A Roller Coaster Life: Road to the Stanley Cup

I took a deep breath, hoping I would calm down. I had just finished taking the AP World History national exam, the one we had prepared for all this year in class. It was tiring, and my hand hurt from all the writing. This was one of those times I wished I was ambidextrous. I wanted to prevent my mind from wandering again, especially when I tried to avoid the emotional pain I faced.

Rolling on my side, I wondered what I should do. It was early in the afternoon because the test ended before the school day ended. I decided on working on my homework from chemistry, my favorite subject in school. I understood it easily, and it could ease my mind in some weird way. Who knows, balancing equations could be the next big thing to relieve stress years from now.

I searched through my open backpack on the floor, taking out the chemistry homework. It was objectives on the gas laws. You know, Charles' Law, Boyle's Law? Oh, maybe not. The gas laws were easy to understand, and I loved doing these problems, too.

After all of the objectives assigned to me were done, I turned on my TV. I searched through the channels, and I decided on watching WGN 9 News. Yes, it was that early in the afternoon. Early enough for me to watch the news at noon.

A certain segment in sports caught my eye. The Chicago Blackhawks had won the series against the Vancouver Canucks. Just two days before, too. In three more days, on Sunday, the Hawks would be playing against the San Jose Sharks in the Western Conference Finals. That sounded really interesting to me, and I thought, 'Why not? I can finally watch a Hawks game, since I finished all the rest of my homework and projects. I deserve to relax and watch a game.'

So I took a Post-it note and wrote:
Sunday, May 16
Hawks @ San Jose Sharks
DON'T MISS IT FOR THE WORLD

I smiled at the note to myself and placed it on the computer desk. I would make sure that I watched that game, no matter what.

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I sat myself down on the couch, thrilled. Today was finally Sunday, Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals. It was my first game to watch for a long while, and I couldn't wait to watch it. My dad sat on the chair to my right, wanting to watch the game as well.

Since it was my first game in a while, I had a refresher course on the game. It came back to me pretty quickly, and then I made it my next project to remember the names of the guys on the teams. I looked at the screen, seeing the guy on the Hawks with the 'C' on his jersey. He obviously was the captain, but man, he looked so young! I shrugged it off and mentally told him through the TV, 'Turn around so I can see your last name.' I stared at the TV until the captain finally allowed me to see his last---

Oh HELL no.

I know I am pretty crazy. There's no denying it, I'm almost positive that I am abnormal. Especially when I just realized that I said that out loud...

"What is it?" That was my dad. I sighed to myself. I guess I might as well tell him, right?

"There is just no way in HELL that his name is pronounced 'TOES'. Please tell me it's pronounced another way."

"It's pronounced 'Tayves'."

"Tays?"

"No, 'Tayves."

"Ohh, okay," I said. "I just don't get how you can even get that kind of a pronunciation when there's clearly no 'A' in his name."

He disregarded me, like a lot of people did recently, and turned his attention back to the TV. I looked back and saw our goaltender. Wow, that's a pretty cool mask. What's his name? I hope he turns around soon...

When he turned around, I immediately read his last name. "Niemi, right," I asked to no one in particular. My dad said, "Yeah, that's correct. Niemi." I nodded, saying to myself, 'At least I got his last name down. Phase one complete.'

I continued to memorize names, faces, and numbers. It got much easier to pronounce last names (save the first time I saw Kopecky, but common sense told me that his name would not literally sound like "peck") as I saw them. Still, it took time to correctly match the players' last names with their numbers.

The first player I was able to recognize right away was not the captain, as many might think. It was the goaltender, Niemi, that stuck in my mind. I watched more of the pregame report, listening as facts about both teams were being listed. When Niemi's name came up again, I paid close attention, learning that he was a rookie goalie.

I smiled because in that moment I knew he would do well. Something told me instantly that he would certainly help get us to the Stanley Cup. It was strange because I hadn't been able to see him play before the game taking place today, and I already made my mind up with him. Regardless, I kept my faith in Niemi, and I decided I would never let that faith go.

As the game began, I was in awe with the HP Pavilion, or "the Shark Tank". It looked beautiful in there, with the Sharks players skating through the shark head and the overall look of the center. The excitement I harbored earlier only grew, and I couldn't wait until the puck-drop. The national anthem amazed me, and I felt so much pride in hearing it. When the puck finally did drop, I danced in my seat.

I may have been too excited to see my first game in a while, but it didn't matter. Who cared? This was something I knew would make me happy. I felt my dad's stare on me, and I resisted the urge to snap a smart remark at him. I kept my focus in the game and nothing else. Well, at the very least I tried to do so. My dad's cursing certainly didn't help in my attempts to hear the game.

I found myself mesmerized by the game. The way the Sharks used their physicality in their playing (though devastating was the first word I called it when I saw the first few hits) was startling. It also had a rather...thrilling sense to it.

Halfway into the first, I watched as a Sharks player named Clowe skate towards our net with the puck. I jumped when one announcer said, "...AND A STOP BY NIEMI!" I saw the goaltender make a save with his right pad, the puck flying to his right toward the boards. I clapped and cheered, even though I was not watching the game live. Niemi was easily finding his way into my heart.

Time ticked down to just under nine minutes, and finally the first goal of the game was
scored. However, it was not the Hawks who had scored.

Number sixty of the Sharks, Demers, had the puck on his stick and slapped it to Niemi. It took an unfortunate bounce off his arm and into the net, and I winced at the cheering from the fans of the other team and the rather loud goal horn. I shook my head and then thought to myself, 'Keep your head together, Niemi. We've still got a chance to win this.'

Another power play had been called for the Sharks, and I knew that we had to step up our game. The goaltenders were wonderful in their nets, the game still at the low score of 1-0. I watched as Heatley took his shot at Niemi, who blocked it with his arm. As the period winded down, we had some great chances, but none of them could get past Nabokov. The score remained the same; 1-0 Sharks.

I prayed that the Hawks would win the game as I watched the first intermission. They had plenty of time to get themselves playing better and to turn the game in their favor. From the way Niemi was playing, he must have had a similar mindset. Even through the first time of watching him play, I loved his playing style and knew he was going to become one of my top favorite players.

Thankfully first intermission passed by quickly. It was not that much later before I was watching Niemi making wonderful saves. Just five minutes into the period, and I leaped off my spot on the couch in a worried rage. The Sharks had an opportunity to get the puck through an open space to the goalie's right, but Thornton had fallen on Niemi. If he had gotten the opportunity to actually slip it by him, I would have been absolutely livid.

The other Hawks quickly sent the puck down to the middle, and I sat down and sighed in relief. Not even a minute later I was cheering for Niemi's next save, pushing himself off his other leg and snaring the puck easily with his trapper.

Another exciting sequence followed. This time, it was working in our favor. Sharp received a pass from Keith and headed towards goaltender Nabakov. The play quickly became a three-on-two, and Sharp expertly sent it behind the screened goalie. My dad and I jumped up and hollered as if we were at the game in San Jose. We had tied it at one.

Chance after chance resulted from the exponential increase of our momentum. There was a really nice one from Versteeg. If only it hadn't bounced off Nabokov's glove...

In terms of offense, nothing happened for either side. The game remained tied 1-1. However, there was a point in the second period where it could have easily been tipped once again in our opponent's favor.

The Sharks had a power play--Seabrook had a penalty for holding--and had particularly productive one. They had numerous shots on goal, but Niemi easily blocked them away. The second to last one came in from his left, and he impressively dropped forward, using his large goalie pads to send it out. I lifted up my hands to clap at the effort when the rebound had landed right near another Shark's stick. The player shot the puck to the far right side of the net, where Niemi was not.

It should have been an easy goal for the Sharks.

A save that was impossible to make.

Instead the unimaginable happened.

Niemi, with another push off his skate, slid across the crease and--in one fluid motion--fell in the path where he anticipated the puck was flying, onto his back. The black rubber disk momentarily disappeared from view, and I gasped loudly.

WHERE IN THE HELL DID THE PUCK GO?

I heard the first announcer--who I learned was Mike Emrick--shout, "OHHH NIEMI, WITH A GREAT SAVE ON CLOWE!" A whistle sounded, and I stopped momentarily to scan the screen. The players on both teams had halted and were looking directly at the Blackhawks goalie, who carefully stood up on his skates. My jaw hung wide open, and I watched the screen with wide eyes.

I was in total amazement.

NBC showed the replay of the miraculous save, listening to the second announcer--Eddie Olczyk--in the background as I analyzed the save. When Niemi had fallen on his back, the puck had flown into his trapper. From the trapper it was flung out and before any Shark had the chance to send the rebound into the net, Niemi swung his leg against the post, blocking the puck with the backside of his leg.

"Whoa, what a stop...That is OUTSTANDING."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Whether I had recovered my ability to form my thoughts into words or not (and in this case, definitely not).

Before the period winded down into second intermission, Niemi made another wonderful stop. I clapped and nodded my head, loving the way he played. I also noticed that Mike Emrick and Eddie Olczyk had said he was a rookie goaltender.

They could have fooled me, Niemi included. The way he was playing was spectacular, and for him to be just a rookie dumbfounded me. I smiled, knowing I could confidently say that he was the man in net for us. No one should question that, and this game was one point that proved my theory.

The next time I looked at the screen, the third period was about to begin. I must have been thinking a lot about a certain goalie I became very fond of so quickly.

Both goalies made save after save, but no goals were scored even past the halfway mark of the third period. I was getting a bit anxious, hoping we would break the tie soon.

With just under seven minutes of the game left, we won the faceoff and Byfuglien, with the pass coming from Kane and Toews, easily scored against Nabakov. I leaped up and celebrated; We gained the lead for the first time this game.

Thrilling would not be the correct word to describe the remainder of game one. Not even close. Versteeg received a penalty with nearly a minute left, and we were shorthanded. I watched closely to every shot the Sharks slapped to Niemi. The goalie quickly--and effectively--shut them down. My heart raced as the puck bounced off of Niemi and went to the boards, where one of our guys sent it down the other end of the ice. The horn signaling the end of the period--and of the game--sounded, and I smiled greatly.

One game down, three to go.

I watched the Hawks as they skated over to Niemi, congratulating him on the win. It may have been just me, but throughout the course of the game, I could feel the chemistry flowing in the Hawks. The happiness in their faces, though expected, was almost radiating from the TV. What really made my smile stay on my face was seeing my favorite player's eyes, gleaming as if he was smiling underneath the red goalie mask.

In this short moment, the Hawks were not just a professional hockey team celebrating after a well-fought win in a west coast city.

They were my Hawks, and I felt their joy even here, as if we were in the same city, or even in the same arena.

We were one game closer to the Cup...

And we won it with just one goal.

I realized then, after the whole action and thrill of the game subsided, how passionate I was throughout the first game of the series. I showed so much emotion, and it was almost completely safe to say that I was the happiest I had been in a few weeks.

The promise I made to my team was definitely strengthened by this game, and I was highly confident about my Hawks winning the Stanley Cup.

The only question that remained in my mind now:

When's the next game?