Page 75 of Retaking the Shot
The next evening,our group of ten made its way to the suite Coop had arranged for us to watch the game from. He’d left our hotel room earlier in the day to do whatever stuff the team needed to do before such an important game.
“This is a killer view,” Tyler said, looking out over the arena.
I walked over to him. Being higher up gave me a new perspective since I was used to watching the game closer to the ice. From here, we’d be able to see all the action. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”
“You guys want anything to drink?” Hayden opened the bar fridge stocked with various beers, sodas, and sparkling waters.
“I’ll take a Coke,” I replied.
Tyler turned around. “Beer for me.”
“What about you all?” Kaylee asked my grandparents, as well as Coop’s parents and mine before moving over to help Hayden grab everyone’s drinks.
With my drink in hand, I took a seat in the oversized leather recliners and settled in to watch the teams warm up. I spotted Coop right away, and he gave me a small wave when he looked in our direction.
It seemed like everything moved at a much faster pace than usual, but maybe it was because we were all pumped up for the final game.
Fifteen minutes after warm-ups ended, the lights went down, and music began to play. We all jumped to our feet and cheered as the teams returned to the ice.
This was it.
22
COOP
I was exhausted.
My legs were burning, my back was hurting, and I was certain I had blisters on both of my feet. I’d been checked into the boards more times than I could count and had checked many guys myself. And the game could end at any second since we were in overtime.
Glancing up at the scoreboard, I saw we had three minutes and twenty-two seconds left of thesecondovertime period. I couldn’t remember ever seeing game seven of the Finals going into overtime. Let alone double OT.
Not only had I not expected the game to go so long, but I had plans.
Plans no one knew about.
Well, except Assistant Coach Carey.
“Are you ready to fucking do this?” Butcher asked as we sat on the bench waiting for our line to go on.
I’d been ready since the third period, but we hadn’t been able to get the puck past Vegas’ goalie.
In fact, no one had scored the entire game.
“Yeah, let’s fucking go.”
We changed on the fly, knowing it was time for the two of us to get back onto the ice. As the puck slid from Brunner to Friberg, I got into position near the blue line, ready for the puck. It was almost as though I could taste the win as I slapped my stick on the ice to signal I wanted the puck.
Friberg sent the puck to Butcher, who hit it to me. I pulled back and sent it flying toward the net, then held my breath as I watched it soar past Ruzek and into Vegas’ net.
In an instant, I threw my stick down onto the ice, my gloves into the air, and rushed toward Butcher, Brunner, and Friberg, and we hugged and shouted in victory. The team rushed out, and we all met in the center of the ice as we continued to embrace and cheer our victory. Some of us fell to the ice as we were unable to control ourselves, but holy shit, we did it.
After we were done, we formed a line and shook hands with Vegas. They played a hell of a series and as I went down the line, hugging some players and shaking hands with all of them, I could see the defeat on their faces.
The handshakes continued with their coaching staff and then we skated over to ours, where we got hats that said we were the Stanley Cup champions. I stared at it for a few seconds as I read the words over and over, still not believing we had pulled it off. Not that I didn’t think we could, but because the moment was so surreal.
The Golden Knights saluted their fans before they skated off the ice. Soon after, I was pulled over for an interview.
“Emmett Cooper, Stanley Cup Champion. Tell me, what’s going through your mind?”
