Status: Being put on hold. I've run out of inspiration for this one :(
No One Belongs Here More Than You
Chapter Six
-A few weeks later-
My heart was racing almost painfully in my chest. There were thirty two seconds left in the game. The Penguins were up 2-1, and the Sharks were determined to win just as much as we were. It was game seven of the Stanley Cup Final and both teams were fighting tooth and nail. I was sent onto the ice for the last shift, and I briefly looked around before the ref blew the whistle and dropped the puck. I noticed a guy in a shark suit that looked like it was gnawing on a Penguin. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. I saw Ashley give me thumbs up, and I snapped my attention back to the faceoff right as the ref put the whistle to his mouth. The puck hit the ice, I snatched it, and passed it to Tanger. I dashed down the ice, praying desperately that Niemi would slip up and that someone would get the puck in the net. I realized that I was in perfect position to score, and Tanger noticed at the same time because the puck flew to my stick. I swore that time stopped as the puck glided towards the net, over the desperate hand of Niemi, and collided with the back of the net so hard that Niemi’s water bottle flew off. The crowd roared, and I pumped my fist in celebration. Everything seemed so surreal.
Ten seconds left. It was smiles all around in those final ten seconds, our hearts pounding in anticipation because we knew what was coming next. It was no surprise that Sidney got the Conn Smythe, but he quickly handed it back, his eyes gleaming with joy as Gary Bettman came out with the Stanley Cup. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it, to hoist it in the air, to scream with joy. I got the Cup, celebrated, and then handed it off to Fleury, who was just as eager to get his hands on the trophy. Everything was great, and then suddenly, everything went black.
My heart was racing almost painfully in my chest. There were thirty two seconds left in the game. The Penguins were up 2-1, and the Sharks were determined to win just as much as we were. It was game seven of the Stanley Cup Final and both teams were fighting tooth and nail. I was sent onto the ice for the last shift, and I briefly looked around before the ref blew the whistle and dropped the puck. I noticed a guy in a shark suit that looked like it was gnawing on a Penguin. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. I saw Ashley give me thumbs up, and I snapped my attention back to the faceoff right as the ref put the whistle to his mouth. The puck hit the ice, I snatched it, and passed it to Tanger. I dashed down the ice, praying desperately that Niemi would slip up and that someone would get the puck in the net. I realized that I was in perfect position to score, and Tanger noticed at the same time because the puck flew to my stick. I swore that time stopped as the puck glided towards the net, over the desperate hand of Niemi, and collided with the back of the net so hard that Niemi’s water bottle flew off. The crowd roared, and I pumped my fist in celebration. Everything seemed so surreal.
Ten seconds left. It was smiles all around in those final ten seconds, our hearts pounding in anticipation because we knew what was coming next. It was no surprise that Sidney got the Conn Smythe, but he quickly handed it back, his eyes gleaming with joy as Gary Bettman came out with the Stanley Cup. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it, to hoist it in the air, to scream with joy. I got the Cup, celebrated, and then handed it off to Fleury, who was just as eager to get his hands on the trophy. Everything was great, and then suddenly, everything went black.
♠ ♠ ♠
I know that this is probably the shortest chapter on the face of the earth, but then again, I love giving cliff hangers :) I also apologize for not posting to this one in so long. Writers block for this story out the wazoo.