Confessions (New Beginnings #4)(2)

The crowd was chanting and had been on their feet for the entire overtime, but Mack tried to block them out. The fast, yet steady drumming of his heartbeat pulsed in his ears, muting all other sounds. He’d never wanted a win as much as he wanted this one.

Using his size to his advantage, Mack won the face-off, sliding the puck over to Carter. He took off towards center ice. One goal and they’d get the chance to do it all over again in the conference finals. Or, one goal against and it would all be over. Their season would be for naught.

Mack’s tired limbs forced themselves into a long stride to try to provide support for his wingers. He’d had more ice time than any other forward, and it was wearing on him. By this point in the game, no one was at their full speed. It became a game of attrition. Who could outlast the other guys?

An Islander ran Carter into the boards, okay - more like pushed because his strength was waning. Carter took too long to recover, and lost the puck.

Mack could see it as he raced up one side of the rink. The end. He knew what was going to happen. The Islander’s rubbery legs had just that much more energy in them than Carter’s as the rookie chased after the puck. A Jackets defender moved in, but the Islander passed to his teammate who was camped at the side of the net.

They would have been able to stop it in a normal game. They may have even been able to win the game. But tonight they had nothing left. Their tanks were empty, and it was too late.

Mack circled around the net as Islander players poured off the bench to celebrate. Any other day, Mack would have laughed at the three guys who fell over the boards because they were too exhausted to climb. The team mobbed their goaltender as Mack fell to his knees in front of his bench. His head sat heavy on his shoulders, but he strained to hold it high.

There was no sense of loss, of defeat, only a pure and complete bone weariness. It would hit him in the coming days, he knew. His season was over. But those thoughts took energy, and he was utterly depleted.

Olle, his captain, offered him a hand, and he took it to pull himself upright. The team that had been sitting in stunned silence watching their opponents celebrate moments before, now skated together across the ice.

It was the greatest tradition in sports, Mack always thought The hand shake. The two teams lined up and skated towards each other. The winning side said things like “you played well” or “great series”. The losing side wished them luck on their journey towards the Cup.

And then they parted, one team to continue chasing their dream, the other to start planning for next season and another chance at the playoffs.



“I’m proud of you boys,” Coach Peterson said, scanning the faces around the room. A few looked up while others hung their heads or leaned back into their locker stalls. Mack gripped the back of his sweat-soaked shirt and pulled it off over his head before tossing it in a nearby laundry bin.

He walked the few steps towards his stall and sat down, one hand massaging the muscles in his neck.

The coach paced in front of the team before stopping next to assistant coach Scott and continuing his obligatory speech.

“You fought hard,” he said. “No one expected us to even get past the first round. No one believed. Except for you. You believed. You worked for it. The people in this room knew more about this team than those waiting outside those doors. We were one goal away from the conference finals. That’s a step. We’re building something great here. That’s not what you want to hear. It’s not what I want to say. No one wants to be told they’ll get their chance next year. But here we are, our season over. Next year is what we have. You can wallow in this defeat, or you can go home this summer and work harder than you ever have before, preparing to do it all over again.”

He looked sideways at Coach Scott and nodded.

Coach Scott stepped forward. “The media has been told none of you are available tonight. Coach Peterson and I will do the interviews. Most of you look like you can barely stand. See the trainers if it’s more than weariness. If not, hit the showers and head home to your families. Before any of you leave for the summer in the next week, we’ll be holding individual meetings.”

Mack’s legs strained with each step as he headed for the showers. The icy blast hit him full force before turning warm. Placing one hand against the wall, he held himself up, letting the water run down his spine. His back cracked as he straightened up.

Ten minutes later, he was dressed is his suit and making his way gingerly towards the doors. He only lived a few minutes’ walk away so he never drove, but the prospect of taking any more steps was daunting.

It was late when he stepped out into the warm May air and away from the shadow of the arena. A car idled near the curb. Mack smiled slightly when he recognized the Lexus. Opening the door, he collapsed back against the plush leather seat with a sigh.