Page 23 of Goalie Interference

He slides the puck between his legs, sending a blind pass to Roysy behind him. Roysy grabs it without issue, then skates the puck over the blue line, back into the Blizzards’ zone. He’s hit immediately by a defenseman and loses control of the puck.

Tavish is back over the boards for the Blizzards, replacing their third line center, and takes control of the puck. Immediately he’s on a breakaway heading right towards me. I come out of my net slightly to challenge him. To block his way. To get a read on him and where he wants to place his shot.

It works. By the time he winds up with his stick, I’ve slid back into the net and I’m able to glove the puck down before it even comes close to crossing over the goal line. The refs blow the whistle, bringing the play to a stop.

Ryan, Brandon, and O’Shea are back over the boards, switching out Roysy, Gauthier, and Reinhold. Danton and Clemmers do the same, refreshing our defense.

And of course, the Blizzards bring Connor and Gavin back out. Their best player and his bodyguard.

But that’s fine. They can do that all night. They’re still not winning this game. Hell, they haven’t even scored yet.

“Fun game, huh?” Ryan says when he reaches me.

“I am having good time,” I tell him as I take a sip of water from my bottle. “Think you can score another goal?”

“I’d rather Baby do it,” Ryan says. “I hear there’s a three-course meal with his name on it if he manages to score each period.”

“This is true.”

“He said he’d share with me.” Ryan spins around, taking a look at our surroundings like it’s just another Tuesday at our practice rink and not a grudge match game in a hostile barn.

“Baby is nice like that.”

“He really is.” Ryan smiles. “When he isn’t being a brat.” He pats me on the head with his glove. “See you in a bit. Keep up the good work. I promise to not say the S word.”

“Ryan!” Brandon snaps. “Don’t even think it!”

“Is he jinxing us again?” Danton yells out.

“No jinx.” Ryan laughs and heads to the faceoff dot. “Is your team like this?” he asks Connor.

“Like what?” Connor asks.

“A bunch of superstitious nut jobs.”

“It’s not superstition,” Connor says seriously.

“If you say so,” Ryan taunts as he crouches at the dot, readying himself for the puck to drop. Cleanly, he wins the faceoff and sends the puck directly to Danton this time, who braces himself for a hit from Gavin.

Just as Gavin is about to hit him, he passes the puck to Brandon who takes off down ice with it. Ryan is right in line with him, followed by O’Shea. But Brandon doesn’t even need their help. He’s able to deke past the Blizzards defense with ease. He stops on a dime, then quickly changes direction and suddenly he’s five feet from his brother.

I can see it from here. Ander’s stance is wrong. His timing isn’t right. His confidence is slipping.

Brandon flicks one in. The puck practically floats over Ander’s right leg and below the blocker pad on his arm.

The score is now three–zero.

Ander

How am I fucking up this badly? I don’t understand why nothing is going right for me tonight. I’m completely shaken. Lost and unfamiliar in my body. Why? What the fuck just happened?

It’s only a hockey game. I’ve played thousands of them, but I can’t remember the last time I let in this many goals with this few shots. My save percentage for this game has got to be abysmal. And my save percentage has been in the top five of the league since I made it here.

“Bouchard! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Coach Matthews barks in my direction. He signals for me to come to the bench. With my tail between my legs, I head over. He points at me. “You let in one more fucking goal tonight and I’m pulling you. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” I say. I swallow and keep my head down so I don’t have to see the rest of my teammates’ faces before I head back to the net before play begins again.

Gavin meets me at my net, but I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t even want to look at him. I can’t bear to see his disappointed face. I’m letting my team down.