I can’t believe it. I played a lousy game and now everybody is on top of me. I can’t believe how many goals they scored. I let too many soft goals in. Goddamn I’ve got to do better. I know I can do better. I think my mind is going, along with my body.
All the boys were proud of me. I stopped every goddamn shot. I was invincible. Nothing went through. When I’m between the pipes it’s like God’s telling me where to go. I’m really proud of myself. Glad to be alive.
What the hell did I do wrong? I don’t give a damn about nobody. No one helped me. My defensemen were all asleep. Then they blame me for losing the damn game? They all could go to hell for all I care. They know I’m good. If it wasn’t for me they wouldn’t have won any games.
I’m drinking too much. Again they still blame me. My mind is going. I told everybody to keep their eye on the damn puck. I couldn’t even see the puck, let alone stop it. Everything went through my legs or over my shoulders. I just can’t understand it. The puck was so fast. Screw everybody, I can’t stand my team. I can’t even stand you.
Is today Christmas? I hate Christmas. I hate hockey. I hate everyone on my team. They all made fun of me. I overheard one of my teammate’s say they want to get rid of me and play some stupid rent-a-goalie. They’re all going nuts. If it wasn’t for me they wouldn’t have a goddamn team.
I need to change my life. I told my teammates I was sick. They told me to stay home the next time. What the hell does that mean? I know they’re trying to get rid of me.
I feel good today. My first win in 15 games. Everybody gave me a pat on the back. Everybody had something to do today. I have nowhere to go. I’m playing with my lucky puck. You know what that means.
My ex-girlfriend heard I won the last game. I bet she’s jealous.
Wait, who told my ex I won that game? Was it me? She can’t blame me for cheating. It wasn’t my fault. I told her the baby wasn’t mine.
Today I didn’t eat. I had to buy baby food for the baby mama.
I had my chest/arm protector enlarged so I could cover the whole net. I still lost the game. But I’m confident that the next one’s mine. I have to stop everybody from scoring.
I purchased a new pair of pads: 15 inches wide baby. Can’t wait to test them out and bring it home for the boys.
I lost the game again. I told the idiot who made the pads that I want them 16 inches wide. It’s all his fault because he didn’t have the dyes. That piece of shit was responsible for me losing the game. I hate the world. I can’t stand being a goalie anymore. I hate goalies. Where’s my lucky puck?
Jan 19: 11:30 PM
Today I decided to do something different. Perhaps lady luck will go my way. I will sleep with my goalie equipment on.
Never again. I nearly suffocated. I almost died. Thank God I’m fit. I sweated the entire night.
I lost the game again. Everybody was picking at me.
I lost the game. They got another goalie. It looks like we’re going to be alternating.
The other goalie won the game, I looked at him after the game and he gave me the evil eye. He looked stoned to me. My team wants me to sit out the next game. A few of my teammates were drunk. I’m gonna’ need more wine.
I need some lady luck. They have to put me between the pipes. I know I can win that game. I can’t let the boys down. I bought the boys a case of beer, I know they’ll praise me for that.
On February 9th, 2004, Dan Cameron was found alone in his apartment. His teammates at the funeral said “He passed away peacefully, wearing his goalie equipment, like a soldier.” His diary was found beside him.