The Crosby Life

I watched the shootout on the bench.
This game was just like the rest, we had the lead and we blew it because we didn’t take care of the puck. Now we are in a shootout, and Kris and Sidney just got the puck in the nets, but so did Ovechkin. I hate Ovechkin.
Geno and Gonch didn’t play tonight, but I am surprised that we did play fairly well without them, just not well enough.
I dropped my head when the next Capital player got the puck in, and now we would go to a sudden death shootout. Although it only took one extra round.
Knuble made a fake head movement that got Marc-Andre to one side, and he got the puck into the net.
My heart stopped immediately, just in time for Marc to turn and slam his stick against the net. He skated to the runway and stormed down it, more than likely throwing his gear off. I looked at Sidney, and he motioned for me to go first, to go after him.
I ran down the runway, which is really hard when wearing skates may I add, to catch up with him. “Marc!” I called, but he didn’t turn around.
I jumped over his helmet, turning around to pick it up, and continued to chase him to the locker room. He was pulling off his jersey, in an angry way, and I stopped behind him. “Marcy?”
I reached out to touch his shoulder, but he stepped away from me, not turning around to face me. “Don’t…” He said, and I could hear the sob he was holding back in his throat.
My shoulders slumped and I dropped my hand, just as the other guys came in, most in a dead, angry silence. I met Sidney’s eyes and he motioned for me to come over to him.
I walked over, holding back tears, and he pulled me into a hug. “Don’t worry, Erra.” He said soothingly. “He just needs some time to cool off. He’s just really upset right now.”
I rested my forehead on his padded shoulder, wrinkling my nose at the smell of sweat. “But I want to help him. I should be able to help him. But he isn’t letting me.” I bit my lip to try to keep from crying.
Sidney pulled away and brushed my sweat-drenched hair away from my face. “Sometimes it’s better just to let him be alone for a while. Sometimes guys just need to think. Don’t take it personally, Erra. You know that sometimes I get like that too. It’s just one of those days.”
I nodded and reached in his bag for my contact stuff and my glasses. “If you say so.” I sniffed.
Sidney hugged my shoulders and kissed my temple. “Trust me, sis. He will come to you soon. He loves you with all his heart. He just needs some alone time for now.” He whipped my eyes for me. “Go get a shower before the guys get impatient and you’ll be stuck being all sweaty.” He smiled.
I smiled back weakly and grabbed my clothes and headed towards the showers. I took off my jersey and then all my gear and skates and stepped into the shower. I was planning on taking my time, but I ended up washing quickly.
I took my contacts out, pouring the solution over them, and cleaned my glasses and put them on. I slipped on my clothes and gathered up my gear to drag them to my bag out in the locker room.
The guys started to make their ways to the showers since I was out, and I knelt down at my bag and slowly packed it. Mike brought out my contacts that I left. “Oh, thank you.”
He smiled. “Don’t want to forget those.” He tapped my head which made me smile slightly.
Dan let the reporters in, and I tried my hardest to ignore them by busying myself with other things, but they were determined to talk with me. “Miss. Crosby, a word please?”
I sighed and turned around to face the man that wanted to talk with me. “What is it?” I asked as politely as I could.
The man shoved the microphone in my face and I resisted the urge to sigh again. “How do you think you guys played tonight?”
I actually had to think about that. “Umm, well, we did play pretty well, but not well enough. We should have been able to keep our lead, especially with that shorthanded goal. That was our mistake, and it overall cost us the game.”
The man nodded. “But don’t you think that Marc-Andre Fleury should have been your backbone and helped with that?”
I bit my lip as my anger flared. No one dares to pin the blame on him, especially not around me. I spoke flatly, so flatly I even scared myself. “I’m sorry, but I am going to have to ask you to not pin the blame on him.” The man blinked in surprise as the coldness of my voice. “And to answer your ‘question’, it is never his fault- it is never a goaltenders fault. Goaltenders can’t stop everything that comes at them. Everybody seems to think that that’s what happens, but it isn’t. Every goaltender is human, they cannot stop every puck. It is our fault for letting the opposing team to take the puck down to our end.”
The reporter was stunned by the cold and flatness of my voice. He looked like he wanted to ask something else, but Dan put his hand on his shoulder to beckon him away.
Brooks sat down next to me and nudged me with his shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like that.” He grinned. “What a way to prove a point to the world, or whoever will watch that or read the transcript.”
I looked down. “It isn’t his fault. It’s never his fault. It’s never any goaltenders fault.”
Brooks nodded. “We know that. Hockey teams know that. But outsiders don’t because no one truly understands the game unless they actually play it. It’s hard to understand that goaltenders can’t save everything unless you are a part of the game.”
I nodded and leaned against him. “Your interview went well.” I chuckled dryly.
I felt Brooks nod. “Yeah, pretty much.” He laughed as well and reached down. “Want to go wait outside? It’s getting too crowed in here.”
I nodded and grabbed my bag, heading outside the locker room and leaned against the wall, texting Jenna about the drama. She found it hilarious and that the media needed to be told the truth about goaltenders.
I dropped into a sitting position, bringing my knees to my chest with my back resting against the wall. My eyes rested at the toes of my shoes.
A shadow rested over me and I looked up, my breath catching once I saw it was Marc-Andre. He was looking down at me, but not meeting my eyes. I could see the frustration and how upset he was in his eyes. “Marcy?” I asked quietly.
He held out his hand I took it. He pulled me to my feet and pulled me against him, hugging me tightly. I hugged him back just as tightly.
“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” He kept saying, over and over again.
I felt tears sting my eyes as I stroked the back of his head. “Its fine, Marcy. It’s fine.” I said, trying to comfort him. “I don’t blame you, I never blame you.”
Marc-Andre’s breathing was uneven, no doubt from the frustration. “I should have been able to stop those shots. I should have been able to win this for us.”
I felt a few tears fall down my cheeks. “No baby, sometimes you just can’t stop them. You have the hardest job of all. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
I felt his fingers tense along my back, squeezing me closer again him. He dropped his head on my shoulder, hiding his face against my shoulder and neck. “I should have been better. I could have been better.”
I shook my head and kissed his head, feeling his wet hair on my lips. “You did your best, honey. That’s all any of us can ask from you.”
Marc-Andre didn’t say anything. The two of us just stayed there like that until Kris walked up. “Hey, we’re leaving.” He spoke in French. Marc-Andre stood up to his full height, shoulder drooped though, and Kris laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, none of us blame you man. You were great for us. We should have been better.”
I smiled a soft thank you towards Kris as Marc-Andre nodded. Marc took my hand and I squeezed his. We walked outside with the team silently.
Some of the guys tried to keep the air light on the bus, but for Marc-Andre, it was far from light. I could see that his thoughts were tormenting him. I squeezed his hand again and leaned against him. I knew saying anything wouldn’t help, so I decided to just let my presence try to make him feel better.
On the plane, I let him rest against me. He used my shoulder as a pillow as I read a book while stroking one of his hands as he drifted in and out of sleep. I was praying that his dreams weren’t terrorizing him as well.
I drove the Escalade home, even though I hate driving that thing because it is too big for my taste, but I wasn’t allowed Marc-Andre to drive in his state of mind, and Jordan was half asleep.
I pulled into the driveway of the house and reached back to wake Jordan up. “Jor, take the hockey bags into the house please. “We’ll take the rest.”
Jordan nodded and yawned. He grabbed our hockey bags and Marc-Andre and I grabbed the other stuff we had to take in.
Jordan collapsed on the couch, and I decided to just let him sleep there for the night. If he wanted to sleep on the couch and not his bed, fine with me. I’m not his mother.
Marc-Andre trudged his way to our room, and I picked Aislinn off of our bed and set her in her cat bed as Marc sat on the edge of the bed.
I slipped into my pajamas quickly since his back was to me, and then crawled onto the bed towards him. I sat on my knees behind him and placed my arms around him. He leaned back against me and I held him closer. “I’m sorry.” He whispered quietly.
My chin rested on Marc’s shoulder. “Stop saying sorry, Marcy. It isn’t your fault honey.”
Marc-Andre pulled away from me and turned to face me. He brought his legs up on the bed and took a hold of me, pulling me into his lap and he held me close. “I’m not apologizing for that.” He whispered in French. “I’m sorry for how I acted and for turning away from you at first. I know I upset you, and upsetting you is something I never, ever want to do. Upsetting you kills me inside and I feel terrible about it.”
I curled up in Marc’s arms and he held me closer against him. “It’s ok, it really is. I understood that you just needed some time to think.”
I felt Marc-Andre shake his head. “Hurting you and upsetting you is never ok, Sierra. That loss and losses like that really piss me off and I get really upset, but taking it out on you is completely unacceptable.”
“You didn’t take it out on me Marc. It wasn’t like you were yelling at me.” I tried to reason with him.
Marc-Andre shifted me in his arms. “I took it out on you emotionally, not physically or through voice.” He stopped for a moment. “And I would never harm you in any way, especially not physically. Doing something like that would tear me apart.”
I looked up at him. “Marcy, I know you would never hurt me. Even if you are furious, I know you wouldn’t harm me. Sid knows that too or else he wouldn’t allow me to be with you.” I smiled slightly.
Marc-Andre shifted himself to get under the covers of our bed, but still kept me in his lap, holding me close. “I would never hurt you. I could never hurt you.” He kept whispering, and I realized he was just saying this to comfort himself. I knew that he knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but for some reason he just has to tell himself that. I reached over and turned off the light, and Marc took a hold of my hand and I felt him fingering the promise ring he gave me on Valentine’s Day. “I love you more than the world, Erra. I will do anything for you.”
I rested my head on his chest as he laid down. “Cheer up.” I pleaded quietly. “I hate seeing you upset.” I choked back a sob.
Marc-Andre squeezed my hand and then hugged me tightly. “I’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.” He answered back, just as quietly. “I hate seeing you so upset too. I love you, Sierra.”
I closed my eyes. I knew he would feel better in the morning, he always does. “I love you too, Marcy.”
The two of us were quiet from then on. We just held each other, comforting each other with our presence, and it really did help. We eventually fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other’s arms.