The team waves at the cameras as we walk down a back hallway out into the snow with our helmets and sticks in our hands. The snow sticks to my eyelashes and cheeks, and I pull on my helmet to keep that from happening. I refuse to allow these conditions to get in the way of winning.
I haven’t played many outdoor games, yet I know how the elements can change things. The puck will move slower than expected, it can reduce the speed of skating, and the equipment team will need to clear snow off the ice to keep it from getting slushy.
The good news is that everyone will have to acclimate to the new conditions. Our opponents are from Texas this game, and a large number of our team grew up playing in snowy conditions.
I refuse to be a loose end, which means I’ll have to get used to the snow real fast.
It’s the best goddamned sport there is with an extra layer of fun. It’ll be fine, right?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KOEN
My grin should scare people. It’s feral, wild, and cruel. I’m in the mood to beat the fuck out of some Warriors today.
This outdoor fiasco was our owner’s idea. Our owner bought the Cougars last year. I’ve only met him a couple of times, but he’s known to be a bit eccentric.
The media is having a field day today with this game since it takes so much money to put on a professional hockey game outside. There are a lot of factors that go into it, but people have been looking forward to this since it was announced last month.
We have to baby the puck a bit while playing due to snow buildup, and there’s less fancy passing we can do due to the elements. Instead, Olsson sticks to tipping the puck through the air when he’s sending it to someone, and it feels as if our skates have to work harder to keep us moving.
Our equipment people are working overtime today, and it’s clear that they’re the MVPs of this game. Heaters are keeping theice from cracking, and periodically we need to pause to wait for the crew to shovel off the snow.
It’s also making things interesting as the Texas team plays dirty by intentionally showering us with snow made by the ice when they stop in their skates. The joke is on them, though, because Coach and I discussed the importance of shielding our eyes from this dirty trick. Unfortunately, it takes Skylar some time to get used to this, so he uses his fists every time a Texan Warrior goes this route.
Thankfully, Rhodes has his crease locked down, and has been keeping pucks out of it. I swear, the alpha is earning himself the sloppiest fucking blow job I can manage after this goddamned game.
Smirking at my thoughts, I join my team in fighting for the puck against the Warriors. Elbows are thrown, I kick out to trip people, and Richards chirps loudly into the faces of our opponents. I don’t care if they leave Minnesota saying the Cougars are rabid and insane, as long as they leave with their tails tucked between their legs.
This is our turf, and nothing less than victory under difficult circumstances is allowed.
A Warrior knocks O’Neil off his skates in the third period, and I shove him as two other people on our team reinforce why that was a bad choice. Continuing to move forward, I skate hard with the puck, avoiding anyone else as I cross the rink.
I can hear people behind me, and the entire outdoor stadium is screaming. Everything feels as if it is vibrating with the level of excitement in the air, and I become laser focused on the goal posts standing between me and our team points.
Someone shoves me, but they’re checked by Skylar, making me smirk as I continue to skate. I can feel the displacement of air as someone slides up to me, and the color of their jersey is theonly reason I notice they’re not from my team. Swallowing hard, I pass the goalie, skating around it with a Warrior on my tail.
I slap the puck with my stick hard enough to make it travel, unable to see where it goes when the Warrior knocks my ass down. The only reason I know I made the goal is because of the howl of the siren screaming our point.
Skylar hauls me onto my feet before dusting me off. His hard eyes move over me before he taps my helmet.
“You good?” he asks, nodding as I grunt that I am.
There’s not much time left on the clock, and we’re up by two points. This game is being hard fought, and we’re all getting tired.
I’m pulled out for a break, and I watch from the bench as my team attacks the Warriors, beating them back at every opportunity. The Warriors want this next point badly, but between the penalties being thrown and my team playing as if this is the last one they’ll ever play, it doesn’t happen for them.
“Yeah!” I yell as the buzzer goes off signaling the game is over.
Jumping over the wall, I join my team with hugs and celebration. The Warriors are good sports as we congratulate them on a good game, and then we move inside quickly as the snow begins to fall harder.
“That was fun,” Skylar chuckles.
“We don’t get to do that often enough,” Olsson admits.
“The logistics of it are a nightmare,” O’Neil mutters. “I fucking loved it though.”
Coach Weightman speaks to us as we shower and change, discussing how proud he is of us for sticking together.
