More Than a Game Anonymous

As the puck becomes tangled beneath my skates, my body tenses, and I frantically brace for the inevitable destruction. My senses are acutely alert to the heavy breathing that radiates from the opposing player barreling toward my backside. While this pulsing sensation skips wildly along the raised hairs on my neck, I quickly resort to an impossible means of escape by “C-curling” toward the enclosing boards, abandoning the puck altogether; unfortunately, my attempted getaway is merely wasted effort. I gasp for air as if I am about to be submerged underwater. Glass flashes brilliantly across my eyes. Sharp pain races up my left side. Frozen numbness harshly grips my shoulder. In a brief moment, I am lying lifelessly on the blood-spattered ice, trying to recollect my spilling mind. This physical collision is the beginning of a downward psychological spiral, but I will eventually ascend from its depths.

Scraping myself awkwardly off the ice, I struggle over the boards and collapse on the bench with my equipment strewn about me, fully intending to skate again. As a pure-bred hockey player, my natural instinct to play under any circumstance takes immediate precedence over my common sense. However, my innate desire to keep playing is...