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He's numb, dragging his arms though molasses.
He'd always been good at blocking out the white of the ice, and too bright lights. Always been good about letting the crowd fall away until all he could hear was the skichs skitch of metal blades, the wooden thunk of the stick against the puck. He could let all the distractions fall away and focus on the game in front of him like there was no world outside of the rink lain out before him. the cold air mad it hard to feel things sometimes, but it also made the weight of his gear flout away under the arctic air.
but he didn't think he'd ever fought so hard to get his limbs to do as they where told, never struggled to get his glove up like this before.
okay - maybe when he first starting to realize he was a decent goalie. the first time it had been pointed out to him he;d frozen as cold as the water under his skates. but that had been so long ago. why was tonight different?
it wasn't just his limbs, but his thoughts. he could follow the puck, but he seemed to be struggling to remember why that was important.
just so long as he remembered to keep it out of the netting behind him. as long as he could remember that.
he wasn't sure why he needed to, just that his team looked at him so disappointed when he missed. it tore him up, even more so than the nagging about something being off in his arms. the more he thought about it, the harder it was to move.
just .. don't think about it anymore.
just don't think.
just.
just.
When had the bright rink lights turned off? He was in shoes. standing no longer on rough ice, but smooth cement.
Just don't think about it anymore.
"'sup AZ?"
He'd always been good at blocking out the white of the ice, and too bright lights. Always been good about letting the crowd fall away until all he could hear was the skichs skitch of metal blades, the wooden thunk of the stick against the puck. He could let all the distractions fall away and focus on the game in front of him like there was no world outside of the rink lain out before him. the cold air mad it hard to feel things sometimes, but it also made the weight of his gear flout away under the arctic air.
but he didn't think he'd ever fought so hard to get his limbs to do as they where told, never struggled to get his glove up like this before.
okay - maybe when he first starting to realize he was a decent goalie. the first time it had been pointed out to him he;d frozen as cold as the water under his skates. but that had been so long ago. why was tonight different?
it wasn't just his limbs, but his thoughts. he could follow the puck, but he seemed to be struggling to remember why that was important.
just so long as he remembered to keep it out of the netting behind him. as long as he could remember that.
he wasn't sure why he needed to, just that his team looked at him so disappointed when he missed. it tore him up, even more so than the nagging about something being off in his arms. the more he thought about it, the harder it was to move.
just .. don't think about it anymore.
just don't think.
just.
just.
When had the bright rink lights turned off? He was in shoes. standing no longer on rough ice, but smooth cement.
Just don't think about it anymore.
"'sup AZ?"
