Champions

Best headline of the season? I think so. Sure, I could have made a pun, done a brief recap as to what the article would entail, or just thrown in a slew of exclamation points. But no... Champions. Ahhh, say it aloud with me. Champions. Rolls off the tongue doesn't it? See, I've always dreamed of winning the championship, and as a writer, subsequently writing the championship winning article. So for me, the victory is twofold. Alas, as a warning to all readers about to embark on this article, a warning that this blog post is going to be so epic that afterward you will have to sit back and light a cigarette.

So let's get to it.

The sun rose as it always did on January 21, 2010. The light peaked over the horizon, producing a dull sheen on the slick roads and frosty lawns in the early winter morning. Across the Northern Virginia region, the Comrades, whether awake and preparing for a day of school or work, or asleep and still nestled in the safety of their blankets, were all dreaming of a championship. It was the one they had been waiting for their whole lives; one that they would have the opportunity to win when that same sun made its arc across the sky and, appropriately, headed back towards Russia.

As the hours slowly bled off the clock, the thoughts racing through the heads of the Soviets must have ranged from anxiety to invincibility. Each hour seemed to bring a new emotion, and constant reassurance was not only helpful in maintaining sanity, it was necessary.

The Cryptic Stench, a very good team in their own right, and the Red Army beat them.

Prestige Worldwide, their biggest rivals, and the Red Army beat them.

The Puck Ewes, the number one seed that mauled the Soviets in the season finale, and the Comrades rebounded and beat them in game one of the championship series.

One more game. One. More. Game.

By the time six o'clock rolled around, it was already dark. A storm was blowing in and a slight reign rain had began. As innocent looking pedestrians piled into a Discovery Channel cab to be quizzed on general knowledge questions along their way, the butterflies arrived in the collective stomachs of the Soviets.

"I was nervous," Ben Breiterman said. "It was a weird feeling and I could feel it from head to toe. Well, not in the stash. The stash never gets flustered. This thing is unwavering in its resolve."

Captain Steve Hand also shared his teammate's feeling of nervousness. "Yeah, I don't think saying that I had butterflies in the stomach does justice to what I was feeling. I had a rhino in there."

The most nervous of all players though, by far, was the leading scorer of the team and league, Mark Hendricks. "I had to fold laundry just to take my mind off of the game," Hendricks said. "I watched Cash Cab but every thing reminded me of the game. Red Light Challenge? Turning on the red light. Ben Bailey? Ben Breiterman. Street shout out? Red Army winning a championship."

An hour before the game, most of the Soviets were at the rink, idly passing the puck around on foot. There were jokes and laughter as guys tried to lighten the mood. But even as more interesting stories about Ryan Odell's girlfriend surfaced, the entire team recognized that there was an elephant in the room, or rather, in the building. In the depths of the Plex, hidden away under shin guards and athletic tape, there was a box full of championship t-shirts waiting for owners. So Mother Russia's boys laced up their skates and taped their sticks all hoping it would be the last time of the season. They had the full intention of wearing those shirts home.

8:07 PM: Face-off.

The puck was dropped, the game started, and the nerves took a backseat to adrenaline. Frantic back and forth action jump started the game into a run and gun style of play that favored the Puck Ewes, yet it was the Comrades who drew first blood.

With Tony Horton setting a screen, Breiterman took a pass from Hand and fired a wrist shot that beat the unsuspecting goalie. The Soviets, like the fans, who came out in record numbers this playoffs, went crazy.

"Huge goal for us," Horton said. "We wanted that first one, and we got it. It was big, real big. Like me."

The period continued with more end to end action, and it was the Puck Ewes who were dictating the play. Slap shots, wrist shots, snap shots, deflections, and backhanders were thrown at Schram. He fought them off, kicked them wide, and did whatever he needed to in order to stop the puck from crossing the goal line. Even a Puck Ewes power play, which saw at least four or five high quality shots get fired on Schram, was unable to capitalize.

"I was seeing the puck and I felt confident," Schram said about his first period. "Guys were blocking shots and clearing people out. True team effort."

The Puck Ewes did manage to get one past Schram in the end of the period when a shot beat him near side. It closed out the period 1-1 and the game became a thirty minute contest.

Period number two was less friendly to the Communists. The penalty kill, which had been operating at 100% in the playoffs, finally yielded one after the Puck Ewes second man advantage of the period, and third of the game. The shot was a backdoor pass that caught Schram moving post to post.

"I didn't think it was a penalty," Brad Lotocki said, who was guilty of two infractions on the evening. "The calls were a bit uneven and I... I just... BEAR CAVALRY!"

Moments after making the score 2-1, it became 3-1. A failed clearing attempt by Hendricks left a Puck Ewe skater alone in the slot and he made the Soviets pay.

In years past, Red Army goalies had been notorious for blowing up after giving up a few goals in short time. The blow ups often would lead to more goals against and sometimes ejections. Schram, though visibly shaken by the two goals allowed, bent but did not break, and in the most trying moments of the season, he bailed the team out.

The Puck Ewes owned the puck the remaining minutes of the middle frame and fired more shots on a Red Army goalie than ever before. A goal allowed here would have all but solidified a third game. But the goal never happened. The buzzer sounded, and the teams went to the benches with the score 3-1.

That's when Hendricks gave his speech.

"I looked around at the guys and I just said, 'Look, we just played two really [bad] periods and it's only a two goal deficit. If we put together one period here where we skate with them, we have the puck, and we get shots, I like our chances. If someone told me two months ago that we'd be here right now, I wouldn't have believed it. But we are, and we got here by doing things as a team, not by one guy getting by four guys. So let's go out there and do it'. I think it worked because they responded cause we were pretty pumped up."

It worked indeed.

On the second shift of the period, after an extensive possession in the Puck Ewes zone that wore out some of their defenders, Pat King retrieved a loose puck and headed back towards the goal. He stick handled by one defender and shot through another one. The goalie reacted late but was able to kick the puck out to his right. King collected his own rebound and fired a beautiful snap shot top shelf that even knocked the towel sitting on the net up in the air. Hendricks, Odell, and Scott Hoefer jumped on the goal scorer.

"It was great," King said. "Biggest goal of the season for me for sure. I knew we had just had the puck for a while and they were a little bit tired, so I attacked. When the goalie kicked the rebound out all I was thinking was where would I go to order the finest Russian Vodka in all of the land, and I quickly reminded myself, top shelf."

With that goal, the fans were back into the game, the doubt was back in the Puck Ewes, and the confident swagger was back with the Soviets. Each shift they had the puck and out skated the Puck Ewes. Two shifts later, with Odell, Hoefer, King, and Hendricks out again, they evened the score.

King tied up his faceoff partner and Hendricks swept in to knock the puck back to Odell. Odell cut across the middle and through the slot while being harassed by defenders. The defenseman was able to keep the puck on his blade and fire a wrist shot that beat the goalie at the far post. The Plex again was rocking.

"It was loud for sure," Odell said. "It was my first goal of the playoffs, and even though I've been playing really well defensively, it was nice to get on the board."

It was more than nice, it was sensational.

With all of the momentum on their side, the Soviets were playing great. Then Lotocki took his second penalty of the game with a slashing penalty with six minutes remaining and the butterflies and rhinos returned.

Odell called a time out and preached defense and a solid penalty kill. Who else lead the PK unit but the serial penalty killer himself Hoefer. The next two minutes saw more shot blocks and clears by Hoefer, Odell, and Breiterman than any other penalty kill all season.

The two minutes were up, Hendricks got the puck as he went on the rink for Breiterman, and raced full steam ahead into the Puck Ewes zone.

Then he lost the puck.

Breakaway the other way.

Goal.

It happened as fast as those simple sentences. The best player on the team made the worst mistake of the season and it lead to the worst result.

He had three minutes to make it up to his Comrades.

On the ensuing shift, Breiterman drew a penalty and the Soviets went to their first man advantage of the game. Odell, King, Hendricks, and Breiterman went out together for what they hoped would be a game tying tally. What they got was almost a game clinching goal against.

An errant pass allowed a Puck Ewe penalty killer to cut down the middle of the rink for a breakaway on Schram. Odell got on his horse and skated down the player the entire length of the rink before superman diving and poke checking the puck right before the shot. The puck deflected into the corner where another Puck Ewe went to collect it, but Odell was there again, and he won the battle. He fired the puck up to Breiterman, and five seconds after a Puck Ewe breakaway, it was a three on one the other way. Breiterman sent a pass to Hendricks and the sniper blasted a one timer short side that knotted the game and sent the fans into an uproar again.

"I had to score on that one," Hendricks said. "I couldn't do anything against these guys and I had so many chances. It won't show up on the score sheet, but that diving poke check was the biggest assist."

The last ninety seconds drained off the clock and the game was going into overtime.

That's right, overtime.

The shifts, unlike the last overtie game, were short. Players were exhausted, it was their fourth playoff game in eight days. Mother Russia was even awarded a power play in the extra frame, but with no legs and not enough left in the tank, they were hardly able to muster anything at all on goal.

More line changes completed and the overtime continued to go on. Both goalies were peppered with shots, but nothing went in.

Then Breiterman changed for a winded Odell.

The Mustache Man took a bouncing pass from Hendricks, settled the puck, drove towards the goal for a backhand, but opted last second to go forehand, and fired a puck that beat the goalie seven hole.

Hoefer raced to Schram, who had already vacated his crease to sprint towards center, and the two leaped into each other's arms, tackling each other in the process.

Hendricks and King threw their sticks and gloves in the air, and jumped on them.

The bench piled over the boards and joined the melee at center. The last player to join the dog pile was the one who created it. Breiterman jumped on the group and celebrated as the Red Army had just won its first ever championship.

"I thought usually the dog pile in overtime centers around the guy who scores the goal, but I guess not," Breiterman said, moments before taking a shot out of a ram's horn and being dog piled on in the kitchen of Hand, Schram, and Horton's apartment.

"I need a chaser," the championship clinching goal scorer added.

Hoefer, brought to tears by the Georgian homemade moonshine championship, still could not believe what had happened.

"I.... I love.... I love everything right now."

Champions.




Ahhhhhhhhhh, feels good doesn't it? I'll end with just one thing. One very last thing to close out this article and season (though many more reflective articles will be written in the coming days).

We won the damn thing.

THREE STARS:
3: Fans
2: Ben Breiterman, Steve Hand, Mark Hendricks, Scott Hoefer, Tony Horton, Pat King, Brad Lotocki, Ryan Odell
1: Andy Schram

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!