Blocked.
The puck ricochets straight to Dex.
Dex doesn’t hesitate.
Wrister.
Back of the net.
The buildingerupts.
The horn blares. Lights flash. Fans jump to their feet.
The announcer’s voice booms through the arena speakers:
“Another one for the Outlaws! Dex Harper with a beauty on the rebound. Two on the board and this place isalive!”
Dex skates by our bench, tapping his helmet, pointing at the crowd like the showman he is. Colby smacks his back. Mason slaps his gloves.
We’re rolling.
Third period hits and the other team starts getting desperate by throwing cheap shots, chippy hits, and slashes when the refs aren’t looking.
One catches me in the ribs.
Not hard enough to injure.
Just hard enough to piss me off and I retaliate.
The ref blows the whistle.
“Two minutes for cross-checking!”
The crowd boos, then chants.
“OUT-LAWS! OUT-LAWS!”
Power play. I'm in the sin bin.
After what feels like time in slow motion, I take the ice again.
The puck moves clean… Mason to Colby, Colby back to me, one-touch to Shelly, then right back to my tape.
Perfect.
I rip a snapshot.
The goalie never sees it.
Top corner.
Another goal.
The arena explodes into pure chaos.
Announcer laughs into the mic:
“Blackhorn with his second tonight! This man is onfire!The Outlaws take the win with a dominant 4-1 final. What a night in Nashville!”
