Page 157 of Stand and Defend
First period and we’re down by two. 0-2.
I shout to the team, trying to boost morale after the opponent’s second goal. “We’re here to win a trophy boys, but this is our ice and our fans, so have some fucking fun out there! We play our best when we’re happy, so I better see every one of you motherfuckers smiling!”
“Energy, boys! Energy!” the defense coach adds, clapping.
We are not underdogs, and we will not play like it. There’s a ton of hockey left. We’ve got more than a chance at winning. Every single one of us can put a puck in a net, we’ve been proving it all season.
I clap Lonan and Rhys on the back as we swap out the defense line. “Let’s get it, fellas!”
When it’s my shift, my skates hammer the ice as I get into position. A puck battle breaks out along the boards near Florida’s net. I’m able to flip it out to Rhys, who passes to Lonan. He takes the shot, and it sails through, right behind the goalie’s left glove. We clamor onto him, screaming. “Fuck yah, Burke!!” From the bench, I hear the coach yelling, “It starts with one, boys! It starts with one! Let’s go!”
1-2 at the first intermission.
In the locker room, we refocus. I sidle up next to Barrett and lean back, matching his posture. “How are you feeling?”
“Top of the world.”
“Yeah?”
“How could I not? My last professional game and we’re at the finals? I mean, how many players get a shot at winning their last game before retirement? It doesn’t get better than that. I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole career. We made it.”
“Wish we could have done it with Sully.”
“Yeah, it would be nice to have him with us tonight. You had big shoes to fill, and you succeeded, right out of the gate.”
“Well, you know what they say about big shoes...”
He chuckles and shakes his head.
I lean forward and knock my elbow into his knee. “Thanks for being my mentor this season.”
“Thanks for being my captain. Proud of what you’ve done for this team and for yourself.”
Shit, I’m gonna miss Conway. He holds his fist to me, and I tap it with mine. “If you make me bawl like a bitch, we’re gonna have problems.”
We get another short speech from Coach before we head back out. “Talk to the refs. Keep that line of communication open. Protect your brothers, protect the net. Dig deep, boys.”
About ten minutes in, the tension is high. We’re near our net, fighting like hell to get it away from there when their forward, Gilles, takes a shot on goal. I hold my breath. It bounces off the net post, and we all exhale. Dude’s done it twice this period, and I can’t help but give him shit about it.
“Damn, Gilles, you smoke pole like a champ. You get that talent from your mom’s side or your dad’s?”
“At least I know what end of the ice to stay on. Want me to draw you a map to our net, asshole?”
Matty recovers the biscuit, and we chase it to their end.
He sends the puck to me, I pass behind me to Paek, who sends it to Burmeister, who dekes and returns it to me.Those two are stealthy as fuck. I get the shot and take it. And it clears the net.
2-2.
The foghorn sounds, and the arena erupts into madness. We’re tied. The guys crash into me. “Atta boy, Banksy!”
“Beautiful!”
It was a pretty stellar fucking pass between the guys, and Burmeister’s deke was glorious.
I skate by Gilles and grin. “Thanks for that map, bud.”
He gets in my face, skating toe to toe, and I smile big, waiting for him to do something.