Only The Strongest Will Survive

“Ow! Bradley! Stop that!”
“Stop what, I didn’t do anything!”
“You are purposely kicking me under the table, I know you did!”
“That was not me!”
“I can’t take either of you anywhere.” Brad Marchand sent a small glare at his little sister Melissa from across the table as the voice of Lynn Marchand cut through the table. “You would think a twenty-two-year-old and a sixteen-year-old would finally get along.” Brad looked over at his mother with raised eyebrows.
“You’re dreaming big Mom.”

“Nothing wrong with dreaming big Bradley, you dreamed big and look where you are now.”
“Yeah, turned his agitation into a job.” Melissa muttered.
“And the fans love it.” Brad shot back causing a stern look from Mom.
“I meant that when he was five-years-old he told everyone he was going to play for the NHL and he did it! That was a big dream and it succeeded so I think my tiny dream of one day my son will stop antagonizing his sister isn’t too difficult to ask for.”
“It is.” Both Brad and Melissa said both turning and looking at each other. “JINX!”

“Ah, c’mon dear, they’re just being siblings. It’s most likely all for show you know.” Kevin Marchand commented draining his beer glass. “Let’s talk about something different. So Brad, how does it feel? First playoffs?” Melissa groaned and dropped her head into her hand. Hockey talk, it was always extremely boring cause it seemed to be the top of every conversation when visiting her brother.
“How does it feel? Eh, no different at the moment. I’m sure it’s going to change when I finally play Game 1 on home field.”
“Always knew my son was going to be a Stanley Cup Champion.” Brad smirked.
“You know I will be.”

“What’s it like to have Roxanne McGregor as a teammate?” Melissa piped up. Ever since Brad became part of the NHL, everyone at school was just in awe and made it a big deal. According to everyone he was an incredible rookie and they all wanted connections. But it really wasn’t a big deal for Melissa; he was still her annoying, antagonizing, cocky, confident, lovable older brother. But when McGregor hit the scene, it got worse. Second woman in the NHL, came out of nowhere, shocking the hockey world, and was playing on her brother’s team and Brad was best friends with her. Now everyone was dying to get connections and it was more irritating then the time Brad hit her with an electric bug zapper one summer.

Accident her ass.

“Not a big deal really, she’s always been apart of the locker room so it wasn’t a big deal when she become a teammate. It was like she was suppose to be there.” Melissa nodded her head and went back to her Coke. Dad spoke up at that moment.
“She’s an incredible player that’s for sure. Aren’t you really close with her?” Brad nodded.
“Have been since she first began working in the locker room.” Brad stared into his beer glass as his dad began to speak again.
“I think she’s the one friend we haven’t met yet. Isn’t she dating the goalie?”
“Yuuuuup.” Brad muttered into his beer glass before taking a big gulp. Unfortunately.

Brad Marchand had been able to slowly relax about Roxy’s suicide attempt and it was easier to handle. The jealousy though, was getting worse. Rask shouldn’t have gotten the second chance, what if he fucked it up again? The nagging feelings had been easy to deal with when they first started dating but ever since seeing Roxanne half dead and knowing the Rask was asking for a break (might as well have just said broken up!) that drove her to carve out her fucking arm-

Brad shook the stupid thoughts from his head and put the glass back on the table. He wanted to be the one to have comforted Roxy in more then just being her best friend and “brother” and the thought just wasn’t going away. He was doing fine today until Melissa brought her up. Idiot little sister!
“She doing anything? Some of your teammates are welcome to come.” His mother piped up.
“She’s probably banging our goalie…” He muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”

“Well I think Melissa wants to meet Roxanne it seems.” His mother stated, smiling at her daughter.
“No, I’m just curious!” Melissa said hotly and Brad raised an eyebrow.
“I smell the BS.” Melissa shot him a glare.
“Bradley…” His mom threatened.
“Hey, be proud he shortened that.” His dad said cheerfully, nudging his wife with his elbow. “Now let’s order dinner cause I’m fucking starving.”
“KEVIN!” Brad and Melissa snickered at that, both looking at each other without wanting to smack each other.

Family was another thing Brad wanted to give Roxanne. She had a broken one with just a brother and a mother who was recovering from drug abuse. He didn’t have that issue and Brad had yet to see Tuukka mention to Roxy about meeting his family anytime in the future. Another reason why he felt he was better for her then Tuukka was, Marchand had something stable.

*****

“Kiss it Hnidy, kiss it and suck on it.”

I stopped in the entrance of the Bruins locker room that day for practice at the only words I heard coming out of Thorton’s mouth.
“Thorton! Explain!” I cried out.
“He said you didn’t exist and your presence has proven him wrong so I was telling him to SUCK ON THAT! HA!” Thorton yelled, jamming a thumb at an unfamiliar face standing in the locker room.
“I’m not sucking it Thorton!” The man, Hnidy, snapped, smacking Thorton’s hand out of his face. I raised an eyebrow at the duo and scanning the room, noticing that Hnidy wasn’t the only new face in the locker room that morning.

There was another younger guy with thick brown hair sticking out everywhere and another goalie besides Timmy and Tuukka.

“Did we get new guys today?” I asked, looking at all three.
“Yup, called them up from Providence the other day.” Coach called out, walking past me and into the locker room. “And no, I didn’t trade anyone for them to be here.” He added as I opened up my mouth to ask just that.
“Oh…well! Stop reading my mind!”
“So much for Roxanne McGregor being a myth.” Thorton said to Hnidy. “She’s standing there, in the flesh, talking!”
“Shut up Thorton! I never thought I would have to play again!”
“Well guess what? You do! You have been blessed with my presence again!”

“Wait, you guys know each other?” I asked, pointing at the two bickering men.
“Yup, Anaheim in 2007. Short time. Roxy, say hello to defensemen Shane Hnidy.” I looked at the older, serious man with jet black hair.
“Heeeello Hnidy.” I said, tossing a halfhearted wave to him.
“Nice to meet you McGregor-” He said, but was cut off at the cry and stomping from the other new guy with the brown hair.
“FUCKING CARPENTER ANTS!” He roared. “Fuckers just crawled into gloves!” Marchand stared at the new guy, face contorting before bursting into laughter.
“Sucks to be you man! Ha ha!”

“At least it isn’t a spider!” I said, pulling my practice jersey on. The new guy turned and looked at me.
“I saw that whole debacle with the spider at Super Skills, girl you have issues.”
“Thanks, I don’t know who you are but I already want to check you.” I said to him.
“Finally, someone other then me!” Marchand yelled in triumph, only to turn and cry out when Boychuk slammed his large body into him and sent him into his cubby. I burst out laughing at that, the new guy following suit and the rest of the locker room snickering. The goalie I didn’t know was tilting his head and starring queerly at everything, Tuukka just giving him a shrug.

“By the way, The names Matt Bartkowski.” The kid said, holding his hand out to me and I took it.
“Nice to have you on the team Matt.”
“Hope I can make a difference for this year.” I smiled before going to grab my stick but let out an ear piercing shriek for there was a some tiny spider that dropped down out of nowhere into my face. “FUCKING A!” I picked up a foot in my skate and kicked at it, colliding with the back of my cubby. “WHY DID NOAH BRING SPIDERS ON HIS ARK!? GODDAMMIT!” Bartkowski slinked away while I put my foot now, noticing now that something didn’t feel right.

“Whoa, Roxy, what did that spider ever do to you?” Kaberle commented, smiling at the whole display.
“Exist!” The goalie I had yet to be introduced to was staring queerly at everything. “’Sup.” I said to him casually like I didn’t just dropkick my cubby.
“Um…hi?” He said, heavy accent in his words.
“Don’t worry, she’s insane, you’ll get use to it.” Tuukka said, giving me a teasing smile as I glared at him.
“Says the man who wanted to date me. So, last new guy I need to know, who are you?”

The goalie looked between both me and Tuukka before answering.
“Anton Khudobin, brought here from Minnesota Wild.”
“Nice! Welcome to the best team in the whole entire NHL! AGREED!?” Cheers of agreement erupted in the locker room. “Heavy accent proves you’re from somewhere else, where abouts?” I asked, curious.
“Kazakhstan.”

I stared bewildered.

“KAZA-WATTA!?” I yelled. “KAZAKHSTAN!? LEGIT!?”
“Um…yes?” He said timidly. I shook my head in bewilderment.
“That’s a first…that is a first…” I turned to walk before hearing a nasty snap and before I knew it my face was coming down to meet the floor. “AHH SHIT!” I hit the floor and turned to see my skate was falling apart from the kick I gave it. Tuukka started forward to help me off the floor but before he got there, a different hand shot into sight.
“That’s what you get for dropkicking your cubby.” I looked up at a smiling Marchand, grabbing his hand and got off the floor.

“Dammit…I know. WHERE’S THE EQUIPMENT GUY? GARY!!” I called out, not bothering to notice the look that past between Tuukka and Marchand.

*****

“Well guys, this is it.” Coach Julien said, walking into the locker room after a long, grueling practice. I collapsed into my cubby as Coach began to continue his talk. “One year ago we were in this same position and we were tossed out first round. You guys didn’t put the power, determination, and will into those games and you went out in an embarrassing lost. You have a second chance this year though. Make use of this second chance like it could be your last. Make right was had been wrong and go out there and take one the team and get that Cup. The Redemption Team you have been called and even the great Bobby Orr agrees with it. Don’t let any of these guys down and don’t let your fans down. Redeem the name of the Boston Bruins. Now let’s go embarrass those motherfuckers on home turf!”

We all let out a loud whoop at that! The stress was on now; the adrenaline was already pumping through our veins. This was the moment all athletes craved for.

A loud ass pop and a yell caused everyone to stop chatting and revert their attention towards Timmy’s cubby where he was on his back on the floor and staring angrily at the cubby that was now showered with confetti.
“DAMMIT! You sprung it one day too early!” Marchand cried out before getting smacked by Boychuk.
“You blew our cover! He’s going to get us now!” Tim Thomas slowly rolled over and got up, starring down Bergeron, Boychuk, and Marchand and a Seguin who was trying to whistle innocently. Timmy crossing his arms, Marchand was the first one too speak.

“Happy early BIRTHDAAAY!” He said with cheer.
“Three years closer to fooooooorty.” Boychuk teased, arms out as if he was going in for a hug.
“What’s wrong with forty.” Recchi called out.
“Nothing! That’s why we’re trying to give Timmy extra birthday cheer!” Tim Thomas started to march toward the trio after Seguin’s announcement. “FUCK! THE TANK IS COMING!”
“RUN, RUN, RUN!” Marchand yelled and the four guys ran out of the locker room followed by Timmy.
“Don’t they remember that Thomas hates when shit pops out at him?” Thorton muttered, watching the doors swinging.
“Yeah, why did you think they did just that?” Ference said.

Marchand soon emerged back into the room as if he was sneaking past a Berserker in Gears of War.
“You would think people would be happy for birthday surprises! Wait till he sees our present!”
“I think I’ll be absent for that tomorrow.” McQuiad said. Everyone muttered agreements as we all got dressed and headed out to relax for a bit for the start of the first Playoff game at 8 that night. I had yet to begin getting undressed for I felt it almost…wrong, to leave just yet. The room was empty and those who were still there were in the showers getting the sweat off their bodies.

I took this opportunity to get up and head out to the rink, grabbing my stick and a bag of pucks, no one noticing I was heading out there. I walked out into the open air of the rink and looked up at the thousands of seats surrounding me, waiting to fill up with ecstatic fans there too cheer on their team and favorite players. I stepped out onto the ice and skated around, fucking up the beautiful job of the Zamboni driver. I got to neutral ice and kneeled down, leaning on my stick.

I would be lying if I said I was calm and cool about tonight. In fact, I was the complete opposite, it was the first playoff game I was to play in and as everyone knows: expectations for you and your team rise up. My stomach was in knots and my head was spinning like crazy over the sheer insanity of it all. Well Dad, I’m here…tonight is the first game of many towards the most important trophy in all of hockey and sports. I snatched the bag of pucks and dumped some of them out. I couldn’t quite my practicing just yet. I needed to be more then just good to be Stanley Cup worthy. I had to be the best. I had to be dangerous.

“Sometimes I feel alone in a million crowd, an outsider, wandering alone without, any words to say, they can't explain, this power to overcome the pain, feel the breath that's always getting away, am I dreaming it all? I will never be afraid…”

I hit the puck in front of me with all the power that I had, reminiscent of Super Skills. Damn, that felt like ages ago, almost years. Look where we had come to since then.

“I'll survive in this nothing, leading nowhere, I'll survive, feeling stronger, for how much longer? I'll survive in this nothing, leading nowhere, I'll survive, survive…”

“You really think you could sneak out here and no one would notice?” I stopped short of shooting another puck at that voice, turning around to find Mark Recchi leaning against the edge of the bench, fully dressed. I let the hold on my stick slack, sighing.
“Everything is okay, if you’re worried.” I said.
“I don’t think everything is Roxy.” I skated over to the bench and put my stick on top of it, leaning against the bench and looking at Recchi.
“Is it natural to feel anxious and scared for the playoffs? Almost as if you’re afraid of it and what your fans will think of your performance? I don’t want to let any of them down.”

Recchi gave me a warm smile.

“That’s nothing new or to be ashamed of. It happens to everyone, even the best of people.” He stared off into the arena, as if imagining the past was opening up before him. “I was in your same shoes twenty years ago when I went to my first playoff year in the NHL. It was with Pittsburgh and it was pretty frightening. I was twenty-three but it was my first year of ever playing in the NHL. I was just a rookie starting out and learning the ropes and before I knew it, I’m in the middle of the Stanley Cup Playoffs with more pressure to do better then ever before. It was nerve wracking.” Recchi sat down on the bench and continued his story. “But I had my team there beside me, I had veterans there to give me pointers, and I had my Coaches to help me through it all and in the end I raised my first Stanley Cup my rookie year.”

I smiled, hand rubbing along the handle of my hockey stick. Lifting the Stanley Cup your rookie year, that would incredible. Something you would always remember and think back on and can’t help but smile.
“I would like to be able to manage to do that.”
“Wouldn’t everyone. But see? Everyone has the same anxiety and being a rookie doesn’t help but let that story help you. You’ve seen Brad, nothing seems to faze the kid but he’s struggling with the pressure inside. I see it; he uses his agitation and joking to cover it up. Talk to others too, like Thomas. They’ve all been there before and they’ll help you get through it on top of your game.”

“Thank you Recchi.” I said. “You’re one of the finest players this league has, your name is going to be remembered.”
“I have no doubt about it. Roxy?”
“Yeah?” I said, giving him my full attention.
“Don’t let these games that stand before you be taken for granted. Enjoy every minute, every second. They’re a special kind of hockey and no matter what happens or what the outcome of a game is, they aren’t to be wasted. Leave and enter every game with a smile and the fans will not be let down.” I bit my lip, my heart nearly bursting at Recchi’s words. This man had some wisdom about him, the years of hockey showing up well through the way he played and the way he helped his fellow teammates.

He was right.

Nothing was to be wasted these next months no matter what happened. I was given these days that I gambled away back and I was to not waste it. Never waste it.
“Thanks Recchi, thanks for helping me. And thank you for saving my life and giving me the chance to be standing here to be able to feel what it is like to see a playoff game.”
“It’s nothing Roxanne. I did what I knew was right and it makes me feel better to see you standing here healing.” He got up and hugged me tightly and I returned it. “It’ll help put me at ease to know you’ll be fine when I leave.” I loosened the hug and stepped back, looking at the solemn face of Mark Recchi.

“Leave?” I asked. Recchi nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry Roxy, but the inevitable has finally come. I’m forty-three years old and while I am still in my prime, it’s not going to last much longer and I rather go out on top then suffering an injury.” Recchi shoved his hands into his pockets. “This is the first season I ever got to play with you and sadly…it’s going to be the last. I’m retiring after our last game.” I stared at Recchi, dumbfounded.

Retirement.

The thought never, ever crossed my mind ever when I looked at all my favorite players and saw how they played. I never thought I would ever see a hockey game without Mark Recchi, my adoptive father, the man who gave me words of wisdom whenever I was down and the man who saved my life. Now reality had become clear again and like all good things, they were coming to an end.
“You’ll…still be around though, right?” I asked.
“I should be unless this stadium is sick of my face.”
“I don’t think it ever will.”

*****

It was finally the moment everyone had been waiting for. Standing in line behind Krejci, I held my head up and put the smile that Recchi said I needed to have on my face.

I’ve been walking this road of desire,
I've been begging for blood on the wall, 

I don't care if I'm playing with fire, 

I'm aware that I'm frozen inside,


I have known all along, 



So much more going on,
No denying, 

But I know I'm not standing alone



The stadium was rumbling with the screams and storming of Bruins fans packing into a sold out stadium as the light show and opening video began to play and In The Middle of the Night by Within Temptation blasting hardcore out of the speakers.

In the middle of the night



No more tears,
No, 'cause nothing else matters

I've been closing my eyes for too long.


Only vengeance will make me feel better.

There's no rest till I know that it's done.

“You hear that guys? Begging for blood on the wall? No rest till I know that it’s done? Let’s go fuck up Montreal!” Lucic cried out.
“You would be begging for blood on the walls.” Tim Thomas stated to him and Lucic shoved his helmet before started to walk out to the stadium.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET ME ANNOUNCE TO YOU YOUR STARTING LINEUP! IN GOAL, NUMBER 30, TIM THOOOOOMAS!” I shuffled onto the bench with my lineup, not being the first one out there tonight.

Montreal got a welcome of boos and shouts from our loyal fans, making me smile and slowly settle my rattling nerves and twisted stomach. Leaning on my stick and burying into my gloved hands, I let my head fill with the Canadian and American national anthems, remembering what Recchi told me earlier. No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, go out there with a smile. I heard tapping on the Plexiglas next to me and I ignored all the shit I had been told about not acknowledging fans when on the bench. Fuck that, this was the playoffs and I wanted to show the fans some appreciation!

I saw out of the corner of my eyes two 10-year-old girls with a sign that said DEFEAT THE HABS, MICKY! It made me smile at the adorableness and I quickly gave the girls a wink before reverting my attention back to the ice where the puck drop was about to happen. We got this guys. The puck dropped and the battle was on, the stadium beginning to quiet down as the action began to unfold.

The Canadiens soon over powered up and got the puck deep within our zone. I watched at Kablerle tried to chuck it out of the zone. The puck was soon picked up by Darche and was sent across the ice to Gionta. Bergeron reached his stick in to try and stop it and miss and Gionto got the cross ice and chucked it-

Into the back of the net.

Everyone groaned and poor Timmy looked behind himself and saw the puck there and dejectedly rose to his skates, looking ashamed of himself. We all glared at the celebrating Canadiens and tried to collect ourselves. We still had over two periods to go it didn’t matter. I finally was called out onto the ice and I jumped right into the action, trying to act like it was just any other game against the Canadiens and nothing mattered. Play cool, play cool, play cool. I scooped a pass up from Ryder who was about to jump on the bench and allow Lucic into the action. I sneaked around Moen only to be met with a nasty check from Subban, smashing up against the glass and my puck being taken away by Gomez.

The TD booed at the change and I shoved Subban back hard as I could in anger. Damn prick! I then saw Lucic plow over Gomez, the standing roaring in approval and everyone crying out LOOOOOOOCH! Boychuk had seized the forgotten puck and chucked it up ice where I gladly took the past and snuck around Subban and darted to the goal.

I had a breakaway.

The TD exploded with excitement, waiting for me to score on Price but before I could take my shot, when I suddenly got rammed on the side and I flew down and hit the ice on my face and slid into the side of the rink, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. I heard the whistle blow and I got up on my hands and knees and stared at the ice slightly dazed at the hit and soon heard a voice call to me.
“Yo, Roxy, you good?” I got off my hands and was kneeling and shook my head, looking up at Boychuk. My head was way clearer and I could see everything better and what just happened sunk it, seeing Hamrilk being put in the penalty box.
“We’re good Boychuk!” I called out and giving a thumbs up to the bench and getting onto my skates for the puck drop.

Boy, was I going to be feeling this game tomorrow.

We ended the first period completely scoreless, Montreal still having the lead and we burst out into the second period with the ferocity needed to start hammering goals on Price. Both Carey and Timmy seemed to be on edge about having this tremendous burden on their shoulders but the blocks and saves were proving that despite all, they were more capable then ever. Timmy had our backs and we repaid that by keeping unwanted attention away!

I had three more scoring chances but Price caught them all. I was soon sent to the box after for goalie interference but really, I didn’t mean it! I had snatched a pass from Kaberle in defense and I went to shoot but got smothered by defense and passed it over to Seguin before skating into Price as he went to catch Seguin’s shot, the puck going PING off the pole and hitting me in the shoulder as I stumbled over Price.
“WHOA!” I cried out, falling nearly on top of the guy and the ref blowing his whistle and trying to dissect me from all the Habs holding me by my collar.

My timer ran out and I jumped, eagerly, back into the action for sitting around with adrenaline and anxiety did shit and only made you more uptight and ready to do some damage! I started to gun towards the puck but I wasn’t the only one. Max Pacioretty was at it too and was overpowering me with speed. I summoned all the nerves into one emotion and that was to check the shit out of him. I didn’t even bother to see where we were heading though as I turned my body towards the puck but continued to glide towards the forward and checked the kid hard into what I thought was the wall but I was wrong.

I just sent the hardest check I ever summoned into the kid and crushed him into the corner of the Bruins bench and the reporters box.

The slam that went with it was loud and I felt the kid go dead weight next to me as I scooped up the puck. I then got slammed into the edge of my own bench by a Canadien I couldn’t indentified and he held down in anger, making me freak more over the memories it dredged up then the fact that Pacioretty was face first and not moving.
“YOU FUCKING SLUT!” I recognized the voice of Gionta bark at me before I got a chunk of my team on top of Gionta and pulling him off me and relieving my back from its painful pinned position. Lucic held Gionta back, glaring at him as the medical team was over the bench faster then you could have imagined and were trying to coax Max to wake up.

Oh god…what have I just done?

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see it was a solemn looking Recchi, nodding his head at me as if to tell me to stay calm. But how could I stay calm when the medic team were muttering about possible broken neck!? I skated over gently and got down on the ice next to the medic team before I even knew what I had done.
“Max! Kid! Wake up! Shit, wake up!” I called. “Goddammit, don’t tell I fucked up your career!” All the Canadiens were hanging over the bench in anxiety over the sight of their unmoving teammate. I got a hand on my shoulder, pulling me up, and it revealed to be the ref.
“C’mon McGregor, you have a major your going to be serving.” A major!? For what!? For checking!? But the anger over that didn’t even sink in for I was still upset and shaken over what I had just done to Max Pacioretty. I was pulled off the ice and sent to the box, many of my teammates coming over to chat with the other ref over what just went about.

I stumbled into the penalty box in a daze, collapsing onto the bench and letting my back slam into back of the bench and looked up at the scoreboard. 15 seconds left and a 5:00 penalty for myself came up on it. I then stared back to see the medical team had brought out the stretcher and were trying to get him onto it without fucking him up even more. Carey Price, the man I hadn’t talked too see he saved me from Jake, looked over at me with as solemn as en expression as I had on. That sent my stomach dropping even more, my rattled, stressed out, anxious brain thinking that absolute worst.

Power. It was a good trait to have in the sport of hockey but if not used correctly, it was deadly. A little bit of wisdom that should have been common sense but I just didn’t think about it really till now.

Till my power proved to be deadly.

*****

I was allowed back into the game, the major being scratched off but in the end, we still went scoreless against Carey Price and we left, dejected and defeated, off the ice. We all solemnly went into the locker room and didn’t speak, me as silent as a mouse still freaking out over Max. Shit, how was he doing? I had to go and see the kid, seriously, and apologize. It was the right thing to do and I wanted to do it. Coach paced around, quiet, as we all sadly ripped off our equipment. We felt shamed to have been shut out on home turf by our rival and it wasn’t sitting in well with any of us.

“I know you’re feeling the hit. We all are and we don’t like it one bit. But you know what? It wasn’t a horrible loss you know why? Cause you hammered them with all the power you had. You didn’t quit even when the timer said one minute remaining. You out shot them by 11 shots on goal and Tim?” Thomas looked up meekly from his melancholy position. “You stopped a shit load of goals and the ones that went in were just pure luck. You stopped the impossible ones and the only goals happened in the very beginning…and the very end. You held yourself high through the entire thing and that’s what I like to see.” Coach Julien looked at everyone. “It’s what I like in all of you. Your ability to not give up. We gave Montreal a confidence boost and it’s gotten in their head. Keep playing like you have been and they’ll fall next time.”

Coach walked away, leaving us to ourselves to ponder over his speech. I stared at the floor, sighing heavily thinking about what happened in the course of this game. Smile, no matter the outcome. How could I smile when my actions could have ended the career of someone just starting out like me?