It's a hard job, minding the net. One minute you're an idle and sweaty stay puft marshmallow michelin man person watching the game from across the rink, the next you're in full heart-attack mode trying to keep that little black bruiser from sneaking, chipping, flying, oozing, rebounding past you into the net.
I used to think I might not mind minding the net, but I realized that meant butthurt shame and letdown every time that slippery fucker got past me. Not to mention taking slapshots with a smile.
I would absolutely mind every moment of that.
I'll stay a skater. And an avid appreciator of those who learn and pass on the craft of the crease, the know-how of the net, the secrets of guarding the goal.
Photos of my friend teaching a newbie goaltender how to goaltend. Newbie was a natural.
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