FINALLY!!!

That whole "never too high, never too low" stuff you hear from the pros? That can bite me. You wanna know how much that can bite me?

I got in my car after hockey, put ALL the windows down, blasted my radio, and screamed, "WOOOOOOO!!!! F**K YEAH!!!!!!" my entire 30 minute drive home. Oh, and I can't leave out the fist pumps. Lots of fist pumping.

Why the big high?

2 goals. That's it. 2 piddly shit goals. (I believe my best game was 6 goals until tonight... BIG difference.)

Moreover, for the first time since I started playing, I felt like I contributed positively to my team's success. I helped them win, rather than them winning in spite of me. I stopped breakaways, I stopped close-in shots, I stopped the slow shit, I stopped the fast shit from the point.

I should have stopped the two I didn't. The first was one that Peed skated in on me and I was on the post and didn't go down and he just found a hole and popped it in. Shoulda had it. Hell, he was close enough, I shoulda nutted him. (KIDDING!!!! Though I was watching Flyers v. Oilers from 87 before I left the house tonight... Hextall... man, he let in a lot of goals with that stand-up style. That's hard to watch now. I would be lying to say that didn't influence me tonight. It was like looking in a safety orange mirror...)

The second, I was screened by two of my own players, and seeing that, I should have gone down immediately, but didn't. I was pissed about that one, more because I knew better and just didn't react, than I was about the screens. But that still kinda pissed me off, too. I mean, if you're gonna stand in front of me, get a stick or a skate on the son of a bitch.

But the green team was otherwise awesome in front of me. Mitch rocks!!! So much hustle! I'm a fan, buddy. Thank you!

Anyway, the final score was 5-2, though whoever was running the scoreboard put 5 goals up against me as the game was ending. Meh, whatever. I know the truth.

What's more, I had a shutout for the first 35:45. And luckily the team was good about not being too "rah rah" at me about it. I think they were thinking, "About fucking time she plays some real goal." Whatever. I'm just glad they kept away from me. And I kept talking to myself: "Stay focused. Just be in front of the puck. Don't think. Just stop pucks. Stay focused."

Admittedly, the red team didn't look all that good and the posts saved me a few times. A few unlucky bounces and the score could have easily been tied. But that's always how it is and I still get scored on a bunch, so whatever. I'll take the gift and count my blessings.

I came home and thank goodness Mr. C was still awake. I was bouncing off the walls and he was hiding under the covers. He doesn't see me this jacked very often. The last time I felt like this was the evening after we flipped our car way up in Canada and I was just so incredibly happy to be alive, I was as full of unbridled joy as I've ever been. Quite literally high on life.

One of the saves, I dunno even how it did this, but somehow it was all the way down in my leg pad. That was kinda weird but I finally managed to shake it out. My favorite, though, was a shot from the point, which I almost never see in novice. I was already down and felt like the current level of threat warranted that I stay down, so I did. I watched that thing come all the way in and covered it. It was a beauty.

My goal for tonight was just to forget all the angst and moping and feeling like shit that I've felt for the last few weeks and go back to the basics: Stop. The. Puck. I tried not to talk much before the game. Kinda just got in a pissed off mode (genuine, unfortunately, as it really feels pretty fucking awful when you get the sense that your team is giving up on you) and stayed there.

Also, chicken pot pie from Boston Market is my official pre-game meal now. I've already informed Mr.C that he better get to loving the BoMa because it's now a Sunday evening staple.

Uh, what else? I dunno. I'm just really happy. I know it won't always be this good, but I'll be honest: Tonight was the first night I've dreaded coming to the rink in the same way I used to dread it as a skater. And I really didn't want to feel that way about playing goal. I needed a personal victory very badly and I got it.

Just gotta keep building on this, keep pressing, remember that it's not easy and it's not safe and that's okay.

Meanwhile, I'm living with an ice pack strapped to my right groin. I pulled it while stretching during warm-ups and it just got worse and worse with each fly save and reach-out of my leg. We'll see what other interesting places I'm sore tomorrow once the adrenaline wears off and I've slept on it (though I'm not sure how much sleep I'll get tonight. I've been home for 2 hours and I'm still WIDE awake).

Off to the lake tomorrow to hang with Coach Stalin. Then Aeros game tomorrow night. Christ, I hope I didn't just use up all my good hockey mojo on myself. There's enough to go around, eh, hockey gods? Pretty please with a donut on top? *MWAH*