Before two minutes had passed, Tony Goldina scored. Greta had to cover her ears as the fans screamed, and the theme song blared. Brandon got an assist.
Brandon concentrated on playing the best hockey of his life. His game instincts took over, as the game went on, and Kyle scored a goal. The Ice Bandits led 2-0 at the second intermission.
Twenty more minutes, and the Cup would be theirs.
Fans were riveted to their seats as the third period began. Greta didn’t move, except to stand and yell her brains out when Tony scored again to make it 3-0.
The Ice Bandits played their best game of the year, when they needed to. The fans recognized this, and began shouting and cheering nonstop as the minutes ticked down.
Two minutes left in the game. No way could San Jose score three goals and tie, four goals and win. This was it.
The Ice Bandits were about to win their first Stanley Cup in twenty-eight years.
Brandon was near mid-ice when time ran out, and the final buzzer sounded. He stood right next to Zach, his longtime buddy, and Tony Goldina, whose eyes were puddled up.
The fans screamed, and waved their hands, as the players embraced.
Greta burst into tears.
Brandon was close to tears himself as he hugged Zach, his longtime teammate. They’d come up through the minors together and started with the Ice Bandits at about the same time. All the worries, wondering if they’d get sent back down to the minors, the aches and pains and bruises…it all melted away at this moment, this spectacular moment.
Hugging. Shouting. Talking. Brandon couldn’t make out what was being said, but it didn’t matter.
Vyto, wearing all his goalie equipment, cried with joy as he hugged Brandon. He was saying something in Lithuanian. Brandon guessed it was joyful words. And then Vyto shouted, in his Lithuanian accent, “We dood it! We dood it!”
Other players, and a lot of the fans too, heard his joyful rant, and took up the cry. “We dood it!”
The Ice Bandits were the champions.
And then the fun part began.
Tony Goldina got the trophy, MVP in the Final.
Everything was happening so fast, like pictures flashing.
Before anyone could catch their breath, a group of men in suits and white gloves came out carrying that big silver cup.
Brandon gasped as he lay eyes on the Stanley Cup. This was it. The Cup belonged to him and his teammates.
“Kyle MacDonald, claim the Stanley Cup.”
Brandon watched his team captain skate to the gleaming cup, where the guys in suits stood. They wore white gloves. Brandon had never seen men wear white gloves, except in photos of the Cup and its keepers, but this wasn’t a photo.
This was the real thing. This was really happening.
Kyle picked up the heavy Cup. He kissed it. He raised it above his head, and let out a big yell.
He skated around the Arena ice, showing the Cup to the Ice Bandits’ fans who shouted in appreciation.
Greta strained to get a look at the Cup, that Cup that meant so much to Brandon.
Soon, Brandon would get his turn to celebrate with the Cup.
“Goldy, where are you?” Kyle called Tony Goldina, who had scored the winning goal. “Here. I have something for you.”
Brandon watched Tony accept the Cup. He was in tears. A number of fans, who rooted for the thirty-four year old, looked to be crying too.
Where was Greta? Was she crying? What did she think of this, the capture of the Stanley Cup?
Emotions flooded through Brandon. This was the moment he’d wished for since he was four years old, on the pond in Pickle Lake. Leaving home at fourteen to play his beloved game. Living with a new family, who were so good to him and put up with his homesickness and his practices and his devotion to his game. The ups and downs through the junior hockey, and being drafted by the Ice Bandits at seventeen. The minors. His first NHL game. His past two seasons, his rookie year, and last year, when the Ice Bandits were eliminated in the second round of the playoffs, and that hurt so bad.
And the roller coaster ride of this season. The Olympics. Losing his fiancée. And finding a new woman.
His entire life seemed to flash before him in a blur. All of the work, and the body aches, the heartaches, and the wondering if he was good enough, all came to a head now. This moment made it all worth it.
He heard someone calling his name. Tony Goldina.
“Taylor? Sparky, they call you. Sparky, here. Present for you.”
Brandon reached for the Cup. It was heavier than he thought, and Tony made sure he got a good grip on it. He looked at it, not believing this was the real Stanley Cup in his hands.
The Cup shone bright silver in the Arena lights. He could vaguely make out some engraving, tiny letters, hundreds of names of the players who had also earned this Cup. His name would be engraved on this Cup too.
He kissed the Cup. Then he, too, raised it above his head and let out a holler they could have heard all the way to San Jose.
Brandon felt like he was flying.
And was that Greta, standing over there, waving to him?
He lifted the Cup as high as he could as he skated to her section to show her. What would she, the jewelry expert, think of all that engraving?
Then he gave the Cup to Zach Lambert. “Here, Zach. Sparky got something for you.”
Each player, and each coach, got his turn with the Cup. Coach Jock smiled from ear to ear, a sight not seen too often, and cameras flashed.
Brandon heard Coach talking in French. Happy talk. Not swearing this time, this night of nights.
Then all of the players posed with the Cup. Brandon and Zach sat close together for the picture.
Some of the players’ kids couldn’t wait to get on the ice. Tony’s two sons were the first ones out, before all the picture taking was over.
Tony laughed, and embraced his boys. He held the younger in his arms, and took the older by the hand, and showed them the Cup.
Brandon knew exactly what to do next. He had to share this spectacular moment with the one he loved. Who loved him, too. By showing, not telling.
His eyes roamed the stands, filled with Ice Bandits fans trying to get a closer view of their heroes and the Stanley Cup.
Vyto and Daina stood near the Cup, kissing. Zach and Lauren, arms around each other, admired the Cup. Coach Jock and his family stood nearby.
Then he spotted her. Greta Patton, in her blue Ice Bandits sweater, holding her cell phone high.
Her eyes filled with tears when she saw him skating toward her.
Brandon reached her, and they held each other tight.
He held this wonderful woman who stuck by him through all the craziness, who taught him how to trust another person; not a teammate, but a woman.
Great looked up at him, and pulled on his blue “Stanley Cup Champions” cap. “Congratulations, champ,” she told him.
He kissed her, long and tenderly.
Brandon Taylor savored this greatest moment of his life. He won a Stanley Cup with his team. Best of all, he won the heart of Greta Patton.
Life just couldn’t get any better.
Epilogue.
“Nice shiner, eh?”
A crowd of about one hundred thousand Ice Bandits fans jammed the Daley Plaza and the surrounding area to see their heroes celebrate winning the Stanley Cup. Kyle MacDonald was at the mike, showing off his big black eye.
“But you should see the other guy!”
The fans cheered and screamed.
Brandon sat with his teammates. He hadn’t had any sleep since the morning of that last game, and he guessed most of the guys were in the same boat.
But he didn’t care. He was on top of the world. The Ice Bandits were the champions. He watched his team captain hoist the beautiful silver cup for all the fans to see, as they all screamed even louder.
All their names would be engraved on the Cup. And everyone responsible for this spectacular season would receive a diamond-
studded championship ring. Plus there were the awards. Kyle was up for MVP, and Brandon was a finalist for the Norris Trophy, given to the best defenseman in the NHL.
The Ice Bandits organization decided to let a local outfit take part in designing the rings. Brandon suggested South Side Precious Metals. The front office recalled the story about the jewelry designer who made sure that old man got his money’s worth for his rare coin, and accepted Brandon’s suggestion.
Mr. Blakely would never mention layoffs again.
This was the absolute greatest moment of Brandon’s life. But an even bigger moment was coming up soon, before the players left the podium and the fans dispersed. He had planned this big moment, and a bunch of the players were in on it too.
“Please welcome the guy who scored an assist, the one we call Sparky…”
Kyle didn’t have to finish the sentence. The fans called his name, “Taylor!” and Brandon made his way to the podium.
Brandon looked out on the sea of faces, young and old, people wearing the silver and blue Ice Bandits colors, waving placards that read, “We dood it!” Vyto’s comment had become the Ice Bandits’ motto, adopted by the fans.
He lost his thoughts for a moment. He’d never seen so many people in his life, not at the Olympics, not at any sporting event.
And all eyes were on him.
“What could be better?” he asked the crowd. “I ask you, what could be better than this?”
The fans yelled. He turned his head for a brief second, and thought he saw Greta, sitting with the wives and girlfriends, off in the back.
“I can tell you what can be better.” Brandon’s voice rose. He gripped both sides of the podium. “Winning once is sweet. So sweet. But how does it feel to win a second year in a row?”
Brandon had to laugh. If he said “I gotta take a leak,” he guessed the fans would yell and scream as loud as ever.
“See you back here next year! Same time, same place!”
He waved to the fans, and motioned Tony Goldina to take the stand. He got the biggest hand of the day.
Brandon took his seat and listened to his teammates come up and speak. He kept going over and over a speech in his head. The easy part was finished now. He talked to the hundred thousand fans. But now, he became nervous about a speech he had planned to follow the rally. A speech meant for one special person.
The rally ended far too soon. The fans seemed reluctant to leave, calling the names of their favorites. Brandon’s hands began to shake. Now was his time.
Zach nudged him. “Ready, Sparky?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He patted his front pants pocket, to be sure a certain box was there.
It was.
Some of the wives and girlfriends walked over to the players, thinking the rally was over. Then Zach spoke, in behalf of his buddy.
“We have one more piece of business to settle here today. And it’s up to Brandon to do it.” He smiled, as a few other players gathered behind him to watch the fun.
The fans in the front row stopped, curious to see what was next.
Zach motioned Greta to come forward, to where Brandon stood.
Brandon took her by the hand and led her to the front of the platform. She wasn’t sure what was going on. She stared at Brandon.
He took a deep breath, and began talking.
“It’s been a long season. So much has happened. We had our wins and losses. The usual ups and downs of a hockey season. We had the Olympics. Some of us had personal stuff going on. But we all banded together and won. It’s been quite a ride.”
A few fans hooted and hollered.
Brandon continued, “This season was so memorable for me, in so many ways. One I’ll never forget. I loved this season. And one great big thing that happened to me was meeting my girl, Greta.”
“Awww,” someone in the crowd said.
Brandon got down on one knee. Greta gaped at him.
“Greta, you shared all the crazy times. You encouraged me. You gave me good times, and quiet times when I needed them. And best of all, you gave me trust. You taught me to trust. I trust my teammates to be there when I need them. And now I know, you will be there when I need you. You showed me this.”
Tears streamed down Greta’s face. She covered her mouth.
And then Brandon removed the little grey box from his pocket, opened the box, and displayed his grandmother’s gold ring.
“Greta, I love you. Will you marry me?”
She couldn’t talk. A fan hollered, “Say yes!” The other members of the Ice Bandits family anxiously awaited her reply.
Finally, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course! Yes, I’ll marry you, Brandon!”
The young couple embraced as the fans, once again, cheered and applauded, along with the people gathered at the platform.
Brandon and Greta held each other for a long moment.
Then Zach stepped forward. “Put the ring on her finger, Sparky, before you lose it!”
Brandon took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger.
Greta kissed him, a good long kiss, and the audience hooted.
Still clinging to Brandon, she held up her left hand with the new ring. The gold ring glimmered in the sun, reflecting light from Lord Stanley’s Cup.
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