Puck You

1.Oh Captain

The deafening darkness is the first thing that greets me as I step out of the locker room.

The roar of the crowd is the second. 

Third is the soft shink as my skates hit the carpeted floor.

But it is the cheers of my teammates I focus on.

"OH CAPTAIN!" Their powerful voices form one single, strong feminine sound. The cheer they created for me the last six years I've been captain, a reference to one of our favorite movies, Dead Poet's Society, roars through the stadium. I told them not to do this for me, but they insisted. Stubborn chicks.

"MY CAPTAIN!" My best friend and co-captain, Ameliè yells back.

"OH CAPTAIN!" They give me the confidence I need. I propel forward, my blue and silver jersey filling my frame with the heavy pads under it. My stick is in my gloved hand, ready to score and win this game for my team.

"MY CAPTAIN!" I lurch forward, passing the door to the ice. A mixture of dread and anticipations curls low in my stomach. This is the championship game for my Winnipeg Warhawks Travel Hockey Team, but it is the last game I will play as their captain.

So we'll win it, or go out trying.

The concrete stadium seats above me vibrate with the stomps of so many fans, and I know the stands are packed.

The vibrations wave through me, matching the racing of my pulse.

All these years has come down to this moment.

For my team. I would do this for my team.

The thought chases away any sadness or excitement, leaving my veins pumped with sheer determination.

So when my team yells "OH CAPTAIN!"...

I'm ready.

___

"THATS'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, CAP!" 

"HELL YEAH!" 

A grin spreads across my face, the trophy heavy in my grasp. "LADIES, WHAT DID WE WIN?"

"THE CHAMPIONSHIP, BABY!" They screamed, bodies engulfing me in a dog pile of a hug. 

"That's right!" I yell, thrusting the trophy above my head.

We won the game, and after celebrating on the ice for about fifteen minutes, Coach made us retreat to the locker room.

None of us changed out of our jerseys, even after the team picture was taken on the ice. (We had taken our skates off, walking around in just socks.) It wasn't just winning the championship that caused our prolonged stay, no, we had won the championship six years in a row. It was the unspoken realization that after we left this locker room, I wouldn't be Captain and this wouldn't be my team.

The thought dampened my post-game win. My teammates, who were honestly sisters at this point, picked up on my  mood. The cheers quieted down, the looks of joy sobered.

Ameliè, who was next to me, whispered, "Go on, Marj. You've got to say something."

"Yeah, Cap, give us a speech!" My first-string defenseman, Lea, shouted. 

Cheers of agreement sounded, but quickly died out. 

I swallowed, my eyes flicked downwards.

I cleared my throat, stepping onto the bench. I stood tall, meeting each and every one of my teammate's eyes before speaking. Lord, give me strength to not fall apart.