right wing. One of our forwards dangles past a defenseman, skates cutting sharp lines as he maneuvers around a Blue Hawks defender.
Keith grips the edge of his seat beside me. Hazel’s clutching her camera, taking pictures when she can, one of her arms wrapped around Mia, who’s sat on her lap while Nico is beside me, happily munching on a pretzel and clapping. The kids might not understand every detail of the game, but they feel the excitement in the air.
A Blue Hawks winger gets the puck and speeds down the left side, maneuvering past our defense. My stomach tightens. The shot is fast, I almost missed it, but Blake is faster. He drops low, blocking the shot with his pads, and the puck bounces off, sliding behind the net. Blake just made his first big save of the night.
The crowd erupts in cheers, a few groans from the visiting section.
I jump to my feet, screaming. “YES! THAT’S MY…” I catch myself before I say my man. Keith throws me a look. Instead, I clear my throat and clap harder. “Let’s go, Avalanche!”
“Daddy blocked it!” Nico bounces.
“That’s my guy!” Keith beams.
It was a tough game from then on; after all, it’s the best-of-7 qualifying series for the Kelly’s Cup and both teamswant it.Hard hits, lightning-fast passes, and nerve-wracking saves keep everyone on edge.
In the next 50 minutes, the score is 4-3, with Avalanche on the win, obviously.
Six more minutes.
The tension in the arena is suffocating. Every time the Blue Hawks push forward, every Avalanche fan holds their breath. Every time Blake makes a save, the crowd explodes. Every second that ticks down feels like an eternity.
With five minutes left, the Hawks, desperate to tie it up, are pressinghard.
“They’re gonna pull their goalie,” Keith mutters beside me, hands on his head.
Sure enough, with five minutes left, the Hawks’ bench signals. Their goalie skates off.Extra attacker.The crowd noise swells with nervous energy - half cheers, half anxiety.
“Oh, come on,” Keith mutters, shaking his head. “Blake, better hold that line.”
The Hawks cycle the puck with surgical precision - left boards, back to the point, quick pass to the slot - shot!
THUMP! Off Blake’s chest - the rebound kicks out. Another shot - a diving block from Liam - puck squirts loose - third shot - SAVE! Blake snags it with his glove, the crowd roaring.
“YES!” Hazel and I leap to our feet.
Seeing him like this - in his element, fierce and focused - hits me with a wave of nostalgia.High school games. Same intensity. Same guy. Different life.
Two minutes.Oh no! A turnover.
The Avalanche steals the puck. An open net at the other end.
Our center rips a shot from beyond the blue line…
The puck slides…
Please. Please. Please.
My eyes follow the puck as it slides.
Please.
Bam.
Silence. Somehow, everywhere is silent.
