DURHAM, N.H.—As a highlight reel in the making unfolds on a Saturday afternoon, the emotions of two Crimson skaters emerge on the play.

Freshman Sarah Vaillancourt carries the puck towards the left side of the net. She’s trailed by tri-captain Nicole Corriero down the center lane. With one defender to beat, Vaillancourt shows every intent of shooting, then slips a pass across to Corriero, who gathers the puck and fires it past the goalie.

Vaillancourt watches as the puck hits the back of the net. The red light flashes. The compatriots raise their arms in celebration, overwhelmed by the significance of their accomplishment, as the crowd rises to its feet with roaring applause. Nothing can take away from this moment.

But on that play, there was no puck—all pucks and equipment had been collected. There was no defender, no goalie to beat; the two Canadians were the last skaters on the ice. The red light did not flash, and there was no crowd or ovation, only a few lone spectators.

As the Harvard women’s hockey team skated off the ice at the conclusion of its final practice Saturday, Vaillancourt and Corriero stayed on the ice for some unfinished business.

It was the end of Harvard’s final practice of the season and, after repeated re-enactments of scoring goals, the two practiced celebrating on the ice to the amusement of those in attendance.

While coaches and players alike try to include elements of fun in the final practice of the year—even when these practices take place the day before the national championship game, as was the case for Harvard and Minnesota—the episode of Corriero and Vaillancourt rehearsing their post-goal celebrations is a bit more revealing than just how comical two Canadians can be.

“Sarah practices everything. She practices 99 percent of the chances of something happening,” Stone said. “One day we practiced before Christmas, and she stayed on the ice longer practicing falling down and getting up and shooting.”

“And I was like, ‘What are you doing?’ And Sarah is like,‘I might fall down and might have to shoot the puck so I’m going to practice it.’ Literally, for about 50 times she came off the blue line, fell down, went off her belly, and got back up and shot the puck. She said, ‘You’ve got to practice everything.’ That’s the kind of kid she is, just great fun, great demeanor and enthusiasm.”

It was not so long ago that Harvard, sitting uneasy with a 7-6-1 record in December, was being counted out of the national title hunt by many of the hockey elite. During that time, an often-frustrated Corriero tried to cope not only with bearing the burden of the team’s scoring, but also captaining a Crimson lineup that had lost as many games in a month that some Harvard squads of yore had lost over the course of two seasons.

During that same period, Harvard’s top line of Corriero, Vaillancourt, and Julie Chu was not meeting expectations.

“We put them together and it wasn’t working for them because they were trying to do different things on their own,” Stone said. “They needed time off to appreciate being together.”

“It has been just a growth period this whole time,” Chu said. “At the beginning of the year, we weren’t really finding each other. We were more like three individuals playing with each other. Coach broke us up, and that was a wakeup call. If we want to play together, we’ve got to get together and play together as a group and come together as a line.”

When Harvard bounced back with a vengeance, surging through 2005 with a 21-game unbeaten streak on the eve of the NCAA championship game, one of the primary factors to the team’s success was the chemistry between the first-liners.

“Since Christmas, we’ve really stepped it up in practices and in games,” Chu said. “We’ve been moving the puck well, but we’ve also taken the time to goof around with each other, doing fake celebrations or what not. I think that’s part of it—we’re all out there for each other and trying to build each other up.”