LAST BREAKOUT

The place we love the most is where we look the happiest. No worldly worries can touch us there, if it does, we are content enough to accept the challenge and fight.

“The Royal Runners have done it again. Can you believe it? What a goal! An expert invasion into White Scrapper’s territory. Look at the smooth transaction between Rowan and Keith. I am left Speechless. No deking, No fancy moves, no hurried action, not even a single step out of the predestined mark. Just a Clean, smooth shot; let’s have a look at it. Ah! He hits the right spot every time. Despite the White Scrappers putting up a good fight with solid form, it was undeniably not their day. What a heart-wrenching loss.”

“The Royal Runners showcased their incredible talent, proving why they are the best. Their ferocity on the ice was commendable as they commanded the game, ultimately finishing 3-2, with Rowan netting the last goal, sealing their victory.”

“Yes, let’s not forget how beautifully Keith assisted him, which was crucial in executing their daring strategy. Their seamless collaboration was a sight to behold. They have burned it again. The rink was ablaze with excitement tonight, and the Royal Runners made their fans swell with pride. A hearty round of applause for their remarkable teamwork and relentless pursuit of excellence.”

Last night etched itself into the history of our University of Norilsk, as Rowan and Keith stood as proud representatives. They were among the last students from our university to be chosen for the NHL. We’ve been trying to change it but no one could make it to that side of the game for the last five years.

We all wish to change that. I’m currently in my second year of honors, determined to reach the greatest height in ice hockey myself.

Can’t help but replay that game in my mind, eager to learn from the best. Rowan, the G.O.A.T (Greatest of All Time), is a player I will never forget. The way he struck the puck last time was nothing short of magical. Boy! My mind is already gearing up to see Rowan in action again. It was wonderful, and I almost got chills when the thought of saving the team from an attack of that kind took over my mind.

I was born on the ice, have been playing Ice hockey since my childhood days and would love to choose death on ice over dying of old age on a creaky bed. Why wait for old age to juice out my energy and weaken my love for the ice?

My hometown has always been a realm of cold and the layers of black ice make it hard for us to enjoy the day with our new skates. The ore mining, especially the nickel one, has made it one of the significant industrial hubs, but the livelihood still remains arduous with biting wind for months and frozen arctic, making it difficult to see beyond the white landscape. The summers feel like a boon, it’s delightful to have it after months of relentless freezing, the 31°C temperature nestling us with its warm hands and delicious orange cloudberries.

My home is situated in the center of the town, a beautiful yellow apartment standing tall with its vibrant color, making it look like a bright sun on a large snowy surface. The residing places are situated closer, acting as a wall from the cold biting wind, and the mandatory heating appliances at home help us to get through the harsh weather for at least nine months. It’s quite fascinating how we manage in the northern part of Krasnoyarsk, a closed city where only a few are allowed.

Life was never easy, we just made it bearable. They say ‘man doesn’t live here, but survives’. I can keep going about my rugged yet beautiful city, just like I can go on about ice hockey but I have to focus on the game.

Craig, with the puck, is moving towards the right side, and I am sure Denis will take him over in no time. Chris is not far behind, and my mates are executing our reliably effective home strategy with deft precision, which we always have in store for cases like this.

Every time they strike the puck, I get tense, readying myself for the invisible swish which might end my day in a bad way. I can’t allow them to score. A grinding sound of the blades biting ice gets closer, and I take my position just before Craig raises his hand to score but is interrupted by Denis in the last second, hitting it to the off side.

We possess the skill and talent to be chosen for the real deal, the intercollegiate sports Association, and If we get the chance, we will. The desire to meet our heroes will always pump our blood with adrenaline and exhilaration.

They say I am the last-second goalie, I know why they don’t let me in, and I don’t care. I am in; that’s what matters. To be part of the team is a good deal; I know what I am, and I am confident the world will witness it someday through my eyes and my gameplay.

“Zenith, you look tired; your time is up. Step off the rink lad. Aron, it’s showtime.” Coach Dimitri whistled after his commanding voice echoed through the arena, a signal for my temporary departure.

Aron has been known for his good defending skills since his high school days and is a cherished member of our team. No one else did better enough to take his place, to fill his shoes. His eyes are as sharp as his jawline, and he moves swiftly enough to embarrass some of the top-level players. He taught me some of his remarkable techniques, and his easy-going, friendly aura always calmed everyone around him, a quality that I deeply admire.

I respect all my mates since they are good at whatever they enjoy doing, and I have learnt some woah icy ways of the rink from them.

I can spot Aron from a distance, stretching with focus before gliding on the ice; meanwhile, I take a swift exit to allow him to take the space in front of the net. He looks cool when he does it so effortlessly. Mental note taken.

Gripping the stick, roughing up the ice around the crease; he takes the position and prepares himself to defend it while I settle on the sidelines, waiting for my chance to return to the action.

It took years to finally be accepted the way I wanted myself to be. My feet have been running wild, defending left and right all throughout my school days until our coach saw something else, a talent of a different kind.

After much close observation he recognized my potential and finally acknowledged it. Though his keen insight came late I am glad he apologized for that.

Coach Dimitri elevated me from defenseman to Goaltender, the place I have always aspired to occupy. Holy moly! It still gives me sweet chills every time his words ring in my ears.

“Fine, but you will grind harder than you have been. If you fail, you are out. Show me that you are the cementing effect we need to catch the puck. You know the drill. I want them to call you ‘the wall’, understand”

Patting my back he said that loud and clear that day, enough for me to still feel the effect. Aye, Cappy! I won’t disappoint anyone this time.

Coach Dimitri, a man in his mid-40s with an astounding height of 6’4”, is empathetic, a bit moody and rough on the edges with a positive mindset, but this man can still give us a good beating on the rink.

We were a bunch of twenty members with five more juniors in case we decided to throw them in as well before the final decision of dressing them.

“Have you heard the news?”

The grin on Micah’s face is wider than his narrow chest. This guy was always made fun of for his silly attitude and short stature, not that I approve of it, but he was teased still behind my back.

I have no idea when this stealthy guy crept into the box sitting beside me. Well, Now that he is here, I would rather look at my shoes.

His grin is something I should take seriously. If it’s up and shiny we are up for the hottest topic, probably related to frozen water. He knows my game and he knows my passion.

I look back at Aron, who is banging the goalpost with his stick. Is there anything Aron does which is not impressive?

I didn’t acknowledge Micah’s presence, showing off how uninterested I was in whatever was going to come out of his mouth next; however, I was very interested. Gotta keep a cool guy act flying at every moment.

“We are going to organize the Ice hockey league between the Universities of Norilsk and moscow, kind of a face-off.” He leaned in, wiggling his brows funnily, his signature style, before dropping the glad tidings.

“Guess the chief guest?” He doesn’t even let me think for a few seconds before blurting out. What a bore. I don’t mind shutting him up with crass words; he won’t care, either.

“None other than RCA team manager Adrey Gorsky”

Puff, that is the least interesting thing I heard this morning. “Old news Micah, tell me the trendy part.”

My Focus is never off the rink; my fellow members are playing well, and I am trying to understand their moves before the next whistle.

“The rumor is he will be here to choose amateurs for further national and international leagues, to train them for the big glacier. You have to make a good impression, Zenith”. he speaks as his eyes twinkle like firebugs, girls find it cute; I don’t, and the description is weird.

“You don’t sound happy.” He points, his eyes stop twinkling the very moment. Glad for that.

“Why should I be dancing around for just rumors? No one wastes energy for something that’s still in the air. Bring something solid. Words that weigh tons”

“Wait for the coach to say it again, loud enough to confirm it”, he says with a grin.

Can I have the Cheshire cat instead?

“What do you mean?” he got my attention now when the grin just became wider and scary, so ask him right away.

“Now that I have your eyes and mind on me, can you open Go Zeeke and look for the titbits on the Nor ize hockey page? It’s all over the platform. Where were you last night? In the black hole”, he laughs at his own joke, rendering me to look back at where Aron is standing whose legs are bent at odd angles and the struggle to keep the posture intact is visible.

“Zeeke is not my go-to zone during matches or ever. I don’t enjoy gossip or degrading ideas, not my skates on the rink. I trust your words, buddy, your pockets are always filled with little truths for the world”

“This is your chance to move upwards and touch the sky, Zenith. Make it to the end of the tunnel; Win it, impress Andrey and the world is yours.”

“You want me to win?”

“Yes, you can”

“This is the first time I have heard something worth trying for. Inspirational words from you are rare but can I have the ice instead?”

“Man! Can you stop your obsession with the ice and focus”, he sprouts annoyingly.

“If there is anything I want badly, it’s to own the ice and all its power. Won’t stop until I do it and he will see why I did it,” the words replay in my mind, and I push it sideways to focus on the players in front of me.

“Aron is not better yet, the last injury took a toll on his health. Look, he is already gasping for air; the pain is evident on his face. He won’t last. I don’t know how we will fight for the trophy. I need to burn my back to cover for both of us.”

Micah clicks his tongue, giving me a pitiful smile, “ Think for yourself only or else you will be left behind with only dirt in your hand to cry for.”

“Why do you think so, Micah? We belong to same team”, unknowingly, I point towards my fellow mates gliding on the rink.

“You are not aggressive enough like him, Zenith.” He points towards Aron before adding further, “Burn whatever you want to during the process. Patience, you have loads, but we need burning coal on ice, the long-running fire that will ignite at the right time, and you lack it. You have everything except the rage. Develop more skills and gain confidence.”

I have to give it to this guy, forget the gossiping immaturity; he has an eye for the shine just like his father; after all, he has been watching his father polishing players for decades. Micah is cunning, a guy one should never mess with, a sucker for blood baths.

“I hate violence and sports brings people together. This is just a game, even if Ice hockey is my life, my post doesn’t need me to be aggressive. Calculating my moves and stepping according to the opponent’s move is what I should be focusing on.”

“That’s exactly what an aggressive player does. You have to look a bit angry to intimidate those you will fight against. You have been playing for years. Now that you have your favourite spot, make it count”, he explains

“Nope, not gonna happen. I will play my style, no need to change it”

“Then you are in for a little surprise, my buddy; we will be fighting against the infamous Kyrov siblings this time. They are ruthless on and off the rink. Demotivating, yeah, not my motive though, just a little warning from your well-wisher”, he warns

“Huh”

“Calculate as much as you want. Those speed runners are hard to detect, and you can never read what’s in their minds until the puck crosses the goal line. You have to strengthen your guard. Ice hockey is a physically demanding game. You can lay out as much as you want, but they will bring out the monster within you. One missed chance and those beasts will feast upon your insecurities. Be smart, Zenith Addams. If you want to be on top, you have to crush others.”

Why does it feel like he is not talking about me anymore?

“You seem to know too much Micah.

“Because I happened to see too much”