Fitzgerald Imitation Piece

There was a brilliant gleam of light that struck the center of the ice surface as we entered the building. In the building, we all ran around and stretched in synchrony like soldiers that marched together and prepared to face war. Before we faced adversity, preparation was essential as we expected and dealt with the possibility of injury and we were physically ready with victory in mind. In a small room, equipment slipped on easily and without thought as focus was so ever present in an atmosphere of blood thirsty soldiers. And in the moment, no distraction shifted our emotionless visages away from the battlefield; our heavy steps lead us toward the battlefield.

    Every one of our brains were wired for a relentless fight until victory. A light breeze hit our faces as the edges of our war machines adjusted to the foreign surface.

    At least the logistics of the game and strategies were familiar as we practiced and created muscle memory. After the period of adjustment, the front line got into position, and the rest of us watched anxiously as we expected the first gunshot to graze the side of a soldier’s face. After the time ticked down, shot after shot was blasted and many intently hit the enemy as both parties tried to gain an advantage.

    By late evening, a mere two shots from each party have hit target. Soldiers have grown exhausted as time is ticking and with each significant time stamp, a low pitched but ear piercing noise infiltrates our bodies. The fight seems endless but the joy coming from our passion for the activity pushes us towards the victory line, and the adrenaline from our excitement gives us the advantage.

    Pressure builds up on the opponents as we slowly crush their reinforcements and run through them like ghosts gliding hastily. Their strides become quicker and their legs tremble from the butterflies building up in their stomachs. Our lightning fast attack floods their defense with strikes of blazing shots directed straight towards their core: where it hurts the most.

    Suddenly, all attention shifts to me as I swiftly maneuver my way through the opposition like a butterfly. I snipe the puck past the goalie and an electric roar fills the building. The hockey game has ended.