Through the frozen wilderness and knee deep snow I trudge on determined to get to the ice-covered pond that awaits my presence. The cold air freezes my nose and numbs my fingers and toes, but I have gone too far to turn back now. I come upon a hill, and on the other side I hear shouting that stops me dead in my tracks. I hear a loud, “I’m open”, and I rush towards the hill to see what the commotion is. Out of breath at the top of the hill I gaze upon greatness; a small game of shinny being played by my family and friends. I bolt down to the ice and quickly lace up my skates. After my first stride I can feel the bone chilling wind whip threw my luscious flow. I hear the ice crack below me and the yells from my teammates and opponents.
The game starts with the classic N-H-L face off and were on our way. In my head I can hear the crowd in the background chanting my name. My center wins the puck back. I dig the toes of my skates into the ice, and take off like a rocket ship. I cut to the middle yelling for a pass and receive it on my backhand. While stick handling I can feel the ridges of the puck rolling around the blade of my stick. Without thinking I throw a head fake, toe-drag around the defenseman, and head straight to the net. From there I get ready for my shot. I put all of my weight on my stick; I can feel the flex in my stick as it snaps forward. I follow through pointing to the top left corner. The puck rolls off my blade from heel to toe and zips through the air going bar down to make the score one to nothing. After scoring I dust the ice off with my hand while sliding on one knee. I think of myself as Guy Lafleur or Alexander Ovechkin and in my head I say, am I in heaven?