Every Goalies Secret

Away from the rink

Summer came with a plan.

No ice. No pads. No early mornings.
Greece. Family. Sun.
He had earned it.

For three weeks it worked.
He swam. He ate. He sat with his grandparents on the terrace.

He didn’t mention hockey once.

Neither did I.

Then one evening

A message. From Greece.

“Can I join summer ice when I’m back?”

I waited for the rest.

“As a skater. Not as a goalie.”

I knew that feeling

He loves the crease. That part is real.
The saves. The focus. The weight of it.

But somewhere underneath all that gear lives a twelve-year-old
who still dreams of scoring.
Of being Crosby for a shift.
Of shooting, not stopping.

Goalies don’t talk about that much.

At the rink

His old gear still fit. Mostly.
His skates didn’t.

He laced up his mother’s.
Didn’t complain. Didn’t explain.

He skated with the forwards.
Fell twice. Scored once.

I stood behind the glass.
Same spot as always.

This time, I watched him chase the puck.

Comments are welcome when they share experience or recognition from a parent’s perspective. Coaching, analysis, or performance advice are intentionally left out here.