Descriptive Essay: Where I Play Ice Hockey

A place I go that I feel a complete sense of ease and belonging is Bridgewater Sports Arena, where I play ice hockey. I love the sound that my Bauer Supreme skates make when they slice and dice through the thick, frigid ice. I crave the pattering sound that the spectators hands make when you score a goal or make a great play. And I despise the collective, “ awe,” the fans make when something doesn’t go your way. The smell of the stick wax and gatorade let me know that I am right at home where I should be on a Saturday and Sunday night. The sound of the zippers on our bags opening up, and soft click of the equipment when it stretches and gets strapped down to the velcro excites me. We listen to our goalies interesting taste in pop, rap, and reggae music blaring through the locker room despite usually being quite unpleasant, it
The mood is rather serious at this point, every player looking each other in the eyes, almost telepathically asking,” Are you ready to go to war on the ice?” Then silence as we hear the loud slamming of the zamboni doors shut. This lets our team know it’s time to go to work. We all file out of the locker room one by one being sure to make every little kid's day by giving them a fist bump before hopping onto the ice. Sometimes the little children are quite frightened by my teammates Ty, Sam, and Liam as well as myself because we are all over six feet tall on skates. The music being played by our timekeeper blasts through the arena and I can see the speakers vibrating every time that the bass comes into the song. We skate around the rink our skates flying about the ice taking our hardest shots on the net. Once in a while ripping a slap shot at the glass just to hear the ping and then the scream as a little kid shrieks as he ducks out of the way forgetting that there's glass between him and the small piece of rubber we call a