A Goalie Kind of Girl

There she was again. She was sitting cross-legged on the players’ bench, watching us practice before our game against the Rangers. I saw her smile and shout words of encouragement or critique to nearly every player on the ice, her wavy brown hair wobbling as she yelled.

The exception to her encouragement was me. I didn’t even know her name, but being left out made me a little depressed and a little bit more reserved than usual. Maybe she just wasn’t a goalie kind of girl, just like every other girl.

“Ennis! Look up when you’ve got the puck!” she exclaimed, earning a nod from Coach. She obviously knew what she was talking about. I admired her passion for the game from my position in net, and I’d have bet that you could’ve seen my grin through my helmet.

Throughout our little scrimmage, I kept looking back at the bench, back at her. Yeah, she was pretty - her hair framed her face well and her simple “jeans and a t-shirt” style looked very nice. It wasn’t just appearances that made me keep glancing back though, it was an expectation of recognition, to hear something from her. I wanted to be corrected when I did something wrong, and vice versa.

The puck sailed above my glove and right to the back of the net with a thud. Even though it wasn’t a real game, I was disappointed in myself because I knew I would be starting a real game in a matter of hours. I had to be on top of my game. When I glanced back at the bench, I saw her scowl for a brief second before she spoke.

“Eyes on the puck! If you don’t see the puck, Enroth, you won’t catch it. Show me you deserve to start in net tonight. I know you have to, but should you? Show me you deserve this.”

Her words stung a bit. Should I start? What kind of a question was that? Of course I should; I’d been working towards this game all of my life. Not to mention being on the opposite end of the ice as my hero, Henrik Lundqvist; playing this game was something I held dear to me, and I don’t believe anyone but a true athlete can really understand what it means to meet your hero, your inspiration, in a competition.

Coach Ruff gave her a scrutinizing look, a lopsided frown on his slightly grizzled face. “That’s a little harsh, Elizabeth,” he said evenly.

So that was her name - Elizabeth. Her calculating expression softened a bit, and she even smiled. “I’m just trying to help, Coach. I want him to be the best he can be when we’re out there tonight, and I thought it would help.”

Coach didn’t answer her and our scrimmage resumed. As I minded my patch of ice by the net, I couldn’t help but notice that a pair of observing eyes was watching me closely. It made me feel uncomfortable - I’d never been one for an audience - but if I had to perform for someone, perform I would.



Elizabeth gave the team a pre-game pep talk just before we hit the ice. “Now I want a consistent game from all of you,” she said, giving each of us a small grin. I hadn’t noticed until she was standing in front of us all, but she was very tiny, almost unnaturally so. Shaking myself from the thought with a shake of my head, I heard her continue to talk.

“Play your hearts out, boys. Show them you’re going to make it to the playoffs this year, okay?” she finished. As we headed on to the ice, everyone nodded to her in acknowledgement, including me. Now was our time, time to prove all those people wrong, the ones who’d said we wouldn’t make it this year.

To be honest, I was nervous when the game started. What if I let everyone down? That question beat in me like a drum for the first few minutes, and I was thankful that I wasn’t berated at the net early on. I probably would have let in a couple goals. Fortunately, I didn’t. Simple: I didn’t.



After the first period, I stood by the bench, thinking of how I could improve my game, of all the things that could have been on my mind. I was a bit stressed, so I immediately realized that I needed to calm down a bit if we were going to win.

But one thought kept running through my head and I just couldn’t calm down. Who was she? Yes, I was part of the team, and yes, I knew she seemed to come to most of the practices. She seemed to know everyone but me, and I knew everyone but her.



I attempted to leave my thoughts behind me for the second period. I think it worked pretty well, seeing as I stopped the shots that came my way. Plus, on the power play, Tim Connolly scored the first goal of the game, leaving me in a celebratory mood.

The third period was the same as the first, except for the fact that I had actually calmed down a bit. Nobody scored for either team, and as the horn sounded at the end of the game, we celebrated.

Then something finally clicked in my mind: my first shutout. They hadn’t scored on me, not once. When I’d realized that, I could’ve sworn my grin stretched so far it was halfway to China, or maybe Sweden, my mother country.

I looked over towards the bench, where Elizabeth was standing, and she gave me a smile and a thumbs-up. “You did it! I’m so proud of you!” she yelled, and when I skated over to the bench, she hurried forward and hugged me. I was a bit surprised, honestly.

“Um, thanks,” I said, a little embarrassed. She let go of me, and I headed down to the locker room as confused as ever.



This team is a bunch of idiots. Funny, completely awesome idiots, but idiots all the same. Perhaps there’s a better word to describe my teammates, but I don’t think so.

They kept taking each other’s hats. And singing - horribly, I might add. I tried not to pay attention to them.

“Good God, who is she?” I asked myself quietly as I attempted to tune out the noises from the grown five-year-olds behind me. “Who is she?” Someone heard me, though I have no idea how they could have.

“Who’s who?” Tyler Ennis asked curiously.

“Her,” was all I answered with, gesturing at general area where she might be - as in somewhere around the arena.

“Liz?” he asked. I nodded absentmindedly. Tyler smiled and kept talking. “She’s my best friend. We went to school together and she absolutely loves hockey and lots of other sports. I thought she’d like coming to practices, so here she is!”

I chuckled a bit at how enthusiastic he sounded. “And why wasn’t I told that your best friend was coming to practices?”

“‘Cause you were in Portland when she started coming.” That was enough of an answer for me. I nodded, lost in thought. Then I realized what I had to do.



“Elizabeth!” I called as I hurried down a hallway, my voice coming out a little softer than I thought it would. “Wait!”

She turned around, surprise evident on her face. Her eyebrows traveled up her forehead in confusion. “Um, hi Jhonas,” she said, and it was my turn to be surprised. She had actually used my name - I’m such a naive person. “What’s the hurry?”

I glanced around nervously for a second before regaining what little composure I had. “I just…wanted to say something, I guess,” I replied. This was not going like I’d planned. Not that I’d planned anything - it was all on a whim.

“Then talk,” Elizabeth said with a smile, crossing her arms and waiting for whatever it was I was supposed to say.

I thought for a second, but there were only a few definite words in my head, and they took the form of a question. “Why are you so harsh sometimes?”

She paused, a small frown on her face. “Sometimes, I – I just think that being blunt helps. It…pushes you to work a little harder, work to be your best.”

I didn’t really pay much attention to what she’d said. I’d only asked her that because…well, I don’t know why. But with that little question, I had gained the courage to ask the one question that had actually been nagging at the very back of my mind the entire time.

“Hey, umm, there’s actually something else I wanted to ask,” I said, panicking in my mind. She nodded at me as I tried to compose myself. I took a steadying breath before I kept talking, just as flustered as I had been seconds before.

“Do you, uh, want to go out sometime – get to know each other a little better?” I tried to manage a grin, but I don’t know if it worked. All the same, Elizabeth smiled and nodded.

“Of course,” she said in a chipper voice. “I like to think of myself as a goalie kind of girl.” She smirked as she spoke and I couldn’t help but laugh.

A goalie kind of girl… I thought. I could definitely get used to that.