When I hear the crack, I go down on my knees and flair my legs to the side to guard against a low puck. In ice hockey, the failure of a single player to do her job generates a red light as accusing as any state trooper's. After a goal you have to pull yourself together. I brush the ice away, bang both posts to get relocated, and tap myself on my leg pads. Sometimes she removes her helmet, runs a hand through her sweaty hair, and has a drink of water.
Brewer circles the net while reciting a private mantra to ease the sting.
While she can hear her teammates' shouts of encouragement from the ice and the bench, it is this silent monologue, she says, that most helps her refocus. A goalie's public humiliation rarely ends with the red light or a number on the electronic scoreboard. If you let in a goal, they'll scream that you're a sieve. Both goalies steel themselves for hostile crowds at away games. MacKinnon remembers playing a game in Toronto last winter in front of a noisy crowd.