hockey night in canada
for patrick hunt
early on no one scored
and it stayed like that
for about the first thirty minutes
then a couple of goals snuck in
i got a beauty
there was a mad scramble
in front of the net
and it was one of those ongoing things
someone would blast it in
and the goalie would make the save
and then a defenceman
would pounce on the puck
my goal came off of a rebound
i got to it first
the goalie was sprawled
and there was hardly any room
but i was able to get it over him
and put it up on the roof
it was pretty
the game went back and forth
for some time
but then
as time was winding down
i got another break
i took off
and the hounds of hell could not have caught me
ed dick flicked a soft pass
out between the two defencemen
and i was off
it was like i had a rocket booster
in my asshole
because i was the goddamned fucking wind
i caught the puck at the red line
and the two big defenders
were right beside me
about five feet apart
but that was all
i felt a stick to each ankle
not a bad stick
or a mean stick
but a "christ michael,
slow down!" stick
because you're going to make us look bad
it always looks bad
when the team drunk outskates someone
and this time
i was outskating everyone
lightning wouldn't have caught me
i was speed
i was destiny
i was skating down from center
and in all alone
with every wish
of every boy
who ever laced a skate
i was howe and hull
beliveau and richard
paul henderson against the russians
i was bobby orr
scoring the stanley cup winner
against the st. louis blues
i was george armstrong
the old chief
hitting that empty net
the last time the leafs won in '67
i was gretzky and lemieux
skating down on that poor red son of a bitch
with destiny throwing me a glad hand
and a ticket to siberia
for that borscht - eating bastard
i hit the blueline
like a freight train
hitting a fruit wagon
i hit the blueline like
mario fucking andretti
hitting the gas hard
i hit the blueline
like a snake
coiled for the strike
you never see
i hit the blueline
at the speed of sound
and was gaining
on the speed of light
i heard every cheer
of every fan
from every game
from the beginning of time
to eternity
and they were all on their feet
and rocking
and i may never have been good before
and i may never be good again
but i was great
i was flying
i was soaring
i was a bird
in perfect and natural grace
sweeping out and down from the heavens
whistling beethoven's fifth out of my asshole
while painting the mona lisa with my toes
i was on my back
and doing what michelangelo did in the chapel
i was great caesar's ghost and then some
i was grace and beauty
and the goalie didn't have a chance
he had no more chance
than a bird in the wind
at hiroshima
he had no more chance
than the blonde
in the opening scene of "jaws"
just beautiful shark food
he had no more chance
than a drink
in a thirsty man's hand
i came down on him
like the charge of the light brigade
down on him like a herd of buffalo
before the white man came
and pissed it all away
i came down on him
and made a move to my backhand
that left him and his equipment
wishing they were in another place
wishing they were anywhere other than here
wishing he had someplace to hide
because this goddamned short
fucking drunk bastard
is going to kill me
he is my murderer
and my assassin
and my end and my destiny
and he is not going to leave me
anything but the memory
of the net i once protected
he is going to disgrace me
and every save i ever made
all of it wiped out
in one move
that was so pure
and so perfect
so made for this moment
that the goalie might as well
have not been there
because this was written
before we put on our skates
before we were born
it was written
when the fish crawled out of the sea
and asked for directions
it was written
when those hairy french cave men
first put something on a wall
i faked to my left
to my backhand
and for all i know
the goalie is still wondering
where i went
because i went by him
like a thought
i went by him
like he didn't exist
and then i put that fucker in the corner
as sweet as ali let foreman
know what destiny is all about
a little kiss to the back of the net
as sweet as doctor J.
dunkin' it with his glorious, glorious beauty
i was still traveling
at the speed of two lovers
trying to make that moment
i was still going fast enough
to go through the end boards
standing up
but that couldn't happen
it would all be for naught
if the ending wasn't as perfect
as the rest
i turned on a dime
as i grazed the boards
i was on rails
i was a slot car
a train
i was everything
you always dreamed it could be
in the dressing room
guys from both teams congratulated me
each sharing in what they knew
was unlikely to happen again
and each just a little pleased
for having been part of it
the goalie mentioned
that he remembered the goal
from the scramble
but not the breakaway
and i am not surprised
if i thought i was dreaming
maybe we all were
maybe it didn't happen
maybe the roar i heard
was blood pounding
in my southern comfort cured brain
but i don't think so
i felt it
it was pure
and real
and it happened
just like i said
every word
as true as it gets
Copyright© michael dennis
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