The atmosphere of the building was hectic. The cheering made a piercing noise: one my ears could barely perceive. I felt the blood rushing throughout my body, my muscles tensed up and my breath shortened. The game was on my stick. I looked down on the puck and attempted to tune out the unbearable noise created by the rowdy crowd. I imagined a perfect scenario: scoring an elegant goal on the goalie.
Upon finishing my visualization, I skated toward the puck that stood idly on the centre ice dot. I gained such speed that the contact created by the blade of my stick meeting the puck was cataclysmic. The puck felt heavy on my stick: like I was pushing a boulder up the ice. Suddenly, the goalie was right in front of me. The crowd noise was louder than ever. Like shock therapy: the surprise of the crowd noise and the pressure of the moment forced my body to take the shot on the net. The puck flew in slow motion like this was a climactic scene in a Hollywood movie. The sight of the puck striking the mesh of the net was exhilarating. For a brief moment, the crowd was as silent as a graveyard. The synapses in my brain were firing. The realization that I had just scored the biggest goal of my life was starting to hit me. I glided off the ice feeling accomplished, Thanking God for the favourable outcome.
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