One Shots
Ryan Nugent-Hopkins (2)
The clock wound down in overtime at Rexall Place. The arena roared, urging the Oilers on. The Flames had the puck, the score tied 2-2. You watched anxiously, sighing in relief when a shot hit the crossbar and bounced right to the Oilers’ defenseman. He passed it up to Eberle, who rushed it with Nugent-Hopkins alongside and Hall behind. They beat the defenseman, going three on one into the Flames’ zone. Eberle faked the shot, dropping it to Nuge.
With 0:15 remaining, Ryan toe-dragged around the defense, faked the slapshot, then rushed in and put the puck behind the goaltender high short side with the backhand. It was the move you suggested at practice, and it actually worked! The red light lit up, and the goal horn sounded, echoing throughout the rink. Mixed with the excited cheers of the crowd, it was almost deafening. The game finally ended with 0:09 left in overtime on the scoreboard.
Nuge had played stellar throughout the whole game, and when combined with his game-winning goal, gave him the First Star of the night. You beamed, thinking, Atta boy, Ryan! You were very proud of him, especially after seeing the move he’d made to score.
You waited after the game on the concourse, figuring that you probably wouldn’t be allowed down by the locker rooms without a media pass. You quickly texted him, Meet me on the concourse when ur done :). It took an hour, but he finally found you.
“Good game,” you smiled, congratulating him. He stood almost awkwardly with you, and you weren’t sure if that was because of what he said earlier or just because he was shy.
Yet he cracked a smile. “Yeah, thanks. I really like that move you taught me.”
“I knew it’d work,” you smirked, daring him to flirt.
“I, uh, I hope so,” he answered, not romantic in the least. “Hey, umm… would you, maybe, you know, wanna go for coffee or something later? I don’t have practice tomorrow morning..” He trailed off, waiting for your response.
“Yeah, sure. What time?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Nuge said, looking down at the floor, shuffling his feet. “I’ll text you when, I guess.”
“That’s fine,” you said. You gave him a quick little kiss, adding, “Until tomorrow then.” You started walking away, the turned your head to call back, “I’m proud of you, by the way. You’re very skilled!”
