“I’m just trying to figure out how to function in this chaos.” I say, my face in my hands. Coach Perry had just called a timeout, the clock showing 38.6 seconds left in the game. We are losing 2-1 against our biggest rival, the Peterborough Petes, in the Centennial Cup, the junior A hockey national championship of Canada. We are getting dominated this game, the scoreboard displaying the shots on goal as 37-16 in favor of the Petes. We needed a miracle.

We had an offensive zone faceoff on the left side, and Coach drew up the play we always ran when we needed a goal: Mike wins the faceoff to Marc, then Marc passes it back to Chuck, who slides it across to me, then finally I fake a shot and pass it backdoor to Marc for a one timer. At this point in the season it was nearly an automatic goal when we ran the play. Since we had utilized this play so many times, I zone out knowing exactly what we are going to do. I peered down the hallway to see if I could see how Owen was doing. He had received a leg check by the Petes’ biggest player, and had severely injured his knee. I saw him looking back at me from down the hall with nothing but sorrow in his eyes, with the doctor at his side inspecting the damage. He was my best friend on the team, and an extremely important player for us up to this point. We are always together, whether it be at the rink, out to eat, playing golf, or even doing school work. I saw a tear roll down his face as we locked eyes. This was no tear of physical pain, though. It was a tear of mental pain, as this could be his last hockey game ever, since he was aging out of junior hockey. Seeing him in that situation hurt me more than anything.

The buzzer sounds as the timeout ends, the refs rushing us out of our huddles. Aidan goes to skate back to the net. He is our starting goalie, and another one of my best friends on the team. He is one of the nicest people I have ever met, always trying to pump people up when they are down. However as he skates back to his net, Coach calls for him, then waves him back to the bench, putting Will out on the ice as the extra attacker. This wouldn’t have been such a terrible move, had the rest of us known that he was pulling the goalie at the time of the faceoff. The ref blows his whistle and drops the puck. Mike won the faceoff back to Marc, Marc drops it back to Chuck, who then slides the puck over to me. I look to Marc for the cross ice pass and it couldn’t have been more wide open. I give him a perfect pass, precisely where he likes his one timers: off the back foot. I almost begin to celebrate, until it is deflected by a defenseman. He must have watched our game film to be able to pick off that pass. It deflected up out of the zone, and their forward was the first one to it. He flipped the puck towards our empty net out of desperation, hoping to seal the game. It lands, taking a big bounce left, then curls back to the right: directly into our net. My heart sank. I had just lost the game for us because of a missed pass.

Coach Perry left our lines out, since there was only about 30 seconds left. The ref drops the puck, and Mike wins the faceoff back to me. I skate up to the red line, shooting it off the glass into the zone hoping for the defenseman to bobble the puck, or a forechecker to steal it and get a quick goal. As it rims around the glass, it hits a stanchion and bounces towards the net. The entire rink jumps up on their feet as the puck crosses the goal line! I had put our team back within one goal with 23.4 seconds left in the game. There was still a chance.

Once again, Coach leaves our line out on the ice for the end of the game, hoping we would be able to score one more quick goal. This time when the refs drop the puck, the Petes center wins the faceoff back to their defenseman, who tries to skate it back into their zone in order to waste time. I yelled at our forwards to pressure the defenseman, as that was our last hope. When all three of them skate towards the defenseman, he tries to chip it out of their zone off the top of the glass. I step up to the blue line, jumping up to what felt like the ceiling of the rink, in order to catch the meandering puck and keep it in the zone. I tip it up higher into the air, then catching it as it falls, dropping it onto my stick. I look up to see two opposing players skating straight at me, out for blood. Then, I see Marc in front of the net, his stick on the ice, wide open. I throw the puck blindly in his direction, hoping it somehow squeaks through the defenders and onto his stick. As I made the pass, I was bulldozed into the ice by both defenders. I look up to see what had happened, and I hear cheers roaring throughout the arena. Marc is celebrating in the corner, and had just scored the game tying goal with 5.8 seconds left on the clock!

I feel my heart pounding like a drum as we make our way through the handshake line. Coach finally takes us off the ice for a breather before overtime, and I look over at Marc on the bench, and I notice that he was already looking at me, smiling. I smile back, knowing that this could be our last game together. We were both NHL draft eligible players being scouted by many teams, so it certainly isn’t the end of the road for us. However for me as the captain, and for Marc as an assistant captain, we need to play like it was. Many of our teammates are playing their last year of hockey, and have never made it this far into playoffs before, so we need to lead our team, despite being 4 years younger than some of them.

The ref drops the puck, and time expires in the third period. It is overtime now. Both teams skate back to their respective benches for what could be the Coaches’ biggest motivational speech in their career. Coach Perry is exhilarated with our efforts, playing to the very last buzzer. Although the job is not finished, he states. We still have plenty of time left to play. I zone out again as Coach Perry does his spiel on how this could be our last game ever, and how we need to leave it all out on the ice.

Since the overtime format is 3 on 3, Coach has a tough decision to make on who to put out onto the ice, and he ends up choosing me, Marc, and Mike. I look around the rink and notice that not only are all of the players from both benches on their feet, but the entire crowd is too. All I can hear is shouting, clamor, and applause as we line up for the faceoff. The ref checks to make sure the goalies are prepared, and drops the puck. We are underway. Mike wins the faceoff back to me, and with no pressure, I take my time, skating it back into our defensive zone to set up.

I begin to skate up ice when one of their players pressures me, so I turn and pass it backwards to Marc, who has a full head of steam. He skates into the puck and carries it from our blue line all the way to the other team’s goal line, and circles the zone. Noticing that both me and Mike are being covered, he skates it back out of the zone to reset. He is booed by the crowd, who is waiting for some action. I regroup in the neutral zone with Marc, waiting for Mike to get back onsides. Marc slides it backwards to me, and I pass it to Mike who is cutting across the blue line. He takes it wide around the defenseman, and cuts back to the middle, trying to toe drag and then go between the defensemans legs. I roll my eyes, knowing this isn’t going to work, and that he will lose the puck. He checks Mike, and the puck continues through the defender’s legs, who is unaware of where the puck is.

Mike, knowing exactly where the puck is, uses his forward momentum to make his way around the defender and back to the puck. He is all alone in front of the net, with only the goalie between him and the Centennial Cup! He fakes the shot and moves the puck over to his backhand, and the goalie tracks it perfectly, but when he shifts back to his forehand, the goalie is far gone, and Mike has all of the net to shoot at. He rifles the puck directly down the middle of the net, and he scores! Mike had just completed the comeback, and won us the Centennial Cup! We pile on top of him in front of the net, as the opposing players sit on the ice against the boards, devastated. I feel a tear of sympathy roll down my cheek as I look towards their bench. I wipe it away quickly and get back to celebrating the astounding victory with my team.