Courageous

The next morning, everyone on both teams were notified that the game was going to be pushed back in order to get better weather. Which had messed with my pregame routine, I didn’t want to wait I wanted to get this thing over with. It had been hanging around for a month because of HBO and I was ready to see it all go away. But none of the pomp and circumstance could take away from the fact that a win tonight would push us a top of the Atlantic Division. In fact, it only exalted it even more.

The guys and I arrived at the stadium just before one. To my surprise, I found that the equipment managers were getting Marc’s jersey ready which meant that the blond bomber from Thunder Bay would be playing in today’s game with us for the first time in eight months. So I congratulated him with a punch to the shoulder and a smile as I walked past him towards my cubby for the day.

Pulling my gear on, I heard Dan Girardi state that there was nothing better than the Winter Classic and I couldn’t disagree with him more. A Stanley Cup, there was absolutely nothing better than that. The Winter Classic didn’t even touch the Cup as far as I was concerned. But then again, games outside had lost some of their excitement for me after having the opportunity to play in four of them back in Boston. Games like this were more for the fans than anyone else and I believe that Rangers fans deserved it more than anyone else’s fans in the league. But it was still an honor to take part in the NHL’s fifth annual Winter Classic.

Just before game time, Torts came into give us a run down of the game plan and reminded us of things that we needed to do in order to win. It was fairly simple. Mostly, finish our checks and stay disciplined. Coach also had Rupper throw in his two cents because this would be the veteran’s third Winter Classic and second consecutive one at that. But with Torts’ closing words, everything became serious. There was no more fun, this was business. When you boiled it down to the basics it was still a game that needed to be won and if we played our game, the right way, we would be sure to come out on top.

With that coach left us to finish up preparing for today’s game, but as he did so he handed Danny G the starting lineup. Torts actions confused me because hadn’t he just said that the fun stopped here and now he was letting Dan announce the lineup for tonight? Oh, well, I guess he couldn’t deny us just a little bit more fun before we took the ice. But all attention turned back to my fellow defenseman.

“We gonna start?” The man chuckled at the camera that was now filming him, glancing down at the blue paper in his hands before he began, “On center, # 19, the big free agent/Broadway veteran.”

By now all the guys are chirping and hollering at Brad.

“On left wing, #62, ‘Don’t let it get good to ya’ Carl Hagelin.”

“OH YEAH!!” We all cheered and laughed at Dan’s creative announcing.

“At right wing, #24, ‘Always do it the right way’ Callahan.” This time Michael Del Zotto echoed him while we all clapped for our captain.

“On D, #12, ‘Eat your heart out’ Mickayla Hammer.”

Laughing, I tugged at the corners of my sweater like someone would do if they were popping the collar of their shirt as Del Zotto elbowed me in the ribs and the guys whistled at me. But now was the time to be cocky.

“On D, #5,” This time Dan stood up with a pelvic thrust he pointed to his chair while everyone cheered for him,

“G!!!!!!!!!” Danny threw in a second thrust for good measure before finishing up,

“In goal, #30, the King: Henrik Lundqvist.”

Everyone clapped and cheered for the anchor of our team as we all stood up to line up to take the ice. I took the opportunity while everyone was busy to step over to Hank’s side and offer him a ‘good luck’ kiss. Sure, everyone on the team knew about us but we didn’t want the cameras to pick it up and put it on their show. Pulling away, Hank said nothing but smiled down at me and put a gloved hand on my shoulder, which was all I needed from him in return before I went to go pump up the team with Michael.

“LET’S GO BOYS! LET’S KICK SOME FLYER ASS TODAY!”

“WOOHOOO!! LET’S SHOW ‘EM WHOSE BOSS!” Michael agreed with me.

Still worked up from Dan’s announcing, the guys didn’t need too much more to pump them up. Right now, they were all like pit bulls on Adderall just farthing at the mouth they were so ready to go. I, myself, was looking forward to giving Max Talbot a punishing check just because he had brought it to my attention that James was only using me. I’m thankful that he did, I’m much happier right now if he hadn’t but I had never gotten the chance to shoot the messenger when we had last played the Flyers little over a week ago. Maybe he should consider it a ‘thank you’ because it made the past week one of the best I’d ever had since getting together with Hank? But in all honesty, I didn’t care how it he takes it as long as I get a chance to check the Frenchie into the boards.

Lining up like normal, Hank led us out of the ballpark’s clubhouse and out onto the field where the makeshift outdoor rink was waiting for us as our fans that had made the journey chanted for us. As I stepped outside, the sight before my eyes took my breath away. I took back everything I had thought about playing outside before because what I had done before felt so small compared to this. There were so many people and fans that there were ever people in the nose bleed seats up top. The park was electrified, just teaming with energy that had me itching for the puck to drop. But to know that we were on national television with countless of thousands of other people watching from their homes or at bars was almost terrifying because if they didn’t know who I was now, they would after the game.

Just knowing that so many people were watching me made me want to bury myself in Hank’s arms in an attempt to hide from all the thousands of pairs of eyes now watching me. But I knew that I couldn’t do that for many reasons. First of all, it was unprofessional. Secondly, Hank was still technically a married man despite being in the process of going through a divorce. And finally, we had a game to play which way more important than my own personal fears.

Things were happening so fast and before I knew it, we were getting ready for our first shift as we lined up for the first puck drop of the 2012 NHL Bridgestone Winter Classic. All noise fade into back ground as my mind focused on Brad and Giroux as they lined up at center ice waiting for the puck to drop.

From there, the first period we broke out in our typical back in forth battle in which both Hank and Bobrovsky were able to turn shots away, keeping the game scoreless. I was glad to see that playing outside hadn’t effected how we were playing our game. Which was good for us because Torts would chew our asses out for not playing the way we were supposed to play if it had affected us. Putting all that aside, it was still a Rangers/Flyers game so it was still as nasty as ever with guys chirping and breaking out into fights during when words crossed the line.

“Let’s play some fuckin’ defense!” I shouted to my teammates from my seat on the bench after I had shifted out. I was on edge as I watched my teammates leave Hank out to dry time and again, but thankfully, he was able to handle the pressure of having to stand on his head to save us.

I hated that I couldn’t be out there to help control the game but I couldn’t be out there the entire time. I needed to regain my energy for the next shift I would be called out onto the ice for. But then I noticed that there was something funny going on with the puck as I watched Brian try to long pass the puck to Rupper. It started out fine but then it flipped over and fell short of the forward. After a few seconds, I realized that the wind had picked up and was killing the puck if it got sent into the air.

Back out on the ice, I got to experience just how chippy things had become as I was forced to fight and check the bruising Flyers offense that attempted to skate right through me. But I wasn’t going to let that happen as dogged around Simmons before taking the puck back around behind Hank with Giroux on my heels. He, then stopped in front of the Hank and began complaining,

“Fuckin’ Henrik, let me score one tonight. Just one.”

I couldn’t help but snicker to myself knowing that there was no way the Swede was going to let that fucking ginger score tonight. Especially, now that Claude had asked him to do so. Dumping the puck to, Callahan, I shifted back towards the blue line to do my job along side Girardi.

When Talbot’s line shifted out onto the ice, I couldn’t help but smile because I knew I had been given the chance that I had wanted since the start of the day. Staring him down until I knew he had seen me, I wanted to convey that message to him loud and clear. As the puck dropped, I was finally given my chance as Talbot tried to skate past me I was able to take him off the play with enough sting to make him remember it but not enough to send me into the penalty box. But Giroux wasn’t going to have me bullying his teammate as he slammed into me from behind. Which caused a whole new scrum.

“FUCK OFF!” I hissed at Giroux as he gloved hand gripped my jersey. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Hank bristle from the crease as I shoved the ginger off of me but I knew he wouldn’t interfere. He couldn’t, he wasn’t technically supposed to cross center ice.

“Go fuck your linemate.” He snapped back at me.

I had refrain myself from punching the forward in the jaw for just implying that I would do such a thing. But I wasn’t about to end up in the penalty box. Not over Giroux saying something as low as that. After that brief interaction, the Flyers offense was picking up, sending everything they had towards Hank. But it didn’t end up being enough to get through his defenses because the Swede stopped even Jagr, who cut through both Del Zotto and MacArthur in classic Jagr form.

The rest of period the score remained as it had began, scoreless as we headed back to the dressing rooms. There was a frustrated air that hung over us while we waited for the second period to start. Pulling off my sweater, I let out a frustrated groan and shook out my hair as I threw off my helmet. Sitting down in my cubby, I held my head in my hands trying to zone out all the conversations happening around me and refocus myself so that I was playing better.

A hand on my shoulder drew me back out of my mind. Looking up, I saw that it was Hank and I, immediately felt much better about my game. His mask rested on top of his head and I could clearly how much the sweat had begun to wash the eye black marks on his cheeks. Placing my hand on his, I offered him a small smile to let him know that I was all right. I’m sure he was worried about what had gone on with my short interaction with Giroux and I’m sure he had heard what the ginger had said to me. He probably hated that he couldn’t do anything to help me, but he also knew that I didn’t need any help in that department. Looking into his blue eyes, I nodded to let him know that everything was all right.

Back out on the ice in the second period, things had started off just like they had during the first. Things were getting more fast and furious as both the Flyers and us became more desperate to score first. With each possession of the puck they had, the Flyers skated a little harder and a little faster trying to out skate me in order to get better chances at scoring shot on Hank. They were still trying to find a hole in his impermeable defense. However, they hadn’t realized that they were dealing with the fastest skater on the team whenever they tried to outskate me one on one.

“Let’s go to work, boys!” I heard Rupper encourage his line mates as they began to work towards the Flyers net. I held my position at the blue line knowing that if I encroached on the offensive that it could blow at wide-open opportunity for the Flyers to score.

While the Flyers were trying to establish their offensive, we were trying to dominate them physically taking every opportunity possible on the forecheck and keeping them from blocking Hank’s view of the ice. I knew I was finally getting into my game when I managed to land a hard hip check on the Flyers’ other ginger, Scott Hartnell from the way he came back at me prepared to fight but I wasn’t about to be dogged into throwing the first blow.

The game passes its halfway point and I’m rotated back onto the bench to watch as they take a faceoff in our zone. Once again I was on the edge of my seat watching with my full attention focused on the draw, but this time I had a bad feeling about what was about to go down and my worst fears were confirmed with the Flyers finally managed to score on Hank.

“FUCK!” I hissed, slamming the handle of my stick into the bottom of the dugout as I watched those bastards celebrate next to the glass behind Hank, “Fuckin’ Flyers.”

An elbow to my side brought me out of my tirade as I looked to see that it was Mike Rupp who had beckoned for my attention. Arching an eyebrow at him, I couldn’t help but wonder why the man had wanted my attention.

“Save your anger til your out on the ice next and then let ‘em have it.” The veteran suggested with a wicked gleam in his eye. I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of what my unleashed rage would to do an unlucky Flyer who just happened to cross my path. Rupper smirked back at me as we slightly confirmed our plan of action. Nodding, I hopped back out onto the ice while the stoppage in play had Torts shifting lines once more.

“Let’s turn it up a notch, eh?” I told the guys with a smirk, “We’ve got to score and stop ‘em here! So go out there and out work them!”

But the Flyers managed to head back up ice once again as Giroux scores on Hank. I was on the verge of erupting by that point, but I knew blowing up then wouldn’t help our cause any so instead I skated over to Hank to make sure he was okay.

“Hank, don’t worry, “ I told him, tapping one of his leg blockers, “We still got this. Just do what you do and we’ll do what we do.”

“Mickie-“ Hank object but I held a hand up to stop him,

“No, you’re Henrik fuckin’ Lundqvist, be you.”

With that I skated away from him knowing that I had rekindled the fire within my goalie so that I could focus on my game knowing that he was back in the right frame of mind. At the next face off, we give the Flyers little time to enjoy their 2-0 lead as the puck gets dumped back to me before I chuck it to Rupper, who shot the puck into the net and bringing us back into the game. I almost laugh when I see him mocking Jagr’s signature salute as I skate over to celebrate with the man who had just brought the game back into perspective for us.

After both sides scoring 3 goals total within 2 minutes the rest of the period in mark with more near misses before we are headed back to the dressing room for the final intermission before the final period of the game begins. Stripping down to my under armor, I am relived to find that the guys are just as pumped to get back into the game as I am. To my surprise Torts was very enthusiastic about our chances as he told us to keep it simple and continue to play our game the Rangers way.

When Giroux confronts some of the guys back out on the ice, I could tell that he was pissed about finding out that Rupper had done the Jagr salute. I could only chuckle at how petty he was currently being. Was it really that offensive or was he just looking for an excuse to pick a fight? That didn’t matter much to me because when my eyes connected with Rupper’s, I knew that he was aiming to set up for the same thing as last time.

After the draw, Prust tips the puck back to me while the rest of the guys crash towards the Flyers next leaving me open to set up our next goal as I pass the puck to Mitchell who sends it Prust, who gets it to Rupper, who finally puts the biscuit in the basket for the second time during the game. It wasn’t 2 and half minutes later that I found myself with the opportunity give us the lead with a one timer from the Flyers’ blue line! It wasn’t something that I had expected but I knew Torts had wanted us to send pucks to the nets and mine just happened to slip under with all the traffic distracting Bobrovsky. I jumped as soon as I saw it slide under his pad and thrust my fist in the air, excitedly because I couldn’t believe that I had scored at the Winter Classic. The guys swarmed me, pushing me back into the boards as they piled around me.

“Fuckin’ right, Mickie. Fuckin’ rights!” Girardi voiced for all of the guys while in the circle around me as the rest of them cheered. Even Brad was happy for me because he was the first one to tap me on the helmet. Which was strange considering how he had been acting towards me for the last couple days. Eventually, we break apart as I skate back for a much-needed break on the bench. Glancing over at Hank, I could see the pride gleaming in his eyes and I can’t help but grin even wider knowing that I had made him proud.

The next fifteen minutes, I find myself back out on the ice a few times as the Flyers desperately try to tie the game back up. I knew that we might have the lead but we weren’t out of the woods until the final buzzer blew. The Broad Street Bullies continued to hurl pucks at the net with no avail because Hank had regained his focus and stance as he continued to do his apart by denying them any more goals.

The Flyers finally got their break however when McDonagh made a mental error by covering up the puck in the crease. A plenty shot was called for the Flyers and everyone on both benches were all watching because everyone knows that this could decide the outcome of the game. It didn’t take long for the Flyers to decide that Danny Briere was going to take the shot on Hank. With my arms on the board, I watch as the officials drop the puck at center ice, setting up Danny’s penalty shot. All while I am willing Hank with all that I have to make that save that would most likely win the game for us. As the Flyers’ forward skated with the puck towards Hank everything seems to go in slow motion as the intensity boils over. But when Briere makes a tactical error to take the five hole, but Hank is quick to deny him sending our bench into cheers of excitement.

“Fuck yeah!”

As the final few minutes of the game ensue, all hell breaks loose and everything becomes chippy while the Flyers are still desperately trying to change the momentum for their side. Final few seconds off one last chance for them to score but then the clock winds down and it’s all over. Hugging guys sitting on either side of me, I jump off the bench skate towards my Swede throwing my arms around him as cheers of victory echo around us as our teammates celebrate the win. The rest of the guys begin to pile around us congratulating Hank on his stellar performance for the evening. Viewing his as an opportunity I push Hank’s helmet up just enough to sneak in a kiss before anyone had a chance to see. I pull away surprised by my boldness and my own idiocy but Hank doesn’t seem to mind and no one seems to notice the brief moment we shared.

The planned fireworks go off around the park as we continue to celebrate our first win of the new year outside under lights of Citizen’s Bank Ball Park while the Flyers skate off the ice like the Penguins did the year before. As disrespectful as it seemed I understood why they didn’t want to do it. Especially, since they had just lost in front of their home crowd on national television. At the time, I didn’t notice them leave because I was too busy congratulating my teammates as I skated around the ice,

“Woohoo!” I chirped as I came up to Michael and we did our little handshake.

Back in the locker room, I could tell that the party had only just begun, as everyone was all smiles and hugs. Our GM and owner came down to also congratulate us as the told us how proud of the team they were. Smiling, I walk over to my cubby and pull out the old Broad Way hat that had been in my possession since our last meeting with the Flyers,

“And the hat goes to….. Rupper!” Walking across the room, I hand over the hat to the man, who pulls off his sock cap and replaces it with the hat he had earned during the game.

The rest of the guys cheer for the veteran, who exactly one year ago had been sitting in the Penguins locker room in Heinz Field wallowing in loss dealt to them by the Capitals. But, he had lifted us up to victory today so he definitely deserved the hat. I was glad to have helped contribute to his personal victory. But glancing back towards, Hank I was even gladder that the HBO cameras wouldn’t be following us around. Especially, when I saw the dangerous glimmer that twinkled when his eyes met mine. It sent a shiver down my spine because I knew that my night’s worth of celebrating was far from over. Not that I didn’t mind, we’d have three days to bask in our victory before we would have to refocus ourselves to play the Panthers back in MSG. But for now, I was perfectly content just enjoying the fruits of our labor at the halfway point of the season being at the top of the Atlantic division and now on top of the Eastern Conference.