I jumped the boards, and burst up the ice, heading for the net.

"Jake!" Called Anze, firing the puck back to me.

I wound up, and took a slap shot. It was caught by the glove, and I groaned. The whistle blew, and I smashed my stick on the ice.

"Fuck!" I shouted, enraged by the missed opportunity.

"It's OK Jakie." Said Dustin. "We'll get one."

I skated to the edge of the faceoff circle, and lined up for the faceoff. The puck dropped, and I skated right up to the goalie, stopping an inch in front of him, and spraying him with snow as he tried to make a save.

"Hey, fuck off bud!" One of the Minnesota defensemen came up, and grabbed my jersey.

"What's your problem?" I asked, as the ref hauled him to the penalty box.

"Two minutes! Roughing!" He called, and blew the whistle to call a faceoff.

I glanced up at the highscreen. Less than 5 seconds remaining in the first period.

The puck dropped, and I skated toward the bench, as the horn blew to end the first period. I took a drink of water, before skating across the ice to the players entrance.

"It's fine boys! We'll get them!" Called Drew.

I walked down the long tunnel, and toward the dressing room. I stepped through the doors to the room, and sat down in my stall.

"It's OK boys. Don't panic." Said Dustin, wiping his face with a towel.

I took off my gloves, and tossed them to an equipment manager.

"Fuck. I was so close." I groaned, and bowed my head.