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KEN DRYDEN, goaltender, Montreal, on the biggest enemy for a goaltender:

Because the demands on a goalie are mostly mental, it means that for a goalie the biggest enemy is himself. Not a puck, not an opponent, not a quirk of size or style. Him. The stress and anxiety he feels when he plays, the fear of failing, the fear of being embarrassed, the fear of being physically hurt, all the symptoms of his position, in constant ebb and flow, but never disappearing. The successful goalie understands these neuroses, accepts them, and puts them under control. The unsuccessful goalie is distracted by them, his mind in knots, his body quickly following.

(Dryden: The Game)

KEN DRYDEN, discussing the impossibility of stopping a Bobby Hull slapshot:

"Hull's slapshot has been clocked at just under one hundred twenty miles per hour. If he blasts at my upper left-hand corner from our blueline and my glove is two feet below the point of entry, it is quite impossible to stop it. Why? It takes less than half a second for the puck to travel from stick to nets, which is less time than is required for my brain computer to decide what to do, to tell my glove hand to lift and to have the glove lift."

(Hal Bock: "Save! Hockey's Brave Goalies", 1974)

KEN DRYDEN, describing the one-on-one battle between Montreal's Guy Carbonneau and Edmonton goaltender GRANT FUHR:

Is it a game too fast to see, on too many levels to take in. Slow the game down, stop the action, and the game looks different. Carbonneau fights to control the skittering puck, then near the centre line he looks up. His brain takes in everything. He knows an Oiler is behind him and won't catch up, though he doesn't turn to see. He knows the crowd is just beginning to roar, though in the echoing silence of his concentration, he hears nothing. He remembers other games against Fuhr. other chances he has had, (Montreal Coach Pat) Burns's words. He sees where Fuhr is standing. Consciously, he is aware of none of this. Unconsciously, he knows it all. He can feel the moment of climax draw near. He knows that Fuhr can sense it, too. Like Star Wars pilots in a dog fight, Fuhr's rhythm and Carbonneau's rhythm jerk out of sync until, finally in each other's sights, they lock. Carbonneau moves, Fuhr moves. And then the sound.

From shin pads to red light, 6.9 seconds.

(Dryden: Home Game)

KEN DRYDEN, comparing the reactions of Edmonton's GRANT FUHR and Montreal's PATRICK ROY at the beginning of a period:

The two goalies skate out to their positions and face each other 180 feet apart. The game may well turn on what they do in the next several minutes. It is their usual responsibility. And from the way they move their bodies, they make clear once again that a goalie can never really put aside the vulnerability of his position. Fuhr does well masking his insecurities with bounce and effervescence, but they are there. Roy wears his. His head bobs around like a car ornament on a bumpy road, his body moves when there is nothing to move for. He reaches for his goal posts, his stick like an insect's feeler, just to touch them, to know they are no wider apart than the last time. But when the puck comes near to Roy or Fuhr, their minds go blank and their insecurities disappear, the bouncing and bobbing stop, and their bodies become like rock, unmoving, unnfeeling, ready. It is when the puck stops that the insecurities return.

(Dryden: Home Game)

TONY ESPOSITO, on the pressure he goes through in a hockey game:

"Sure I'm nervous every time I'm out there. Even when I was a kid, I felt the pressure. All the guys - Phil was the worst - were blaming me when we lost and after a while, I was blaming myself. It's still torture. It's a job, that's what it is, a job. There is pressure every time you are in there. That's the name of the game - pressure. It was torture for me when I was a kid in the bantams, Phil and the other kids bitching and moaning when a puck went by me, and it's still torture when one goes in."

(Hal Bock: "Save! Hockey's Brave Goalies", 1974)

TONY ESPOSITO, on the secret to getting shutouts:

"Shutouts? That's something you don't think about. You like to have confidence going into a game that you'll be hot, but you can hardly say 'I'm going to get a shutout tonight.' Here again, I've been lucky. In a couple of those shutouts, a shot or two has bounced off the post. Besides, a shutout means a complete team defensive effort. [The Blackhawks] have been doing a fine checking job. The defense has improved steadily and the forwards are backchecking really well. A goalie's secrets are a little luck and a lot of help. I've had both."

(Hal Bock: "Save! Hockey's Brave Goalies", 1974.)

BLAINE LACHER, on how it feels to let in a goal:

"It just gives you a sick feeling in your stomach when you let in a goal. Then when you let in another one, you feel like shooting yourself."

(Hockey Stars Presents #41, "1994-95 Season in Review")

FRANK "ULCERS" MCCOOL, goaltender, Toronto, on the loneliness that goaltenders feel:

"If you lose, the fans blame the goalie and the reporters take up the cry. After a while, the other players believe what they read and the goalie feels like it's one man against the world. Everyone else who makes a mistake, it escapes the attention of the crowd. But the goalie? If he blows one, they know it. Pretty soon, the goalie feels like an outcase. The only friend he has is the other goalie across the ice. He's the only one who understands."

(Hal Bock: "Save! Hockey's Brave Goalies", 1974).

KIRK MCLEAN, goaltender, Vancouver, on how tough the goaltender's job is:

"It's pretty tough for a goalie when you look at it. You're always the last line of defense. If you let a goal in you can't go to the bench and hide between the guys or anything."

("30-Second Third Degree", Hockey Digest, January 1995).

JACQUES PLANTE, goaltender, Montreal, on what it's like to play goaltender in the NHL:

How would you like it if you were sitting in your office and you made one little mistake. Suddenly, a big red light went on and 18,000 people jumped up and started screaming at you, calling you a bum and an imbecile and throwing garbage at you. That's what it's like when you play goal in the NHL.

(Klein, Reif: Klein/Reif Hockey Compendium)

MIKE RICHTER, goaltender, New York Rangers, on the biggest enemy for a goaltender:

You're really playing against yourself. You have to learn what you can control and what you can't, and not let what you can't control affect your confidence.

("Super Savers" by Jay Greenberg, _Sports Illustrated_, December 3, 1990)

Skip Rozin, writer, discussing the futility of playing the position of goaltender:

(The) pressure makes all goalies brothers of a sort. And the very nature of their job seperates them from their teammates, while inviting extreme physical and emotional stress. In a sport famous for speeding skaters and non-stop action, the goalie rarely moves from his position; while other players are constantly changing on the fly, he is replaced only because of woeful ineffectiveness or debilitating injury. Goalies must stop shots that can travel at speeds of more than 100 mph, an assignment that can cause nausea before games and even chronic nervous disorders. A goalie is judged only by the goals he gives up, and each one activates a red light that illuminates his failure for the world to see.

("Ice Hockey" (Pathways to the Olympics) - Sports Illustrated)