In my illustrious five year career as an NHL goaltender, I've never had the opportunity to play in the toss up crap shoot that is the shootout for a few reasons.
Number one, rubber never gets passed me.
"But Wyatt, you have a .84o save percentage with a 4.59 goals against average."
For that garbage response I have a simple answer: The only way a puck finds the back of my net is if my teammates let me down somewhere along the way, which obviously happens a lot. If it's just me against some greasy shmuck i'm taggin' and baggin' that wimpy wrister ten time out of ten. Honest to God, it pisses me off when these AHL-caliber losers even try without some sort of screen in front of me.
Reason number two is that my teammates know damn well they're taking my goalie twig straight to the ear-hole if they can't finish it off in overtime. Winning in overtime is like making it to Sizzler right before closing only to realize you're getting the scraps and the cornbread is probably gone. It's mediocrity rewarded. I want a game secured before the second intermission so I can set up my reservation for the post game munch at the Olive Garden (They say they don't take rezzies but being in the NHL pays).
The boys didn't believe my threats until I caught Tyler Seguin with a nasty whack while he was typing out a dumb Instagram caption on a black and white selfie after blowing it in Arizona in front their packed house of 47 fans. He shaped up real quick by leaving the selfies in the past and buried the game winner in the very next game. He really couldn't post selfies anyway on account of the nasty scar I left, but let's just assume he took the lesson to heart.
Needless to say, the shootout experience was new to me and an experience that I wasn't particularly looking forward too. That was until I realized it was quite literally a dream come true; just me against some shmucks.
The sweet satisfaction of dominating in the shootout was even sweeter coming against the defending Stanley Cup champions. What I focused on was channeling the spirit of the lanky yet effective Malaysian Sun bear. No explanation needed.
Literally the only person who scored on me was myself which I did to prove to the coaching staff that I could start on the second line if the injuries start to pile up.
Moving forward I might let in a few softies to get the game into a shootout just to feel that high powered adrenaline rush again. Maybe after I bag a few cups I'll bounce from team to team as a shootout specialist because God knows Dallas doesn't pay me enough to stay around here.
-30-
Komentar