10 years ago
Tripp
“Captain, you’re on,” Coach barks, grabbing the facemask of my helmet and shaking me out of my thoughts. My adrenaline is thrumming in my veins, I feel wired enough to lift a car. Wired enough to go to battle.
I’ve got the eye black for battle, now smudged down my face from sweat in the final quarter of the game. It’s the state championships and we’re down by one. As the captain, I’m the one that must step up and bring this home for the team.
But adrenaline isn’t what I need. What I need is to focus, to calm down and center myself. Reflexively, my eyes travel up to the stands, and it doesn’t take long for them to land on one person in particular. After all, I’ve been stealing glances at her plenty in the last three quarters.
Ivy sits between her parents and my Pops, wearing her brother’s alternate jersey. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to see her sitting there in my number right now. But she’s here. And she’s staring back at me with such determination and trust. I find my center in her gaze, same as every other time I’ve looked up tonight.
With renewed determination, I jog back out onto the field. Getting into my stance for the face off, I let all the commotion around me drift away. Fifteen minutes of play remain, fifteen minutes to prove myself.
The clock reads zero. And the scoreboard reads in our favor. I’m lost in the center of my team’s huddle, the sound of sticks slapping above my head, and every so often against my helmet. We won, and I scored two goals in a five-minute span. The first was a fast break off the faceoff and the second honestly had a lot to do with luck.
Our team disperses to head back to the sideline where family and friends have lined up on the rail of the stands above us. Wes throws his arm across my shoulders as we make our way over to his family and Pops. “Damn, that was impressive,” he shouts over the blaring air horns. “You killed it out there, good job.”
“Thanks,” I laugh, tapping my stick against his helmet. We break apart as he moves to his mother, and I remove my right glove to clasp Pops’s hand. My grandfather doesn’t miss the way my eyes drift to his left, though, landing on a beaming Ivy. He gives a subtle nod in her direction, releasing my hand.
I offer a nod back before turning fully to her. And the moment I do, she leans way too far over the rail for my liking, arms outstretched. “That was amazing, Tripp,” she shouts as I reach up and steady her. Caught up in the moment, I hold her in a tight hug, reveling in the feel of her hugging me back. From the way she is hanging, her hair falls forward over my face, and I steal a sniff as it envelops me in her heavenly scent. Yeah, this is way better than any trophy.