Only The Strongest Will Survive

I quickly poked my stick out as far as it could go, trying to snatch the puck out of Gionta’s control. I was soon met with a hard check by Wisniewski though, grunting at the impact on the glass and my momentum completely stalled. I shoved the defenseman off of me and pushed on my skates to back up my team.

It was third period of game 6 and my team and I had finally pushed ourselves into the lead in this series. It was now 2-3 and we only needed one more game to win and that game was tonight. The clock was ticking down to the end of regulation and it was still 1-1 on the board. We had to score now. I wanted this series to end.

I slammed into Travis Moen, hoping to stop him from shooting, but he had quickly taken a pass to Cammalleri who shot it towards Timmy. I rolled off of the swearing Moen and quickly got up on my skates to see that Kaberle had done a dive in front of the puck, stopping it and thankfully being taken up by one of our guys. I cringed at the impact though, that had to have hurt. Way to take one for the team Kabby! Pushing up from the ice, I started after only to get checked down by Cammalleri again, meeting the ice with my face.

Then I heard the goal horn.

I lifted my head dejectedly to see all the Canadien’s in a big pile after the goal that was just scored. I had a hand in my face and I looked up to see it was Kaberle, offering his hand with a dismal look on his face. I took it and looked up at the timer to see there was only a minute left. I angrily skated to the bench for a line change for the last minute, grumpy. We were suppose to end the series now but we instead pushed a Game 7.

It was the same situation last year…we had it and then we completely lost it. Everyone’s mind seemed to be thinking the same thing. History better not repeat itself.

*****

I sat in my brother’s living room the next day before the final game, nursing a beer in my hand as Ben took his seat opposite of where I was, my mother sitting down on the couch next to me.
“Doesn’t matter that you guys lost the last one. You have the potential to get the last one! I saw your determination! The Canadiens are just getting cheap shots.” I smiled at my brother’s uplifting.
“Thanks Ben, I know what you mean. It’s tough though. Tough as hell.”
“I bet it is.”

My mom patted my knee, giving me a warming smile.
“I still can’t believe it that my own daughter is in the NHL. I mean, I can’t get over it every time I watch you play on TV!” I smiled at my mom. “You’re your father’s daughter through and through. And that alone tells me you’ll be able to truly get through this series. I’m proud of you Roxy, for getting this far.”
“Thanks Mom. You guys excited for tonight’s game?” My brother burst into a huge smile.
“You kidding me!? Never been to a Stanley Cup final game! Thank god for free tickets! Got the best freaking sister ever.”

“I’m certainly looking forward to this. I know you’re father is too.” My mom said, before pointing at the beer in my hand. “That’s not a stupid choice, is it?” I laughed.
“Mom, I’m Irish. Got a liver of steel. One beer wont do shit except maybe give a confidence boost.”
“Honey, I’d appreciate it if you had better language.” I smirked.
“Sorry Mom, I’m used to being around hockey players.”
“And me” My brother said, laughing at the look Mom gave him. I finished off my beer before getting up, noticing the time.

“I have to get going, see you all there for hopefully Canadien ass kicking?”
“ROXY!”
“MOM!”
“Not, hope, will! You will be doing some Canadien ass kicking!” Ben called out.
“BENJAMIN!”
“MOTHER!” I died laughing, high fiving my brother and hugging my mom goodbye, heading out of the building, feeling lively in my steps. It was the first time I was able to sit down with my family in who knows how long and how ever short it was, I enjoyed every minute of it. Thank god I was able to see through to my mother. I finally had my family back.

“Well if it isn’t the famous Roxanne McGregor.” I stopped at the voice, turning to see Ms. Flanagan holding a cat I hadn’t seen before in her arms. I gave a big smile.
“Hi Ms. Flana- I mean Dolores.” I said, walking over and giving her a hug, the grey cat meowing hysterically for it was squashed between me and Dolores.
“Good to see you dear, how have you been? Chaos most likely, Stanley Cup Finals! How does it feel!?” I pulled away from the hug and shrugged.
“It’s different that’s for sure! Stressful and…all of that but it’s a once in a lifetime situation.”

“That it is.” Dolores said, patting my cheek. “I expect to see you holding that Stanley Cup, okay?” I smiled.
“I wont let you down Dolores.”
“I know you wont. Now, you look like you have a place to be, so I’ll let you on your way.” She positioned her cat in her arms better before continuing. “Me and my elderly friends are going to be there tonight, watching.” I looked at her in surprise.
“Really? I wont let it be a disappointment for you!”
“No you wont.” I then pointed to the cat.

“Is…he new?” Ms. Flanagan nodded.
“Yup! Got him the other day at the pound. Poor thing was all alone and crying at me, I just had to take him home. His name is Esposito.” Of couuuurse…I giggled a little at that, petting the cat’s meowing head.
“Fitting. Now Bobby Orr isn’t alone. And neither is Poike.”
“No they are not.” I said goodbye to the crazy cat lady before heading down to the fifth floor, having one more business left to attend to. I knocked on a door that had become slightly familiar over the months. The door slowly opened to reveal a middle age woman who soon started to beam, fully opening up the door.

“Roxanne! This is a pleasant surprise!” I smiled as I walked into the apartment fully, giving the woman a hug.
“Hello Ms. Galigar. I hope everything is doing well?” Ms. Galigar, the mother of Jordan, nodded enthusiastically. “Better then well! You wont believe the good news I have.” I looked at her.
“What is it?”
“Thanks to you helping out, Jordan’s treatments have been more then successful. He should be cancer free by the end of the year AND the boy has been able to get back to skating again!” My mouth dropped open.

“Jordan is back playing hockey?” his mother nodded her head, tears seem to be forming in her eyes. “That’s fantastic! I’m so glad to hear that!” I was then crushed into a bone crushing hug.
“It’s all thanks to you Miss McGregor. Thank you for everything.” I hugged the woman back, feeling tears coming to my own eyes.
“It was the least I could do to a big fan like Jordan.” I then heard the sounds of guns shooting in the room I knew was Jordan’s.

“He’s playing Call of Duty right now with a couple friends. Feel free to pop in.” I looked at Ms. Galigar.
“I’m doing more then popping in. Tonight is the final game of the Canadiens vs Bruins series. Any die hard Bruins fan would love to be at this game. Why can’t Jordan?” She gave a huge smile.
“It would make his day.”

And made his day it did, the cry that resonated out of the room was so loud I’m pretty sure it broke the sound waves.

*****

“This is home turf, you have a thousand screaming fans, you have only one chance, go out there and take this god damn or so help me god I will skate you till you wish you never joined the NHL!”

Coach’s uplifting speech that night. I think it does justice, don’t you think?

The puck had dropped and the entire Garden was almost silent, everyone paying attention to the ice as the Bergeron line began to take control with Chara and Boychuk. The fight was intense for the puck and I felt my adrenaline making me itching to head out there. The line change was coming and I looked over and Lucic and then Seguin and we all nodded our heads and jumped over the bench, ready to rain hell down on the Canadiens.

I got up ahead, able to steal a pass and snaked around the goal with it, Subban hot on my heels and I passed it up to Seguin who took a shot but was quickly blocked by Carey.

But there was a rebound.

I saw the rebound and before I could think, I had rocketed the puck as hard as I could at the goal, it sailing through the bodies and over Carey’s glove-

And the goal horn started blaring and the roar that echoed through the TD made me go deaf and I couldn’t hear my own thoughts or scream! As our goal song began to play, I jumped into the arms of Lucic and Seguin, Kaberle and Kampfer following suit. We were up 1-0 and the game has just started. It was time to keep it like that. It wasn’t long after that dear Mark Recchi used his old man powers and rocketed our score up to 2-0, the crowd going wild again. When the man made his way onto the bench, I crushed him into a hug.

“We’ve got this game guys!”

Our momentum ended though when I got a penalty due to tripping and was sent to the box, forced to watch my team struggle to hold back the Canadiens and I sacked my stick hard on the door of the box when Weber got a shot into the goal. My time was finally up and I hit the ice, ready to get back our breathing room. Together with Paille and Campbell, we hammered the Canadien goal but just couldn’t stick it in and before I knew it, the goal horn sounded and I reluctantly tromped my way back to the locker room.

Second period started up and it was awhile before I felt the ice again under my skates. I got out onto the ice and was helping defending our area, hoping to steal the puck. I watched as Subban made a feint, but I saw through it and dug my skates into the ice, pushing towards where the pass was going to be. I made a mistake though, for his pass was a high one.

Before I knew what had happened, I was on my back on the ice, clutching the right side of my face where I felt the intense pain of where the puck struck me in the face. The crowd had almost gone silent and I saw many were on their feet. The pain was excruciating and I soon felt a hand on my shoulder.
“McGregor, you good?” I looked up dazed at one of our medic staff and pulled my hand away to find it covered in blood.
“Not exactly!”
“Shit, the puck broke the skin open next to your eye. Got to get you stitched up and checked for concussions.” I growled at the thought of having to get off the ice, getting onto my feet and skating to the bench where Tuukka had a gloved hand on my shoulder.

“That looks horrible! You going to be okay!?” I nodded at him.
“I will be, once they stitch me up, I’m coming right back out.” I then disappeared into the room, knowing many people were wondering if I was going to come back out. I remember watching games like this and thinking the same thing when a player was taken out. Will they come back? But my fans had no worry, I was going to come back even if it killed me! Lying down as I got stitched up and screened, I could hear the game going on outside and it was making me antsy.

“Canadiens scored another goal.” I groaned at those words spoken to one of the medics. We had lost our lead and it was now tied. I needed to get my ass back out there!
“Well, looks like you have no concu-”
“Good!” I cried, lunging up from my lying position and began to get off the bench. “I’m getting back out there then!”
“You sure? You have a gaping hole on the side of your head and if you rip-”
“Fuck these stitches! It’s game 7 and every Bruin is needed! No way I am missing out on a Stanley Cup game!” I then blew past the medics and towards the arena, hearing the cheers from the stadium and grabbing another one of my sticks on the way out.

“I’M BACK!” I cried, running back out and shoving Boychuk aside on the bench, causing him to cry out in surprise and fall forward. Tuukka jumped at my outcry and had to catch himself from falling off the goalie seat and Couch Houda accidentally tossed his clipboard into the glass in shock. “Oh, sorry Boychuk! Tuukka! Houda!” I said, noticing the scene I made. I then noticed many fans were cheering at my return and I turned around and fist pumped the air, making a war cry to them.

“Cooouch…you might want to send Roxy in now before she ends up shredding the bench in anxiety.” Marchand called to Julien, looking at the scene. Julien sighed.
“Someone tell Miss. Frankenstein that she’s going out next.”
“HEY!” I screamed at that nicknamed.

*****

3rd period had to be the worst experience of my life. I had scored my second goal that night, getting us back up into the lead but that god damn prick PK Subban scored with 2 minutes left! I screamed in frustration when I saw that, knowing that we were going to go into Overtime.
“Hey Roxy.” I looked over at Mark Recchi who nudged my shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got this game. This is your moment to shine.” I looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“With your power and the fact that you are going absolute bonkers right now is showing that you’ve got what it takes to score the winning goal. Get that hat trick.”

With that, he got over the edge of the bench and skated out to join his line for the puck drop. You’ve got what it takes. I looked up into the crowd, not seeing but knowing that my mother, my brother, Ms. Flanagan, her friends, Jordan and his mother were all up there looking down and waiting for me to do something. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and let it out, opening again with a whole new feel of determination.

I wanted the honors of that goal and I was going to go and get it.

Six minutes ticked down and I found myself back on the ice. I skated with full throttle, finding speed that I didn’t know I had and I sent a good, hard check into Weber, stealing the puck he had and sending it off to Lucic who sent it up to Seguin. I pushed off again and got into position, fending off Wisniewski with my stick and finally getting fed up and fell behind him, snatching a pass from Lucic and suddenly…I felt like I was back at the Super Skills doing the hardest shot contest. It was like slow motion as I pulled my stick back and slammed that puck the hardest I can remember, watching it fly so far and-

The goal horn went off and I screamed in victory, tears pouring out of my eyes as all my teammates were throwing their sticks and gloves off and jumping onto me. I saw hats flying from the stands and onto the ice, all around the Canadiens as they just dropped to their knees in defeat.

It was over.

We were moving on and I had gotten my hat trick and scored the winning goal.
“I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU ROXANNE!” I heard Recchi roared as I charged over and tackled the old man into a hug.
“AND I DID!” I pulled away and skated over to Boychuk and Timmy, shoving the defensemen off the fantasical goalie and hugging him myself.
“WE DID IT TIMMY!”
“YOU DID IT, ROXY!”
“BULLSHIT, IF WE DIDN’T HAVE YOU WE WOULD BE SCREWED!” I then let go off him and tackled Boychuk. I then saw my boyfriend beaming at me after coming out of a hug from Bergeron and I charged him, jumping into his arms as he twirled me around.

“Don’t give up hockey Roxanne. You were meant to be here.” He said into my ear as he placed me down. I let go a little and looked up at him.
“I won’t. I know it’s where I belong. It was a dream I never knew I had.” He leaned down and kissed me hard, the TD roaring all around us and the rest of the team jumping into our pile. I then was able to pull away from everyone and noticing Carey Price, helmet up and looking dejected but still had a tiny smile of congratulations aimed at me. I then looked at my team.
“Handshakes, we have to do them now.” We all broke apart and headed towards the bench, the Canadiens all getting up, seeing what was coming.

We went down the land, each giving polite words to each other and some even saying more and giving some of my teammates hugs. I soon got to Carey and looked at the guy.
“Sorry man.” He laughed.
“Nothing to be sorry about. You’ve got talent and I don’t think even the best goalie would have been able to stop that shot. You did great.” I hugged the man and he hugged back, both of us breaking apart.
“Thanks Carey. You were fantastic too.”
“Go on and win Roxy.”
“I will Carey.”

I then headed towards the bench, smile permanently etched on my face. I then felt a weird dripping feeling and I touched the side of my face, pulling away to see blood coming out. Shit…the stitches…I forgot about them. I quickly started towards the locker room, high fiving all the people I could before disappearing, needing my stitches replaced.

“Of all the goals I have seen, that one was beautiful and will go down in Bruins history.”

I stopped at that voice and turned to see Bobby Orr standing there with a large smile on his face.
“Orr!” I cried out.
“Hey there Roxy, see you’ve got problems though.” I looked at the blood on my hand and shrugged.
“It’s worth it after what just happened.” Orr smiled.
“I agree. And I don’t want to be a downer…but something has come up.” I looked at the Bruins legend.
“What is it?” Orr let out a big sigh.

“Tomorrow is the final trial between Erika Harper and Sean Morrison. We have to act now or nothing will happen and all we worked for will fail. Roxy, I know who I have brought wont bring up pleasant memories, or so she has said, but she pleads that you listen to her. And I agree, she has the missing piece we have been needing.” I looked at Orr, confused and stomach twisting and turning.
“Who…who is it?” Orr moved aside to reveal a tall, slender brown haired figure that took me a bit to recognize before I gasped out in shock.

Amanda Brooke, my old roommate and the girl who betrayed me, was standing before me.