To the naked eye, of every field assignment in sports involving a stick, a ball and full contact, lacrosse goaltender appears the most indelibly linked to lunacy.

Or at least a predisposition is helpful.

He or she stands in minimal protective equipment, including none covering at least three locations where it would seem essential. A dozen or more players swirl about in all four directions.

Thirty times per game – sometimes twice as often, or perhaps a smidgen fewer – somebody winds up and rifles a hard-packed, rubber ball at a speed approaching 90 miles per hour. The shooter’s sole intent: Steering that ball into a cage with dimensions scarcely taller and wider than the goalie’s own.

Goalies don’t have the luxury of closing their eyes, so spectators do it on their behalf. It’s often followed by a gritting of the teeth while awaiting the ugly, hollow, telltale thump.

“It kills,” said Lewiston High School girls’ goalie Stephanie Belanger, “but you shake it off and you move to the next shot. I don’t let little things like that bother me.”

Good high school lacrosse goalkeepers might smother a dozen shots in a typical game.

They’ll catch roughly half in the oversized net at the end of the stick (“crosse”) that’s considered part of the protective equipment.

The rest will leave red, purple and black tattoos on whatever part of the anatomy is blessed enough to be in the way. And you know that little subchapter of Murphy’s Law that guarantees you’ll keep stubbing a toe or bumping a knee that’s already sprained or swollen? It inexorably applies to lacrosse’s last line of defense.

“It seems like the same spots have a magnetic attraction for getting hit over and over again,” said St. Dominic Regional High School boys’ coach Jim Dock, who played goalie in high school and college. “For me it was the left shin, and to this day it hurts to put on a ski boot because of it.”

Protect yourself

The dangers aren’t always a laughing or nagging matter.

James Hendrick, a 16-year-old goalie for Fletcher (Fla.) High School, blocked a shot with his chest protector during a game in February 2008.

After scooping up the rebound and firing an outlet pass to a teammate, Hendrick collapsed. He’d gone into commotio cordis, a rare but frequently fatal heart arrhythmia that can occur with a blow to the chest between heartbeats.

Coaches administered CPR, and an external defibrillator helped restore Hendrick’s normal cardiac rhythm and save his life.

Lacrosse rules require goalies to wear a full face helmet, throat guard and gloves along with the chest protector. A longer stick with a larger basket than the competition’s offers relative peace of mind.

Because they would impede mobility, shin pads aren’t mandatory. Ask Edward Little High School senior Derek Vachon, who walked away from a demanding recent game against Lewiston with both legs heavily bandaged.

The bread basket is wide open.

Dock laughs at the absurdity that male goalies aren’t obligated to wear a protective cup.

“You’d have to be certifiably crazy to climb in there without one,” Dock said. “Everyone who’s ever played the position has taken one in that region. And even with a cup, it doesn’t help.”

Nature or nurture

Some goalies accept their destiny to play the position from day one. Dock’s present protégé, Cody Rodrigue, is a freshman who guarded the cage throughout his career in local youth leagues.

Others, such as Belanger, essentially are drafted. Yes, sometimes out of need and desperation, but also because a coach eyeballs potential in the player’s footwork or hand-eye coordination.

Now a senior, Belanger played two years in the field until Lewiston coach Christy Gardner made her fateful sales pitch.

“She did not like the idea. I can’t imagine any player who’s used to scoring wanting to take that on,” Gardner recalled. “She said, ‘I’ll try if you want me to,” and, ‘Can I try it without the team there?’ So we actually threw around a little bit. I gave her a goalie stick and gloves, and within 45 minutes she could clear accurately to midfield. That just doesn’t happen in high school.”

Gardner empathized with the trepidation and mixed emotions. She was a field hockey player at Edward Little, graduating in 2000 before the school adopted girls’ lacrosse.

Having never seen the game until after arriving at Long Island University, Gardner was recruited by teammates to play its most thankless position. Their lessons led to a scholarship and eventually a berth in the NCAA Division II final four.

“It’s a lot the mentality,” Gardner said. “You can’t just stick any kid back there.”

Belanger’s knack for being in the line of fire extends around the sports calendar. She also was the goalie for the Blue Devils’ state championship squad in Maine’s inaugural season of girls’ ice hockey.

Follow the leader

As is the case in hockey, a lacrosse team can saddle up a hot goaltender and let him or her lead the way to victory.

Elliot Chicoine gave Lewiston such a lift one recent Friday night, shutting out Edward Little for more than 38 minutes to conclude a 10-3 victory.

“He’s got a short memory, which is a very good thing,” Lewiston coach John Brubaker said of Chicoine. “He came up with some huge, point-blank saves which no goalie is ever expected to make. He came up with them late in a quarter, late in a long possession, right when we needed them.”

Chicoine, who spent a year learning the sport at North Yarmouth Academy and is in his first season as a varsity backstop, bristled at the suggestion that luck and skill might be equal partners.

“A lot of the times it’s repetition. Muscle memory. You know where the ball is going and know where to be in position,” he said. “I like the pressure. The game a lot of times comes down to if you can be there for your team.”

And the occupational hazard of getting whacked by a stick, belted by a ball or leveled by a 200-pound opponent?

“After a while you kind of get used to it,” Chicoine offered with a smile.

Lacrosse goalies are compelled to ignore such one-in-a-million anecdotes as the Hendrick case. They are better protected than baseball pitchers, far less endangered than a prone football wide receiver.

And yes, they tend to err on the side of daredevil.

“I just stand my ground. I stay big in the net,” Belanger said. “I think I can say now I love standing between the pipes and taking the ball for my team.”

Belanger stopped as if she realized that her words defied logic.

“It’s crazy,” she agreed. “But whatever my team needs, I’ll do it for them.”