The sound of skates cutting through the ice echoed through the rink as I stepped onto the ice, the adrenaline pumping through my veins. It was the Can/Am tournament in Lake Placid, the ultimate stage for amateur hockey players, and I was ready to leave my mark. I was on my way to a hockey tournament in upstate New York, Lake Placid. I was so excited because the tournament was known for being one of the most prestigious and competitive amateur hockey events in the country. I was always drawn to the intense pressure and excitement of the tournament, knowing that it would be the perfect opportunity to showcase my skills and potentially catch the eye of scouts. 

The crisp, winter air filled my lungs as I stepped out of the car and onto the snow-covered pavement. I could feel my heart racing with anticipation, my mind buzzing with thoughts of the impending tournament. The snowflakes danced around me, coating the world in a blanket of white. It was as if the snow was trying to hide the pressure and intensity of the tournament, but I could feel it in my bones. The stakes were high and I was ready to give it my all. As we made our way to the hotel, the trees stood tall and proud, their branches draped in a veil of snow. The landscape was so picturesque, it almost felt surreal. But amidst the beauty, there was an underlying sense of nervousness and excitement. This was my second time going to this tournament and my team lost in the semi-finals. So, I needed to get revenge after that devastating loss. There were a lot of mixed emotions inside my brain whether I am thrilled or anxious to be here because I cannot deny the fact that this is one the biggest hockey tournaments in the country.

Finally after 6 hours of driving we finally arrived at our destination. We were exhausted and wanted to go to sleep. Luckily, I had no game today, so I can get a good sleep and have enough energy for tomorrow’s game. As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and apprehension. The tournament was both a blessing and a curse, an opportunity to showcase my skills and potentially catch the eye of scouts, but also a test of my resilience and determination. But I was ready. I had trained hard, prepared myself mentally and physically, and I was ready to face whatever challenges came my way. 

 I left Thursday afternoon and have two games on Friday, two games on Saturday and possibly a game on Sunday if we make it to the gold medal game or bronze medal game. During the first game, the other goalie on my team played the first half of the game and mid game we split, making us each play half a game. We easily won against the opposing team, Flyers Youth, in a great 5-0. The second game we won 4-1 against the Connecticut Rangers. We also split that game. 

On Saturday, there was a skills clinic and I was chosen by the coaches to go. I wasn’t very good at letting up two goals. They were giving awards to players who won at their respective skill. For example, there is the hardest shot competition, the most accurate shot competition, speed competition and breakaway challenge. This made me a little anxious for the games that came ahead. It made me second guess myself. I tried getting all the negative thoughts out of my head and started thinking about the saves that I will make for my team. During the third game, we won 3-1 against the Vermont Bears. The other goalie played the entire game and played extremely well. Now it was my turn to play. The game against the Penguins was a late night game and before the game the other time was mocking my team warming up. It didn’t matter because we obliterated them 8-3. The other team's goalie had a really unlucky and bad game causing their team to lose. 

I can't believe it, we made it to the finals! I've been working so hard for this moment, and it's finally here. But thinking about it is making my head hurt and my stomach ache a little bit. The pressure is really starting to get to me. I keep thinking about all the things that could go wrong during the game. What if I make a mistake and cost the team the championship? What if I don't play as well as I know I can? The what-ifs are driving me crazy. I know I need to try to calm down and get some rest before the big game tomorrow. So, I put my headphones on and started to play some music. My mom helped me with deep breathing exercises to help me relax. I need to remind myself that I'm here for a reason, and that my hard work and dedication have brought me to this point. I also need to focus on the positive. We've had a great season so far, and I know we have what it takes to win the championship. I just need to stay focused, stay positive, and play my best. But for now, I'll try to get some sleep and hope that the excitement and nerves don't keep me up all night. Tomorrow is a big day, and I need to be at my best.

As I woke up in the hotel room, I felt like it was just another day. It was strange to think that in just a few hours, I would be playing in the biggest game of my life. But I didn't want to let the pressure get to me. So, I got up and did my usual morning routine. First, I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Then, I went down to the hotel restaurant and had a good breakfast, making sure to eat foods that would give me energy for the game. I had eggs, toast, and a fruit salad, along with a glass of orange juice. 

After breakfast, I went back to my room to relax and focus. I put on some music and did some visualization exercises. I imagined myself making great saves and stopping all the shots that would come my way. I also did certain goalie exercises to help with hand eye coordination such as bouncing a tennis ball against the wall and catching in front of me. I also made sure that all my equipment was dry and ready for the game. Doing this really helped to boost my confidence and gave me the mental edge that I needed going into the game. I also did some goalie-specific exercises to help me prepare. I bounced a tennis ball against the wall and caught it with my glove hand, working on my hand-eye coordination. I did some quick footwork drills and practiced my positioning, making sure that I was always in the right place to make a save.

 Finally, I made sure that all of my equipment was dry and ready for the game. I checked that my pads were properly strapped on, that my helmet was secure, and that my gloves and blocker were in good condition. It was important to me that everything was in perfect order, so I could focus on the game and not on my gear. Overall, I felt really good about my preparation for the game. I had taken the time to get in the right headspace and to physically prepare myself for the challenges ahead. Now, it was just a matter of going out on the ice and giving it my all.

While driving to the rink, I was taking deep breaths, trying not to think about the negative situations, but of course that was the only thing I could think of. How can we even lose this game?, I thought to myself. We beat this team in a statement win, 5-0. However, it is the championship and the team will play the hardest to win the game. These circumstances are common in the NHL (National Hockey League). For example, the Tampa Bay Lightning were the best team in the league 128 points, while the Columbus Blue Jackets were the worst to make the playoffs. Everytime the Lightning played the Blue Jackets, the Lightning won every game. However, in the playoffs the Blue Jackets won 4 consecutive games, without a single loss, meaning they swept the Lightning. What makes it even worse for our team is that the Lightning needed 4 wins to eliminate the Blue Jackets and had so many chances throughout the series, but they folded. Unlike them, we only have one and if we lose, it will be devastating and embarrassing. 

As I peered outside the window, I saw that the world was blanketed in a layer of pristine white snow, like a freshly painted canvas. The frigid air was so cold that it felt as if the car's heating system had given up and gone on strike. Despite my best efforts to look calm and collected, my nerves were starting to get the better of me. My mom, ever perceptive, noticed the worry etched on my face, even though I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it. She reached over and put a reassuring hand on my shouldn’t. 

She says in a calming voice, “Don’t worry, Kyle. You will do great. Think of it as a regular game. You have been good all tournament, why do you think you will be bad now? Don’t think of it as a championship game and just do your best. When in doubt, just remember, Mom loves you!”

 Her words were like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, comforting me and making me feel safe. Even though I was still nervous, my mom's words helped to calm me down a little. I smiled with a knot in my stomach.

 “Thanks, mom.” I said. “Love you, too.” 

As I walked into the rink, I was greeted by the sounds of chatter and laughter. My teammates' parents led me to the locker room, and as I walked in, I was surprised to see that most of my teammates were engaged in casual conversation, rather than focusing on the game ahead. 

While it was nice to see my teammates relaxed and enjoying themselves, I couldn't help but worry that they were underestimating our opponents. As I overheard some of their conversations, I heard them comparing our team to theirs, discussing their best players and strategies. The memory of our last game against the team we beat 8-3 flashed through my mind. They had mocked us, only to lose the game. 

I didn't want to repeat that mistake. I knew that some of my teammates could be prone to arrogance and overconfidence, and I worried that if we didn't take our opponents seriously, we could be in for a rude awakening. I didn't want to see all of our hard work and preparation go to waste. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. I reminded myself that we had worked hard to get to this point, and that we were capable of beating any team if we played to our full potential. 

We finished warm ups, did our pre-game rituals such as taping sticks, sharpening skates and were focusing on the biggest games of our lives. Our coach gave a little pep talk to us, which, for some reason, made me even more confident. And just like that we strapped up our helmets and headed on to the ice. 

During the first period, they scored a quick goal to make it 1-0. However, I did not let that goal up. Since my team had two goalies, the other goalie started first and when the game was about halfway through I came into the net. He was probably happy because he only let up one goal and now doesn’t have to deal with being in net, worrying about the what ifs’ thoughts. The goalie on the other team was playing really good. He did not allow a goal when the goalie on my team was playing. It is not helping that the referee was making unfair calls, favoring the opposing team’s side. I came into the game down by one goal, but confident. I knew that if I let up a goal, it would be deflating for me and especially my team.

Don’t let up a goal on the first shot, don’t let up a goal on the first. Please give me an easy shot. Those words were just repeating in my head. I always think about that, but in this case it’s extra important that I can make the first save so I can get it out of the way and play without worrying. I’m always nervous before the first shot is shot because after I make the save or a goal, I know whether I will be good in the game or not. Usually, it’s a save, but in a situation like this, a first save now is critical. 

Heart’s pumping, adrenaline rushing… the other team goes into my zone and passes it. The kid shoots and a save. Though it looked like a simple save, it really helped the rest of the game. I did not allow a single goal in the second period. Also, we scored to tie the game at 1. Nevertheless, the game wasn’t over. In fact, the next and last period (unless overtime) will be the hardest period. This is where everything gets intense. One miniscule mistake and it's over. I knew I had to be extremely careful, but confident. Luckily, I played a solid second period, so I hoped that it would carry over into the third period. 

The referees were making the worst calls ever. They kept calling penalties on our side for the littlest things. Parents and coaches were screaming, cursing the refs. What was funny was that they made it very clear that they were siding the other team. After every period they would talk to the other team’s coaches. 

As the game continued, the tension in the arena was palpable. The score was still tied, despite both teams having numerous chances to pull ahead. But then, disaster struck. Our team took so many penalties that we found ourselves with only three skaters on the ice, while the other team had a full five. It was a dangerous situation, and we knew we had to be extra vigilant. The other team took advantage of our disadvantage, firing shot after shot at our net. I could feel my heart racing as I watched each one, praying that we could hold on just a little longer. And then, it happened. One of their shots deflected off one of our players and rocketed towards the net. I was completely out of position, but somehow, the puck hit the post and bounced harmlessly away. Wooh, I thought.  It was a lucky break, and we knew it. But we also knew that luck could only take us so far. 

There were two minutes left on the clock and we could not score. How can a team win a game 5-0 and be tied against the same team 1-1 going into an overtime championship? Maybe we underestimated them, thinking we would get a free win or the other team didn’t play well at first and is now playing the best game of their lives. At the end of the day, this is the championship of a really big tournament. The opposing goalie continued to make impressive saves.

Eventually, the buzzer rang, ending the third period, still tied 1-1. By now my heart was racing and it felt as if I was about to have a panic attack. I could feel my hand twitching. The assistant coach went up to me and muttered “give it all you got. They can’t win if they don’t score.” I looked at him, nodded and went back to the net. 

As overtime began with only three players on the ice, I felt the weight of the game resting heavily on my shoulders. The pressure to perform was immense, and I knew that a single mistake could cost us the game. Despite my nerves, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, visualizing myself lifting the championship trophy high above my head. I could feel the weight of the metal in my hands, the cool air of the arena on my face. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, and it gave me the strength to keep pushing forward. But the officiating was still terrible, with missed calls and bad calls marring the flow of the game. It was frustrating to see, but we had to keep playing through it, focusing on the task at hand. As the minutes ticked by, it was clear that both teams were exhausted. We were drenched in sweat, our lungs burning with each breath. But we knew we couldn't give up, couldn't let the other team get the best of us. And so we fought on, with every muscle in our bodies screaming for rest. But the game must go on, and we were determined to see it through to the end. Despite the fatigue and frustration, I could feel the excitement building within me. We were so close to victory, and I could practically taste the sweet satisfaction of a hard-fought win. It was a feeling like no other, and it kept me going through the toughest moments of the game. After the first overtime ended, no goals were scored by either team. Now it's the second overtime. 

As the second overtime began, my nerves were in overdrive. I could feel my entire body shaking with anticipation. Every time the other team got the puck, my heart raced as I prepared for the worst. And every time we had the puck, my stomach twisted with the hope that we could finally score. It was like we were trapped in a never-ending loop, with no end in sight. I couldn't help but wonder how much longer we could keep this up. My muscles were starting to ache from the constant tension, and I felt like I was on the brink of exhaustion. As the minutes ticked by, my anxiety only grew stronger. I kept replaying the last game in my head, where we had scored five goals and dominated the other team. Why couldn't we just do that again? But hockey, like life, is unpredictable. Sometimes you can give it your all and still come up short. And that's what made this game so nerve-wracking - we knew we had to keep fighting, even if victory seemed impossible. Despite my fears and doubts, I tried to stay focused on the game. Every time the puck came near me, I lunged forward with everything I had, hoping to make the save.

Behind the net, the best player on my team takes the puck. He drives it to the front of the net, he shoots and saves. The rebound comes out and is cleared away by the other team. A kid on my team misplays the puck and it is a breakaway for the other team. He shoots and makes a big save by me. The biggest save of my career. Later into second overtime, a kid on my team passes to a teammate. A quick shot, and there is a scramble in front of the net. No one can find the puck. There were so many bodies looking for one small disk that I could not tell where it was. I was just hoping that it would be on the net. 

As the puck bounced around in the scrum, my heart pounded in my chest. It was a chaotic scene, with sticks flying everywhere and bodies crashing into each other. Then, out of nowhere, one of my teammates emerged from the pile with the puck on his stick. With lightning-fast reflexes, he took aim and fired a shot towards the net. The puck sailed through the air like a bullet, a streak of black against the pristine white ice. As the puck soared towards the goal, time seemed to slow down. My eyes were fixed on the puck, willing it to find its mark. And then, with a loud crack, it hit the back of the net. The arena erupted in cheers, and I felt a rush of relief and elation wash over me. We had finally scored, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. For a moment, everything seemed to be frozen in time. The sound of the crowd blended together into a symphony of joy, and I felt a sense of unity with my teammates that I had never experienced before. Equipment was flying everywhere. Teammates were swarming me, jumping on me, as we celebrated in union. This was the best feeling of my life. At that moment, I knew that we were unstoppable. We had come this far, and we weren't going to let anyone stand in our way. With renewed determination, I skated back to my position, ready to defend our lead and bring home the championship.

The New Jersey Titans had won! The final score was 2-1, and it was the result of a hard-fought battle against the Flyers Youth Hockey Club. As the buzzer rang and the game was over, a wave of emotions washed over me. It was the closest and the best game I had ever been a part of. Tears of joy threatened to spill from my eyes as I realized that my dreams had finally come true. After the game, we shook hands with the other team and then stood at the blue line, listening to the tournament's organizer. He held a handful of shiny, pristine gold medals in his hands. As he began to call out the names of the silver medal winners, I could sense the disappointment and defeat in the other team. There were tears of both joy and sadness all around, and the energy was electric.

Finally, the organizer called out, "Number 1, Kyle Levitsky," and I felt a surge of excitement and pride wash over me. I received my gold medal and proudly walked back to the blue line with my teammates, who were all smiles and cheers. I saw my mother in the stands, and she was screaming my name and cheering with tears in her eyes. She had been so nervous throughout the game that she had to leave for a little while. Before overtime began, she told me that she had to leave the arena for a bit and go into the lobby to get some air. It was such a nerve-racking experience for everyone in the building. She even said that she saw a parent on my team vomit.  

We were then handed the first-place trophy, the holy grail that we had all been working towards. I lifted the trophy high in the air, and we all screamed and shouted with joy. The parents in the stands were cheering and taking videos of us, and it was a moment that I would never forget. We then took pictures with the trophy and left the ice with tears of joy streaming down our faces.

When I saw my mom, I hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. She was beaming with pride and exclaimed, "I love you! This is why you will always be Number 1!" Her words filled my heart with warmth and joy, and I knew that this victory was not just mine, but also my mother's.

I am number 1. I will always be number 1.