Icon #29 Jason

#29 

The goal stretched around him like the mouth of a cave, and Danny stared straight out over the ice.  He gripped the stick so tightly that, if you could have seen the knuckles beneath the heavy padded gloves they would have been as white as the mask covering his face.  Colors swam before his sweat-stung eyes.  He concentrated on yellow and black.  They were his enemy.  He listened to the sounds of the crowd and the voices of the other players, tying it all together to target the puck.

It was the third game between his own team, the “Avengers” and the “South Side Stingers.”  Both games had gone to the Stingers, and in both games he’d failed.  A tall rangy kid named Jake, who was lightning on skates, had scored three goals in the first match, and an even half dozen in the second.  Danny would have lived it down somehow, except the kid just wouldn’t let it go.  He’s laughed.  He’d taunted.  The last time they’d met, he’d reached out when the ref wasn’t looking and hooked Danny’s skate, tripping him to the ice painfully and drawing a roar of laughter from the crowd.

This time it would be different. He glanced down to where he’d used modeling glue to embed the razor blades in the back of his stick, and he smiled.  He thought back to the movie he’d watched the night before, avoiding the wood-enducing naked scenes and focusing on his hero.  THE Goalie.  The guardian of the gates.   He reached up and straightened the white mask over his face and skated forward as Jake cut loose from the pack, headed for the goal.  For once, Danny paid no attention to the puck.  He thought he could get that stick neck high ONE time.

And that would be Jake with him.

He chuckled, smiled and whistled his favorite theme song…