Rookie Year Razor

A thousand voices at the local rink, Centre Ice, whistled and screamed. Two thousand feet and hands stomped and clapped. Then I heard one word really clear. It was my name. "Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!"
I waited in front of the net - knees bent, body tilted forward from the waist. All I could see was three players from the Blades streaking down the ice. They were coming right at me an' my teammates were nowhere in sight. The announcer was so excited he could hardly say the words, "He shoots! He scores!"
"No!" I yelled, bolting upright in bed. I wrapped my goose-bumpy arms around my legs, hugging myself to stop shaking. I didn't know what time it was but I did know it was game day. And I was scared.
A month ago, Coach came up to me at practice an' said, "Thomas, I think you would make a very good goal tender. Want to give it a try?"
I figured I spent a lot of my time there anyway, so I told him, "Sure Coach. I'll give it a try. Why not?"
Next thing I know, Coach gave me a new mask and extra padding for my legs and chest. He gave me a different hockey stick, too. It was harder to skate and at first, I was worried I couldn't skate at all. I sure do remember that first day wearing all my new gear.
"Tommy, you look like a turtle and move 'bout as fast!" Billy jeered as he flashed by the net. "Try to stay on your feet, turtle boy!" he yelled as he made an ice-showering stop in front of me.
"Hey, Tommy. You gonna hide in your shell the entire practice?" he taunted the next time he made a pass behind the goal, expertly handling the puck with his stick. "You might as well,'cause you skate like a girl!"
Billy's been at me like a dog with a new toy ever since I started learning to skate an' play hockey. My dad says he's just trying to shake me up so he can feel better about himself. I didn't tell Dad that Billy finds ways to trip me when Coach isn't looking. And he calls me TOMMY. I don't wanna let the team down but I don't know what to do about Billy.
Dad dropped me off at the door because my duffel bag weighs a ton. I dragged it to the locker room. The room was full of noisy guys an' there were clothes all over the floor. There were a few dads in there, too. Coach arrived just after me. He sorted everybody out and got us ready for the game. One dad didn't wanna go, but Coach made him anyway.
This was our first ever game. We were playing the Southside Sharks. As they skated onto the ice, I checked them out, one at a time. They looked pretty big to me. I slid into the crease just as the ref dropped the puck. The game was on!
Our teams played pretty much the same. In the first period, the guys did a lot of skating from one end of the rink to the other, but hardly anybody took a shot at the net. When they did, the puck went wonky an' skidded out of my way so I didn't really have much to do.
I was feeling pretty good about being the goalie until a player from the Sharks sent a slap-shot whooshing by me to score the first goal. My team-mates glared at me. My face got all hot. Then I heard the crowd. Shouts of "Bite 'em to bits, Sharks!" and "Chomp 'em and Chew 'em!" rang out from one side of the rink while our supporters were yelling "C'mon Razors! Cut 'em up!" and "Slice 'em to bits!"
Halfway into the second period, Billy scored for us to tie the game. The crowd went wild. Billy got mobbed by our team. And then, when he assisted for the second goal, I really started to worry. I just knew the other team would wannt get even.
I didn't dare take my eyes off the puck. I didn't want the Sharks sneaking up on me again. With just two minutes left, Billy flew down the ice with the puck. He was heading right for the Sharks' net, but he got tripped and ended up sliding down the ice on his belly. He ended up in the net with their goalie on tip of him - just like I used to. Now the Sharks had the puck and were coming toward me - fast. My team was nowwhere in sight!
I tried to keep my muscles loose an' my eyes on the puck. The captain of the Sharks kept passing it to another guy on his team who passed it back. I was starting to get dizzy wathching them. I didn't dare blink as the puck kept changing hands so I shook my head a couple of times. Then, in slow motion, I saw the puck flying toward me. I stretched up as far as I could, reached out with my right hand, an' heard a thump. When I dared to look, the puck was still in my glove. The buzzer sounded to end the game. We won!
After the game, Coach took us out for pizza. Me an' Billy ended up sitting beside each other. He leaned over, poked me in the ribs an' whispered, "Good thing the glove was so big, tutle boy."
I looked him right in the eyes an' said, "Billy, if you need to feel you're better than me, make fun about how I skate, or how I stop. I don't care. I'm not the only one who saw you in that net. And it wasn't you wearing the glove that made the game-winning save. I'm a darn good goal tender. So remember that. And my name is THOMAS."