The third period starts the same way the first two ended.
Hit. Recover. Hit again.
But something’s different now.
I’m watching them differently. Chen’s voice echoes in my head -you don’t fight strength with strength. You use timing.
The next time their defenceman winds up to hit me along the boards, I see it coming a split second before he moves. His eyes lock onto me instead of the puck.
I pivot.
He hits nothing but glass.
The puck stays on my stick.
I slide it to Zane.
He scores.
The bench erupts.
Something shifts after that.
Not the physicality - the Wolves keep hitting, keep trying to intimidate - butme. I’m not where they expect me to be anymore. I’m half a step faster, half a step smarter.
They’re getting frustrated.
I can see it in the way their defenceman slams his stick against the boards after missing me.
Then we get a power play.
Everything is going our way.
But just when I think we can win - that’s when it happens.
ZANE
The power play is beautiful.
Russo runs it from the half-wall, drawing defenders before sliding it to me at the point. I one-time it toward the net -screened perfectly by Shaw, who’s parked in front of their goalie like he weighs fifty pounds more than he really does.
The puck deflects in.
2-0.
The bench loses its mind. Even Chen pumps his fist from the crease.
I find Shaw near the boards as we change lines.
“That screen was disgusting.”
I can see his smile behind the helmet cage.
We’re winning.
We’re actually winning.
The Wolves are desperate now.
