By stern on Oct 20, 2005
First goals are great memories; something akin to first steps except you're mentally developed enough to remember the replay later in life. My son's first goal came on a Bobby Orr-style shot, as he was being tripped in front of the net. He has the puck while I have the picture. My first goal came on Princeton's Baker Rink, on a Tuesday night in the dead of November. I was skating through the left face off circle, and Tom Chatt fed me the puck which managed to bounce off of my stick and into the net. Intramural hockey at its finest. I didn't keep the puck, because our club team had only three of them. Given a choice between buying a beer after the game or another puck at the University Store, I went for beer to celebrate. I remember the goal (but not the beer), and wish I had the puck.
Here's hoping that the refs fished George's first goal out of the net and kept the puck for him.