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The puck was passed back to the point. Zaitsev kept it in at the line. He looked up and saw Bobby in front of the net. He shot the puck towards Bobby’s stick and hoped Bobby could tip it in the net. Zaitsev—no, everyone—knew how much Bobby needed this goal. This was his first game back in Ottawa after being away from the team to battle some inner demons.
Bobby managed to do exactly what Zaitsev had wanted. The puck deflected off his stick and went in the net over Demko’s left shoulder. Brady was the first one to Bobby to celebrate the goal. He crowded him against the glass behind the net. Zaitsev and the other guys on the ice rushed over and squished Bobby with a hug.
“So proud! You needed that!” Zaitsev said, voice a little strained. He sounded like he was the one that wanted to cry.
“Thank you. Nice shot pass,” Bobby croaked. His voice was ready to break. He did need that. More than he would ever admit to anyone.
He skated down the bench and got fist bumps from all of the guys. The crowd began chanting his name as the referees got ready to drop the puck to start play. He felt butterflies in his stomach at the mere thought that the fans cared about him this much.
In the third period, Tierney was behind the net. Bobby skated up the ice to the top of the left-wing face-off circle. He made eye contact with Tierney and nodded. Tierney nodded back and passed the puck to Bobby. It was a little errant and made contact with Bobby’s skate instead of his stick. That was no issue for Bobby at all. He handled it with great precision and kicked it to his stick in a matter of seconds. Then, as fast as it had been kicked to his stick, he released the shot towards Demko. It squeaked in short side between Demko’s elbow and the post.
As Bobby skated over to celebrate with his teammates along the left-wing boards, he quickly caught a glance of J.T, Miller in front of the net. Bobby smirked to himself when he realized that Miller had thwacked his stick against the crossbar and broken it. It felt great to make his opponents this angry in only his first game back in Ottawa.
The fans chanted his name again as he waited for the referees to drop the puck. Bobby exhaled heavily. He had never loved the fans of the Senators more than he had at this moment. They had stuck with him through something that had ravaged his life.
There was an empty net near the end of the period. Vancouver wanted a chance to tie the game. Brady had chased a Vancouver player into the left-wing corner. Bobby chased after them; it’d be a lie if he said he hadn’t thought about a hat trick since the second goal. Brady won the puck battle and noticed that Bobby had followed the play. Brady smiled towards Bobby and passed the puck from behind the net.
Bobby had to corral the puck a little bit because the pass had been a little too crisp. He swallowed any butterflies that were in his throat and fired the puck into the empty net. He felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he skated towards the right-wing corner to celebrate. Josh was the first one over to him. He gave Bobby an awkward side hug and jostled his helmet.
“Fucking right, man!” Josh beamed.
Brady was next over. He gave Bobby another awkward side hug and squeezed his back. “You deserved that so much.” Brady’s voice sounded a little strained and his face looked three seconds from tears.
Thomas came over and completed the group hug. He squeezed everyone together and smiled with the utmost vigour. “Le soleil se lève toujours à nouveau.”
Bobby smiled fondly and leaned his head towards Josh. He felt the emotions encase him as Josh put his arm around Bobby’s neck, leaned around, put their faces close, and shook Bobby.
“Brady’s gonna get that puck for you, bud!”
The emotions overtook Bobby then. As he skated back to the bench, he took his glove off and wiped his face with his palm. He didn’t care if he cried; it felt great to get a hat trick in his first game back after what had happened.
He skated down the bench for the customary fist bumps. All the guys smiled and tried to squeeze his hand the best they could with hockey gloves on. Bobby appreciated that gesture with every fibre of his existence. After what he had gone through, after the stress he had no doubt caused the team, they still cared for him like he was one of their own. It meant more to him than he could ever put into words.
When he went to sit on the bench, one of the players smacked him on the helmet and back as he stepped through the door. He didn’t see who it was through the thin sheen of tears in his eyes, but he muttered a “thanks man” all the same.
The fans started chanting his name again. They were more emphatic, more insistent this time. Bobby mouthed ‘thank you’, ‘thank you’ a few times to show the fans that he deeply appreciated what they had done for him. He cried the entire time. He leaned forward on the bench and put his head down for a moment. He breathed heavily.
When he had pictured the first game back in Ottawa after what he had undergone, he could say he didn’t picture this. Bobby didn’t score in the game he had pictured. That was because he was too nervous to react properly on the ice. The fact that he had scored not only one goal but three, made him so grateful that he played for a team and a fanbase like Ottawa. His nerves had melted away the second he had stepped on the ice for the game. He had been able to play from the start of the game.
Bobby was so grateful he had gotten himself help. Moments like this would’ve been tarnished if they had been before treatment. Now that he was on the road to a better life, he could enjoy hockey in its full capacity.
He looked up and down the bench and felt one word enter his brain.
Home.