Whack. Thump.
Whack. Thump.
Whack. Ping.
Whack. Thump.
Whack. HORN. Red lights. Whoops.

It's a strange thing being a goalie. Your job is to defy the instinct to jump the fuck out of the way of objects hurtling toward you at breakneck speed. The reward is bruises, because no matter how much padding you have, sometimes that thing hurts.
Every time you make a mistake, a big red light goes off over your head and everyone stops and thinks about it.
I love every minute.
Being a goalie is being a man alone on a team. It's the power to change the game, win it or lose it, all by myself.
Flashing pads and highway robberies with the glove. One-timers across the crease and slapshots way harder than you should ever have to get in front of, breakaways and power plays and jumping on rebounds.

It's a hell of a game.
Join me sometime.