“Maybe you should be nervous,” I toss back. “We were getting our asses handed to us out there and you all were taking in the view.”
I expect him to sling an insult at me, or tell me to focus on the game, because that’s his love language. But the surly bastard just smiles. I’ve got no time to figure him out though, because I’m too busy watching the play on the ice. It’s tense as hell out there, and we’ve got them sweating, which is right where we want them. Well, we want them to lose, of course, but this is a necessary step in that process.
Ollie gets clipped and the refs don’t even call it, but that’s to be expected. They haven’t been calling shit all night. Ollie’s had enough, though, and I’m afraid he’s gonna run his mouth and get tossed. I’m not usually the guy who sees things from an objective point of view, but even I know Ollie doesn’t want his college career to end this way. Thankfully, Coach calls a time-out, so our Captain can get his head on straight. The breather is necessary, but I don't want us to lose momentum. The guys get back on the ice, and keep the Bucks from scoring, but we don’t sink any, either. I
When it’s time for my shift, I don’t bother looking at the clock. It’s gonna do its thing, and I’m gonna do mine. Some guys obsess over it, but that’s not me. I bump fists with Blue as we trade places. “Shut this shit down. I’m too tired for OT.”
I laugh because I know he’s beat, but this is the kind of shit that energizes me. I could keep playing all night. But no one on the ice shares my opinion, I can guarantee that. Both teams want this game to end, and they want it to end in their favor. With a tied score, that means everybody is gunning for the net. Everybody and their freaking mother is taking a shot, but nothing’s going in. Neither goal wants the winning goal on his conscience, so they’re both working double time.
Hell, we all are. There’s not a man out here who’s not giving it all he’s got.
McGovern slips past Jenksy and takes a shot on goal. It’s fucking textbook, and I can practically see our guys cringe as it soars toward the next. My best buddy throws his body across the net and bats it away without a second to spare.
And that changes things. It’s one of those momentum shifts that can make the difference between a win and a loss.
Bretton’s pissed, so they’re turning up the heat, and that’s fucking fine by me. If I’m going down, I’m doing it in a blaze of glory. I’m not standing on the ice watching the other team score. I may not have Blue’s power, Wagner’s speed, or Leo’s ice I.Q., but I’ve got an endless supply of energy, and right now that’s what my team needs.
Everybody on the bench and in the stands is on their feet, so I know without checking the clock that we don’t have much time left. The whole freaking arena is up and cheering, no doubt hoping we take this into overtime. That might be exciting from a spectator’s point of view, but I’m not sure my guys have another twenty minutes in the tank.
Leo’s thinking the same thing I am because he takes the puck right off McGovern’s stick and glides into play. He’s not giving up easily, and neither am I. Wagner nabs the pass but he can’t send it back to Leo because half of Bretton's team is all over him.Deano’s caught behind the net, but Wagner’s got to get rid of it. Jesus, it feels like the ice is crawling with Bretton players.
There’s not time to think or strategize. There’s no time to get in the right position or to start a distraction that frees up another player. Nope. The only thing to do is take the blind pass that Wagner sends my way. I’ve seen him execute it with Blue a million times and I know just what to do. My job is to send it right back to Wagner so he can send it home to the net.
But he never reappears. The fuck? All the sudden I’m flying a solo mission into enemy territory. They must have twenty guys out here, or at least that’s what it feels like.
Finally I catch sight of Dutton’s jersey, but I don’t have a clear shot on him. I fake like I’m gonna take it anyway, and I look at him, expecting to see panic in his eyes. Instead, the bitchy bastard gives me a wink. A mother-effing wink.
So I wink back.
And then I take my shot and send the puck gliding forward and sliding right into the back of the net.
There’s total chaos as the game ends. Confetti fills the air. Fans are cheering. Guys are slapping each other on the back.
JT comes up from behind and nearly tackles me to the ground.
We won the Frozen Four.
We’re taking home the title for the second year in a row.
And I just scored the game-winning goal.
Holy. Fuckballs.
25
Mickey
The Bainbridge Wolves know how to throw a party.
And, no, I’m not talking about the ones we threw at the old hockey house. We did have some good times, though. Maybe a little too good considering the fact that the house literally fell apart.
But this party is different. It’s a celebration of our win at the Frozen Four. We’re back on campus and the university is pulling out all the stops so our families and fans can show their support and have a good time. My folks are here, along with various aunts, uncles, and cousins. I’m sure my mom is feuding with a few family members, but right now she’s talking to the dean’s wife about some reality show they both love, so I’m not going to bug her.
I know she and my dad are proud of me. They were there in Vegas when we won it all, and for the first time in a long damn time, I felt like I was enough, but not too much. I knew I’d done a good thing. I knew they could brag to their friends about it. And as shitty as that sounds, it made me feel good.
It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t need their validation, or anyone’s really. But I do. Maybe part of that is due to the fact that mygame-winning goal might soften the blow when I tell them about my graduation woes. That’s gonna suck. My dad will rant about how he’s not paying another dime to the university, even though most of my tuition has been covered by my athletic scholarship so far. My mom will blame it all on my ADHD and try to get me on about a thousand meds. And yeah, they help. Until they don’t. Or until they turn me into a zombie.
Yeah, that is one conversation I’m going to avoid as long as possible.
