Sweet dreams are made of this

It’s the stuff hit movies are made of. I’ve run out of superlatives to describe this Vipers team, and their achievements this season, and in truth I could probably just go back to the win over the Panthers a couple of weeks ago and reel out some of the same material, but it simply wouldn’t do justice to the night we had at Whitley Bay on Sunday. And I think I need to engage in a blow-by-blow written account, not just for posterity but to try and convince myself that what happened, actually did happen. I can’t deal with it all in one go so I will employ the use of chapters as I attempt to recreate the scenes that unfolded.

Chapter 1: Tensions rise

Billed as the ‘Bash at the Bay’, the Vipers team took to the ice resplendent in Hawaiian shirt-style jerseys which were, well, eye-catching to say the least. After the humiliating 15-0 defeat at the hands of the Nottingham Panthers on their territory last week, it was clear to see from early on in the game that the Vipers were in no mood to allow a repeat performance. They defended tightly and made their presence felt; having played each other twice in the last two weeks, there were obviously personal scores to be settled, and players clashed early on, John Schwarz coming to blows with Panthers Coach Corey Neilson inside ten minutes and Mike Prpich, giving not a jot for his personal safety, tussled with Guy Lepine shortly afterwards in a situation that threatened to get out of hand.

The tension was almost unbearable, as the match officials made a string of poor decisions and struggled to control the game, frustrations bubbled over and it seemed likely that someone could get seriously hurt. I actually felt sick with nerves; the hostility in the air was so tangible you could have bottled and sold it to Celtic and Rangers fans, and the game could have boiled over at any moment, Sam Zajac and John Schwarz continuing to fan the flames of conflict even after Prpich and Lepine had taken their seats. Luckily the period ended and gave everyone a chance to cool down, but not before a lengthy debate with the referee and linesmen took place on the ice. Oh to have been a fly on the hoardings for that one!

The Cubist version of Mike Prpich.

Lepine: Prpich, baby! How dare you trim your luscious beard! How dare you! Your beautiful chin will get cold! I shall remove the hair from your head in protest and stick it to your face!

Chapter 2: War of Attrition

The second period started out somewhat more sedately, the period break seemingly imbuing a sense of calm on the previously enraged collection of hockey players. Unfortunately, Panthers added to their lead just a few minutes in, we went 3-0 down and the game took on a familiar feeling of inevitability. The lead lasted nearly the whole period, as the teams worked to try and wear each other down, the Panthers' version of this mostly consisting of incessant foul-play, culminating in the sucker-punch in the Lepine/Prpich saga at around 17 minutes in when Lepine decided to propel his playthings out of the cot-like four-wheeled baby carriage, and received a game penalty for behaving like a little girl in the playground. Well, actually I think it was for third man in, but he pulled Mike Prpich’s hair plenty and if there was a penalty for that, he would have been done twice over. Prpich did some ‘bashing at the bay’ of his own and the two exchanged pleasantries in the penalty box following the incident before Lepine headed off for an early bath. (Ha! As if Whitley Bay ice rink has a bath! Cold hose-down, more like!)

Then, in the closing minutes of the period, we scored a goal through Danny Stewart, and it was game on.

Chapter 3: Ode to Defencemen

O Defencemen, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
You are all most valiant warriors, enlightening my days.
Boom!
I love thee Kyle Sibley, with your short-handed scoring skills
Bam!
And even more for your second goal, which brought hope back to Hill(head)s
Bosh!
The amazing Sammy Zajac, like Persil, small and mighty.
John Schwarz, tall and noble, strong and bold and somewhat fight-y.
Bada-boom!
Oh how you picked your moment to net your first, you beauty
And Danny Stewart too, for even though you are playing out of position, you still technically count as a defencemen for the purposes of this poem and you scored the winning goal and you filled my heart with joy.
Yay!

Wow I am so awesome at poetry! I may well write to the Queen and demand she installs me as the new Poet Laureate as a matter of urgency. That English degree sure is paying off now, eh Mum and Dad!

Chapter 4: What really happened

When the Panthers went 4-1 up five minutes into the third period, many a fan would have effectively felt this equalled game over. Thankfully, hockey fans know better, and when Corey Neilson and his unpredictable Panthers are in town, anything can, and usually does, happen. Taking a leaf out of Arsene Wenger’s book following his team’s incredible throwing away of a 4-0 lead against the footballing Geordies on Saturday, Neilson is a coach who takes losing a lead to new lows. The Vipers battled back to 4-3 through a brace from Kyle Sibley, and then tied the score at 4-4 through Toms Hartmanis following yet another outstanding save from Charlie Effinger. There were 7 minutes to go.

4 minutes to go. David-Alexandre Beauregard converts a powerplay opportunity to take the lead for the Panthers. 5-4. Time to throw in the towel? Not a chance. Stick with me, sports-fans.

1.5 minutes to go. I was almost perfectly positioned up in the stands - directly in John Schwarz’ sight-line as he received the puck and travelled up the left wing - to see him pick out the shot, and to see that there was nothing in his way. Every single person in that ice rink saw it coming. Except Panthers netminder, Dan Green, that is. Schwarz took aim and let rip a monstrous slapshot. That goal was inevitability incarnate. I’m certain I started cheering a split second before the net bulged as the puck flew in.

The place erupted. The crowd had been increasing in volume throughout the game and the roof was now lifting right off. I’d been waiting for that goal all season and wondered if it was ever coming. I’ve no doubt John had as well. What a time to score it. We're not worthy! and all that jazz.

1 minute to go. Vipers called a time-out. God only knows what was said but in the movie version of this story (coming soon to a theatre near you), Danny will be making an inspirational speech about triumph over adversity, wreaking a poetic revenge for the injustices of the previous game, and how tough guys shouldn’t pull hair.

20 seconds to go. Stewart receives the pass from… oh I can’t even remember. Hartmanis? It’s all a blur. He has sight of goal, brilliant positioning from the Coach who’s thrown all notion of covering in defence out of the window to take up his rightful position in front of net. Somewhere, someone stops time. There’s a moment of complete silence and everyone is frozen where they stand, faces captured in exquisite anticipation. Then someone starts time again. The goal goes in. Hugging, screaming, stamping, ridiculous dancing, an epic on-ice pile-on. These all occur simultaneously. Loudly. And riotously.

17 seconds to go. Everyone suddenly remembers the game isn’t over and focus returns to the ice, but it’s too late for the Panthers, and as the seconds count down the Vipers fans poise themselves to go completely and utterly mental.

2 seconds to go. The puck is cleared down the ice and it’s all over.

Players and fans lose the plot. It all goes blurry. If the ice wasn't encased in a plastic wall, I have no doubt the fans would have invaded the rink en masse. My half-full bottle of cider has long since been tipped across the floor. I don’t even care. That’s what this means.

Unbridled joy. And terror, for anyone standing too close. When did Danny lose a tooth, anyway? He looks quite alarming.

Chapter 5: The Aftermath

Corey Neilson, you fine figure of a man, with your Sexy Neilson Hockey you are really spoiling us. You continue to provide the hockey fans of Great Britain and Northern Ireland with unbeatable entertainment and for that we salute you. I honestly thought nothing could top the last time we beat the Panthers but the nature of this victory means that it actually has. It has gone straight into my top 3 sporting occasions of all time, fact. Sheer brilliance, the fairytale ending you couldn’t have dared to hope for. You literally could not make this up. This is why the best sporting movies are based on true stories.

Don't think I can't see you skulking off in the background there, Corey me old fruit. Not feeling so sexy now, are we? Never mind son. Go and have a cuddle with Jade and make it all better.

Just when I thought this sport could not get any more exciting, this team any more gutsy and brave, and this experience more perfect, it does. Sore throat? Check. Sore hands? Check. Heart bursting with pride? Check. Earlier in the season I said ice hockey was like a terminal illness; well after the infarction-inducing drama of Sunday night I’ll go one step further than that. I think it probably takes years off your life. But they’re the years you’ll be smelling of cabbage and knocking out teenagers with walking sticks anyway so what the hey. For nights like this, it’s worth it.

I reeled out the clichés after the last win over the Panthers so I don’t think I need to this time. Needless to say, we deserved the win. And needless to say, we were brave, strong, ballsy and determined, and lots of other words that mean all those things. Needless to say it probably won’t make any difference in the long run, as needless to say we are still up the proverbial creek without a propulsion device, cash-wise. But needless to say that regardless of what happens in the future, no-one can take this feeling away from me, or any of the other fans who were there to witness it, or those who couldn't be there but were following in spirit, or any of the players who I am sure will go onto future clubs with the story of the night they won the one of the most amazing games they ever played in (yes, yes they will).

Hyperbole and superlatives exhausted, I will retire to a darkened room and attempt to recover my long-lost composure. Hockey really is the craziest rollercoaster ride I’ve ever been on. And with highs like this, who even cares about the lows.