The whistle blows forplayers to get back on the ice. I skate to the left of the big blue circle,facing my orange-clad opponents. As the puck drops, the sticks clash. I see thestreak of his jersey take the puck off the face-off and skate past the defense. Isee the number 11 on his back as I skate after him.
My skates dig into thehard, cold ice. I look around but no one is there except my goalie. I see himstart to wind up to take a shot, so with all my effort I dive and reach out withmy stick to try to block it.
The shot gets away and is deflected off mygoalie and up into the air. It lands in the crease. I'm on the ice and trying tohit the puck, but just as I'm about to, it bounces over my stick.
Thepuck rolls over the goal line, and I see the orange jersey jump in the air andget covered by other orange jerseys. I hear one side of the arena erupt in cheersand screams, while the other side sits and falls silent. I start banging my headon the ice, thinking about what went wrong and knowing I can do nothingmore in this period of overtime.
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