Sudden death

Now we went into a sudden-death shootout — Gulp. It’s back to me again — deeper breath — Goal — thank God!

The tension continued to grow for the next four rounds of sudden death as every time we scored, they followed suit. And when we missed and they had chances to win it, Carter was more than up to the challenge. On one, he made a diving save, deflected the ball up and we watched it agonizingly float towards the goal before — DING — hitting the crossbar and bouncing out. The Kiwis struggled with this one, in particular.

During all of this I tried my best not to ride the waves of emotion as I knew I had to stay composed should I have to shoot again, but I have to be honest and say that pretty much became impossible the deeper we got into sudden death.

As a quick aside, I know from talking to my sister when I got back that this was about the time in the shootout that my mom, who was watching on a YouTube stream back in Canada, went upstairs and hid in her bedroom. The tension was too much to take. Instead of watching, she asked to be informed by a shout after each goal or save.

Her anxiety would have only increased after the order switched in the sixth round of sudden death and, after another incredible save from Carts, suddenly her son was back up to shoot with the Olympic Games riding on his stick. I went in and pulled to the right going around the keeper to work some space for a shot. Although the angle was narrow I had net to shoot at and flicked it towards the target. Whack! The flailing goalie made an incredible save, diving back to pick the ball out of midair with his stick.

As I trudged back to the 25-yard line my mind was racing — sadness and frustration mixed with soul-crushing disappointment. I could have wiped away seven years of grinding and disappointment with one goal and now I was going to have to go back, stand there quietly, and wait, hoping that my teammates could pull it out for us and I wouldn’t have to re-live that miss for the next four years of my life.

Two more tense rounds passed before Carter made another epic save, and then Adam Froese was back up with another shot to send us to Rio. I waited with bated breath as he pulled left, curled back right and found the gaping net! Yeeesssss!!!! I ran as fast as I could with outstretched arms to join Carter and Froese in celebration.

I don’t know who I hugged first or for how long but the rest of the team was quick to pile in on top of us. By the time I’d pulled myself out of the pile the tears had started rolling, a combination of qualifying for the Olympic Games, the release of tension after a 31-minute shootout, and thinking about my family and all our supporters back home. It was all so, so good.

I hugged and definitely kissed some of my teammates with tears still streaming down my cheeks. This was the moment I’d been waiting for, my teammates had been waiting for. This was the moment that made all those 6:30 a.m. trainings in the Vancouver sleet and paying for trips out of our own pocket for the past three years so worth it.

I grabbed my cell phone, flicked on the cellular roaming and started calling, I didn’t care how much it cost, I needed to share this moment with my mom, my sisters and my girlfriend, although it wasn’t a great conversation as it went something like: (sobbing)... “We did it!” (more sobbing)… “We did it!”

(Large photos courtesy The Associated Press/International Hockey Federation and Getty Images)