Clusterpuck (Vegas Crush #9)

36. The Cup Winning Goal

36 /

the cup winning goal

Tripp

Five months later.

Well, here I am. Game five in the Cup finals. The Ice Dragon will face off against his former teammates from Austin in a ride-or-die game.

I have never been this close, and I swear I can taste the electricity in the air. Outside, there’s a literal circus. A big top, with fire-eaters and tight-rope walkers and all kinds of other chaos. There’s a concert happening on the ice for pre-game, and fireworks are scheduled for afterward—assuming a win.

There’s a Crush tradition that I’ve just learned about. The PR team loads messages on two big screens at either side of the tunnel. The guys line up, padded up, sticks in hand, and wait their turn for a message. For many, this is exactly as expected. Their parents and siblings and wives all wish them luck on the screen. Evan is ahead of me in the line, and his face lights up when his wife, Holly, and their three kids show up on the screen. It makes me smile to see how much the guy truly loves his family.

The love is reciprocated as he heads out on the ice to a deafening roar from the crowd. This might very well be Evan’s last game as a player for the Crush. It’s absolutely his last game on home ice. I can see the emotion on his face, his image larger than life on the jumbotron, as he skates around, holding up his stick, taking in the love that this city has for him.

Across the tunnel, the next video plays for Georg Kolochev, with his wife Pam and their two kids blowing him kisses. He blows a kiss back at the video and skates out.

My video starts with various greetings from my parents and siblings. My sister Jenn, holding her baby son, my nephew, Matthew, makes a funny comment about being the better athlete of the family, then tells me she’s proud of the man I’ve become. After her bit, my lovely and very pregnant wife appears. She tells me to enjoy every second of this moment because poopy diapers are on the horizon. She also says she loves me, and can’t wait to see me hoist the Cup as a champion. I can’t help but get a little choked up.

As I skate forward, Scarlett grabs my arm and points to the big screen. There, Lila appears again. She says, “Hello, Crush family. I’m Lila Marchmont-Terry, an intern at the Crush, the granddaughter of Crush owner, Max Terry, and the wife of Crush player, Tripp Blackburn.”

I stand at the edge of the ice, wondering where this is going, craning my neck to see if I can spot Lila anywhere in the crowd.

“Later tonight,” she continues, “you’ll have an opportunity to share in the Crush’s celebration of, and tribute to, Evan Kazmeirowicz.”

The crowd goes crazy at the mention of his name. He is, it seems, a true Crush legend.

“I’ve grown up around hockey,” Lila’s video continues…“My grandfather owns an NHL team. My father is a general manager in the NHL. And I’ll continue the tradition, as well. But I need to share just how different this Crush family really is. It is a true family, a group of people who truly care about each other, and about the community around them. That’s why I’m so excited to announce the rebranding of the Crush Foundation. Now, the foundation will be known as the Crush Family and Community Foundation. We will be sending our players and staff out to help families in need through key partnerships with local organizations. And at the helm of that important mission? Our very own Evan Kazmeirowicz!”

Again, deafening cheers erupt as an image of Evan and his family appears on the screen. Another video starts, this time, with Evan doing the talking.

“Every story ends,” video-Evan says, “but really, it’s just the beginning of the next chapter. I have loved every minute on the ice here in Vegas. It’s been the best time of my life, the best years of my career, and the best place to build the life I wanted. Vegas will always be home to me and my family, and we are so excited to be part of this exciting mission to further build the team’s connection to the community. I’ll see you all again soon, but now, I’ll hand it back to Lila. Remember her name—she’ll own this place someday.”

Lila pops back up on the screen. “Congratulations Evan—your story and your play has been such an inspiration to us all. My favorite role of yours is father—I love seeing you with your kids—and I’m excited that my husband has such a great role model and friend to look to as we welcome…”

A drumroll starts, and the crowd joins into the noisemaking. Suddenly, video-Lila holds up a small, pink baby onesie, and little pink balloons rain down from the rafters.

“A baby girl!” I hear Lila say.

Scarlett pushes me out onto the ice as the crowd goes nuts. Holy shit, did she just do the most epic gender-reveal ever?

I skate around as the announcer says, “Congratulations, Lila and Tripp” and the jumbotron graphics switch to an animated, congratulatory message. Only when I get back to the bench, guys slapping me on the back, does the camera go to a live image of Lila, up in the owner’s box with Max at her side. Her family is all there too, along with mine. I blow a kiss in her direction, and she blows one back.

Christ. When did I become this guy? The guy who’s beaming with delight at the prospect of having a daughter this summer? The guy who’s blowing kisses to his wife from the bench?

Thankfully, I don’t have much time to think about it too hard. A quick cleanup of pink balloons is followed by the National Anthem and a drop of the puck. Coach Brown has said he’ll likely go back to the original starting lineup for this game, as long as their game play is effective. I think, primarily, he wants these guys—who’ve been the predominant reason the Crush has done so well these past few years—get their due on the ice. If we take this Cup home tonight, Coach wants everyone to know that they are a big reason why.

I’m okay with that. Walking away from my career with a Cup on my résumé will be enough for me. I don’t need glory. I just wanted to say I had that experience at least once. But my name will be carved on the thing forever, and that’s fucking awesome, hey.

Game play is good and fast—the guys are right where they all belong, a chemistry built over years of game play together hard to ignore. Mikhail sneaks a pass to Evan about ten minutes in that puts a point on the board for us. They make it look effortless, so easy.

At the first period break, a video plays that announces Mikhail Zelenka as the next captain of the Vegas Crush. It was a team vote put to a coaching recommendation, and I think it was damn near unanimous. The guy is quiet, but he’s earned his stripes. He’s been consistent and strong on the ice since he arrived—a starter at only nineteen years old, he’s certainly grown up a lot since.

Coach asked if I’d consider extending my contract one more year, but I declined. I’ve got other things to attend to—namely poopy diapers—and I think it’s time for this team to bring in some new blood, for these young guys to get more ice time so they can develop as players and leaders.

Austin scores in the second period, tying things up. I get a few minutes on the ice, but my play is nothing to write home about, so Coach puts Evan back in. Me? I sit and stew over it.

During the second-period break, the team honors Evan. A video reel of his career highlights plays, interspersed with interviews with his friends, teammates, and family. There are some funny parts, mostly thanks to Georg and Tyler, but honestly? I don’t think there’s a dry eye in the place once the lights go out.

A single spotlight illuminates Evan. “It’s crazy to stand here knowing it’s my last time on this ice,” he says. “But I want to thank you all for believing in me, for supporting this team. It’s been such a wild ride and I’m certain that I’ll miss it like hell. Thanks for everything, Las Vegas!”

I hear the break in his voice at the end. He heads back to the bench as the crowd goes nuts. He sits, staring ahead, clearly trying to hold it together. I pat him on the back as Tyler Lockhardt tells him not to be a pussy. This makes him laugh. He shakes his head and says, “This is fucking harder than I thought it would be.”

It’s in that moment that I decide we are not going to let Evan finish his career without that Cup.

Third period starts and Coach gives Evan a break on the bench so he can collect himself. I go out in his spot and as soon as the puck drops, I’m in the zone. We all are, dominating and possessing. A mistake by the Austin defense puts me in a position to score, and we go one-up. I look for the sub, but Evan waves me back. Keep playing.

We press again, aggressive in taking the puck off our opponents. I slide a pass over to Boris, who levels it straight into the goal, the sneaky little biscuit slipping between the goalie’s legs.

Three-one, with five minutes to go, and I look again for Evan. He’s ready, so I skate off and hand him off the last five minutes of his playing career. The crowd is so loud, I think my eardrums might bust. There’s no hearing a thing in this place. I’ve literally never been in a game where the crowd was so loud. They can feel it—the win that’s coming. The glory that this team will again bring to the city.

Austin gets off two shots on goal, but Cal flicks them away like bugs. He’s pissed about letting one in, and he sure as hell won’t let it happen again. He hasn’t let more than one in per game nearly all season. Georg is at Evan’s back, and he gets the puck up to him, but double-coverage has Evan dumping it back to him a moment later. One, two, three passes across the back line, and then Viktor zings it back up to Boris, who looks ready to shoot but, instead, fakes out the defender by getting the puck back to Evan. He pulls the trigger and tips it in, right over the goalie’s outstretched hand.

The buzzer goes, the crowd goes, and the team goes. It’s so noisy. Guys are hugging and jumping and banging their sticks on the walls. Two minutes to go and there is no coming back for Austin. The play slows a bit as the clock winds down its final seconds.

There’s music and video and laser lights and balloons and confetti and it’s a big, sloppy mess. I hang back, because this isn’t my show, but Evan grabs me and pushes me up to the front of the group as the Cup ceremony starts.

It’s so surreal. This thing just happened—a thing I’ve wanted since I was a kid. Several of the guys have come up to me and said a phrase I’d never dared to dream of hearing.

“Blackburn, your goal, was the cup winner!”

Which is fucking awesome, of course.

But all I can think about is how badly I want to see Lila. How much I want to celebrate with her and discuss little girl names together.

That’s how I know things are happening the right way this time.

Just as they should be.