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"Sunday Mourning" (Poem) - The Misadventures of Little Rudger

(Scene: A local hockey rink on a Sunday morning. A ceremonial puck drop takes place at the beginning of the game to commemorate the passing of a player's grandfather. Their entire family is in the stands watching. You are the goaltender on the opposing team.)

Final minute of the game. The score is tied. Your team has the other team "on the ropes" down in their end of the ice. Passing the puck back and forth to each other while players on the other team react helplessly.

Your team shoots the puck. 

Clank! It hits the post and bounces out towards neutral ice.

20 seconds left.

A player on the opposing team jumps ahead of the pack and reaches the puck. There's no one in between him and your own team's goal except for you. Your job is to stop the puck from entering the net to support your team.

...

The other player approaches. 

He shoots.

...

You flinch and raise your glove to catch the puck.

...

You miss.

...

...

...

The puck goes in.

The other player shouts with the excitement of a kid who just got exactly what he asked for on Christmas morning. 


The family in the stands explode out of their seats and cheer wildly while the player who just scored skates towards them and celebrates. 

 
The player who scored the game winning goal in the final seconds of the game was the player who's late grandfather was honored before the game.

...

...

...

...

...

Back in the locker room, your teammate gives you shit for letting in the game losing goal. The same guy who clanked the post in the final seconds when your team had the other team in a panic near the end of the game. Yes, that guy. Your own so-called "teammate" wants to remind you where you messed up while deflecting any and all responsibility for himself for missing the prior shot and not hustling to get back on defense.

"You let us down, man." he says scornfully.

You think back to a few minutes ago as you were skating off the rink in the far corner where the little machine that cleans the surface of the ice comes in, and where you and all your teammates exit. As you skated past the family in the crowd, you remember how they stood and clapped with respect as you and your team left the rink. You sit for a moment and think about the smiles on their faces, and the show of immense joy expressed by the opposing team's fans when the game-winning goal was scored dramatically in the waning seconds of the game by a kid who had recently lost his Grandfather. 

You remember that hockey is ultimately just a sport. A kid's game. It's supposed to be about fun and entertainment. Something to help people momentarily forget about the serious or depressing aspects of life.

...

...

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"Yeah, I guess I did." you say to your teammate. 

And then you simply smile back.