It’s with that one minute of silence that we se the true meaning of the game. Here we’ll sit almost every night of our week, it’s not because we have to, only because we love to. The rush of the break away, the scream of the save, every thing is always in a rush. In these seats there’s only one bad thing, matt’s goalie stick slamming on the ice, letting us know there has been a goal on him. Fate and luck won’t help us through the night, only the pure talent that is shining through every player, coach and play. Every more so perfect, now if we could only learn to get the shot on net.
Merrimack River Rats
November 27, 2008