Sitting down, I strip my jersey and pads off before taking an electrolyte drink that’s handed to me by one of our support staff, along with an iPad so I can review some of our plays.
“How fast did they clock you, Kane?” Foxx calls out as he retapes his stick.
“One hundred and one,” he grins. “Not even Cayden could have stopped that one.”
“I’ve stopped faster,” he responds in the corner as he adjusts some of his gear. “Just be thankful you’re on my team.”
“Stone, you’re kicking ass out there. I can barely keep up with you,” Hayes laughs, as he uses a towel to wipe the sweat off his chest and arms.
“Then skate faster,” I retort, keeping my eyes on the screen and memorizing where their goalie’s weaknesses are.
His sweaty towel hits my head, and I toss it away.
“You smell like shit,” I growl, causing him to chuckle.
“No, that’s just McCormick sitting next to you.”
“Fuck you,” Thane hits back while re-tying his skates.
It doesn’t matter which team you play on in hockey—the locker rooms are always the same. Some like their silence and put on headphones to clear their mind and stay focused, while others like banter and fucking with each other to let off steam and relax.
The eighteen minutes fly by like they always do, and after a strategy talk with some of the coaches, we are gearing up again, eager to be back on the ice.
We dominate the second period, and by the time we near the end of the third, I can tell the other team is getting frustrated by the number of times unnecessary fights are breaking out.
A cocky grin appears on McCormick’s face as he taunts the other player before stepping into the penalty box with me.
“Well, this is a first,” I chuckle. “I’m used to seeing your ugly face in the other box next to me, not sharing one.”
“Yeah, I’m still getting used to it. I kind of miss beating your ass on the ice.” Throwing his helmet off, he squirts water in his mouth and spits on the floor.
“Zimmerman must have hit you in the head harder than I thought for you to be saying bullshit like that.”
“He wishes he had gotten a shot at me. All that pussy wanted to do was take my clothes off.” He adjusts his pads and fixes his skewed jersey. “Did you see how he’s playing? Zimmerman and Sully have it out for us.”
“They’re just pissed they can’t catch us,” I grin. “All we have is five minutes left once this penalty is over, and they know with the score five to one that they don’t stand a chance, so now they’re just fucking with us.”
“How about we make it six to one once we get out of this box? You’re one away from a hat trick, and even though I hate to admit it, you’ve outplayed us all tonight and deserve to get one more fucking puck in.”
“Did you just compliment me?” I arch my eyebrow and throw my helmet back on as the seconds tick down to when we can escape this sin bin.
“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles. “Maybe I really did hit my head.” He shoots me a smug look before his helmet goes on.
Grabbing our sticks, we stand and wait for the final two seconds on the clock.
“Let’s do it,” I say, as our skates hit the ice and we’re thrown back into the game.
I avoid getting pummeled by Sully as I take control of the puck. I know he’s just looking to put me back in the box, and normally I’d take the bait, but I’ve got something I want more.
McCormick flanks my right as Hayes gets into position on my left. I shoot it back to Kane at the center line as he passes it to Foxx on the opposite end. It’s clearly a game of keep away, letting the minutes tick down as we maneuver and pass the puck with a skill that leaves everyone in the stands on edge as they try to keep track of the black object.
Just when we get down to a minute, I position myself right where I want to be. The goalie has been slow tonight with the upper left net, and that’s exactly where I’m going.
McCormick gets the puck and sees an open opportunity with me as he makes the perfect pass to the curve of my stick, as I flick it up and to the left of the net. I watch it land behind the red line as the light goes on, giving me my first hat trick of the season.
Hats descend from the stands and cover the ice as the crowd’s deafening roar fills the arena.
My team huddles around me as we celebrate the win, joined by the other players on the bench. Cayden skates over, and I tap my helmet to his. He played a damn good game, keeping our net count low tonight.
