The Tampa Bay Lightning are in Toronto. The team is arriving at the Air Canada Center for a secret morning skate. Their bus drives directly beneath the arena so that the Lightning can avoid the fans and rabid media in Toronto. There is no avoiding Brendan Shanahan, Kyle Dubas, Lou Lamoriello or Mike Babcock, who wait hiding in a dumpster, as the Lightning begin to unload from the bus.

“He’s here, he’s here, he’s here, he’s here!” says Mike.

“Shhhh” Lou hisses “He’ll hear you.”

Brendan can understand his underling’s excitement. Steven Stamkos will be in the building tonight. He is playing for the Lightning, but that does not keep the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs from imagining the superstar with a Leaf on his jersey.

“There he is.” Kyle whispers as shock and awe make his jaw go slack.

Steven Stamkos is a golden god. He steps off his team bus and the heavens start to sing. The light of his presence darkens the rest of the underground parking lot. With his blonde hair waving and his blue eyes sparkling, Steven quickly takes in his surroundings before following his teammates. Brendan thinks his mind is playing tricks when Steven looks past their hiding spot, then looks back and winks.

“He winked at us.” says Lou. “Did you guys see that?”

“How did he know we were here?” Kyle stammers, struck nearly dumb by the presence of Stamkos.

“Talent.” Mike answers.

“Talent.” Brendan, Kyle and Lou echo their agreement.

They just watch as Steven walks into the arena proper. His physique is perfect. His grace is effortless and his strength is displayed with every purposeful stride. He is more of a caged tiger than a hockey player. He is more of an approaching thunder cloud than a man. And just like a passing breeze he is gone, leaving Brendan, Kyle, Lou and Mike gasping to catch their stolen breath.

The Lightning have passed. The parking lot is silent. The four men speak in unison as if the words were a spell. And maybe words do hold the power to create.

“Dear God and Lord Stanley, thank you for bringing us together here in Toronto, and please help Steven Stamkos find his way home.”

The word home seems to echo longer than physics should allow until silence once again dominates the underground parking lot.

As usual, it is Lou who shatters the growing tension. “Let’s go to the peelers. I’m starving.”

“I can’t.” says Mike. “It’s game day, lots of work to do. Lots of work.” The coach vaults out of the dumpster and walks away, taking the same path into the arena that Stamkos walked mere moments before.

“What about you guys?” Lou asks Brendan and Kyle. “You gonna bitch out too?”

“I could use a sandwich.” Brendan answers with a shrug.

“Tuesdays they have crab on special.” Kyle reminds his boss as the colleagues depart with refuse falling off their suits.

************

Across town in Toronto Maple Leaf Tower, Jonathan Bernier looks at himself in the mirror.

“I am happy to be here.” He does not sound convinced. “Baby steps.” The Leaf walks out of the rest room and into the Toronto Maple Leaf International House of Pancakes. Jonathan always eats pancakes before a game and tonight’s game is no different than any other. As if to prove otherwise, Steve Briere, the Toronto Maple Leaf goaltending coach, is sitting at his table waiting eagerly.

“Jonathan, are you okay? Was it something you ate? Was it the salad? I bet it was the salad. Salmon salad is bad.”

Jonathan nods. “It was weird dressing.”

“Do you want something to drink? How about a drink of water? Ooo, what about some cranberry juice? My wife loves cranberry juice. I do too. You want some?”

“Get shots.” Jonathan says.

“It’s not even noon yet. We can’t have shots Jonathan, I will call Mike if I have to.” Steve only threatens to call the head coach Mike Babcock when he is super serious.

“A pitcher?” The Leaf will not give up.

“Okay, one pitcher.” For Steve, talking his young charge down from hard alcohol to beer is a win. “But only one okay. What kind of beer do you want? Do they have Kokanee here? Maybe they have Bud. I like Bud. Ooo, what about raspberry ale? Do you think they have raspberry ale? I can’t get raspberry ale when I’m with my wife, she likes cranberries.”

“Stop talking.” Jonathan says.

Steve stops talking. He looks around the T.M.L.I.H.O.P. It is unusually quiet for this time of day. He looks back to the goalie. Steve is worried about Jonathan. He will be the starting in the NHL for the first time time in over two weeks. Even if Jonathan was the backup goalie tonight, it would still be stressful. Steve is scared that Jonathan is not ready to be the starter. Just because he played very well in the minors, it does not mean that he’s prepared for the big time show time that is the league. Steve blames himself for Jonathan’s struggles so far this season, even though there are some mitigating factors. Problems with goalies are usually caused by problems with the goalie coach. No one else sees that the Leafs were all trying to learn the Babcock way early in the year. No one else cares that some of the bad goals allowed were the result of really terrible luck. No one else remembers the games where Jonathan stood on his head to stop pucks but the team just didn’t score any goals. All anyone sees is the stat line and the big fat zero in the win column. Being a goalie is really hard.

“Being a goalie is really hard.” Steve did not mean to make words and sounds. He looks over at Jonathan. The Leaf is staring straight at him intensely. “I mean it is, right?” The part of Steve’s mind that knows he should shut up is too used to failing to put up a fight. “Everyone blames the goalie, but then when he wins, that’s just his job. It’s not fair. Life’s not fair. Did I ever tell you about my synthetic testis? That was a bad day. It all started in the winter of ’96. Was it the winter?”

“Like I just said,” Jonathan has a fire behind his eyes that scares the goalie coach to the cockles of his heart. “Stop talking.”

Steve knows Jonathan is right. The time for talking is over. The only thing left is the doing.