Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Brandon
I knew the playoffs were going to be intense, but witnessing the effect this all has on our home crowd is almost unreal.
The entire stadium is humming with excitement.
I’ve been playing hockey my whole life and I’ve never felt an energy like this before.
If the power I sense in this building could be harnessed, it could probably light the entirety of St. Louis and all the interstates leading out of it for miles.
“Pretty crazy, huh?” Ryan asks me as he comes up beside me at the boards to grab a sip of water before both teams’ starting lines meet at the center dot for the opening face off. He offers a squirt to me and I take it.
“More than crazy,” I say, looking around.
Every seat in the stadium is filled. And I swear almost every person in those seats is wearing some form of a Mules jersey.
And they’re all waving our colors—blue, white, and gold—in the air by way of rally towels.
Everyone is on their feet cheering, and the fans with seats on the glass are pounding it with their fists.
The way the glass moves, flexing back and forth, it’s like watching the heart of the stadium beat in and out.
Danton comes to a stop between us and clasps a hand on each of our shoulders. He’s beaming, wearing a wide grin from ear to ear.
“Isn’t this incredible?” he asks, shouting over the noise. “Look at these fans! They know how to show up.”
Coach Chris steps up to us from the other side of the boards and gestures to the rest of the starting lineup to join us.
“This is a big moment,” he says. “Soak all of it up now, but as soon as that puck drops, I need you all to settle in. This game is going to get hard fast. This series might be tied at a game apiece, but Winnipeg hasn’t forgotten they lost game one to you.
And they are angry about it. Don’t let them intimidate you.
Play hard for each other. If you take a hit, get back up and hit them twice as hard.
But also protect each other. They’re gonna come after all of you, but especially you three.
” He pauses and points at Ryan, O’Shea, and me.
“So be ready. Keep your head on a swivel. Got it?”
“Got it, Coach!” we all say together.
He turns his attention directly to me. “You helped get us here, kid. You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, as my heart beats in my ears. I can feel myself sweating already and my mouth has gone dry, but I also don’t think drinking anything right now will help.
Ryan places his hands on my shoulders and gives me a little shake. It makes my stomach flip.
“We’re placing bets again on when he tosses his chicken parm, Coach. Twenty bucks gets you in.”
My jaw drops and I turn around abruptly under his hands to flip him off. The stupid hot bastard has the nerve to wink at me.
“If there was ever a game where he was going to lose his dinner, it might be this one,” Coach Chris says, looking concerned.
“I’m fine!” I protest, even though my stomach is arguing otherwise.
Ivanov, giant in all of his pads, skates into my view. “If possible,” he says, “try to throw up after first shift. I’ll share the hundred dollars I win with you.”
“I’ll do my best to not disappoint you.” I mock glare at him.
He holds up his gloved hand for me to bump, then takes off down the ice to head to his crease.
It’s time.
Ryan
Of all the elements of my position, there’s something about the opening face off that I like best. Maybe sometimes, more than even scoring goals. The first face off sets the tone. It gets the puck moving. It tilts the ice to one team’s favor. Right now, I’m going to claim that favor for the Mules.
The ref is positioned. He has the puck in his hand. He’s checked in with me and my opponent. Three… two… one…
The puck hits the ice and I snap it to my right where I know Brandon is waiting.
He grabs possession of it with his stick and begins skating towards Winnipeg’s zone.
Once he’s at the top of the right circle, he snaps the puck back to me, then immediately takes a hit from one of Winnipeg’s defensemen.
I catch sight of it out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t waste any time being worried.
He’ll be fine. He knows how to take a hit.
And to avoid taking a hit myself, I pass the puck to O’Shea, who’s positioned himself near the left side of the crease.
He takes the puck and wings it back across to the right side.
I spin my gaze around fast enough to catch the moment Brandon winds up, then comes down to one knee as he slaps the perfect one-timer right through traffic and into the back of Winnipeg’s net, surprising everyone.
The lamp lights. The goal horn blares. And the stadium erupts as O’Shea, Danton, Clemmers, and I all converge onto Brandon, pressing him up against the boards in a massive hug.
So much for me setting the tone. Brandon just upstaged me, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
Brandon
I may have scored the first goal, but that only lit a fire under the collective asses of the Winnipeg Brown Bears. We’re halfway through the second period and the score is tied two–two. After my goal, we’ve had to fight for every square inch of ice.
Like right now as I’m battling a player who, I swear to God, is twice my size against the boards for the puck.
He has me pressed all the way against the glass.
I can feel fans pounding their fists on it while screaming and cheering us.
Finally, with a little bit of luck that I’m attributing to my smaller size, I squeeze out from under his pressure and get enough of the toe of my stick onto the puck to chip it away from the boards.
All I can do is hope that one of my teammates is there to intercept it.
From the roar of the crowd, it sounds like someone did.
Now free, I quickly try to track the puck as I skate away.
Clemmers gets a hold of it. He’s passing it to Danton across the blue line, keeping it in Winnipeg’s zone.
Danton sees that I’m finally free, then passes it back to me, but I don’t hold onto it long.
O’Shea is wide open across the ice near the left circle.
I pass it to him and then he takes his shot.
It bounces off the goalie’s pads, but Ryan has timed his skating perfectly and slides right in to catch the rebound. He jams the puck into the net through a small gap their goalie left open between his skate and the post.
“Fuck, yes!” I exclaim and skate directly to Ryan, who has crouched down low and is screaming at the top of his lungs in victory.
Winnipeg’s goalie kicks the puck out of the crease, then slams his stick over the crossbar. “You got fucking lucky!” he yells at Ryan. “It’s not fucking happening again.”
Ryan
It does, indeed, happen again. Though this time it’s Danton who sneaks one past him in the final three minutes of the game.
He looks as stunned as Winnipeg’s goalie does while he celebrates with his stick held high in the air.
“Nice one, Cap!” I say to him as I come over and sling my arm over his shoulders.
“That was a beauty!” Brandon says.
“No, it wasn’t,” Danton laughs. “It literally bounced off my knee and then went in.”
“Hey,” I say, bringing my voice down to a serious tone. “They don’t ask how; they just ask how many.”
“Fucking truth.” Danton continues to laugh and skates away to collect fist bumps from the rest of the team, who are all pounding their sticks against the boards over the bench.
“Roysy!” Coach Chris yells and gestures for the third line to go out onto the ice. “Shut them down. Don’t let their center get out of the neutral zone.”
“Yes, sir,” Roysy says as he hops over the boards. The rest of his line follows. This is where Roysy shines and why I’m so glad to no longer have him on my line. Our playing styles didn’t match the way mine and Brandon and O’Shea’s do.
But damn is he good at what he does. As soon as the puck drops and Winnipeg wins the draw, Roysy slams right into their center as he tries to skate away with it, completely leveling him near center ice.
Roysy continues his run through their defense like he’s plowing through a wall.
He knocks two of them off balance and away from any chance of recovering the puck.
It slides untouched all the way to the other side of the thin red line at the far end of our zone, where Ivanov skates behind his net to claim it.
He holds the puck there until Roysy can take it from him.
Roysy quickly grabs the puck, then begins to skate across the ice with it.
When he runs into pressure from Winnipeg’s defense again, he passes it to his linemate Reinhold, who then sends it to Gauthier.
The three of them are basically engaging in a game of keep-away, and it’s working.
Winnipeg is running out of gas as the clock runs out.
The game is ours. And after this win, we only need two more to make it to the next round.
Brandon
You’d think we won the Stanley Cup itself instead of just game three of the first round of the playoffs, the way we all climb over the boards and head towards Ivanov to line up and give him his post-win hugs. But what can I say, we’re excited. Especially Danton.
He’s the first of us to reach Ivanov and throws his arms around him while cameras flash all around us. After he lets him go he remains close so he can congratulate each of us on our win in turn.
“Hell of a game, Cap,” Ryan says. He taps the C on Danton’s jersey with his fist then skates to me. “It feels good to have done this at home, doesn’t it?”
Grinning wide, I nod my head at him. “It does. It really fucking does.”
But as good as this feels now, I know at some point we’re bound to feel its opposite.
Hockey, for as much as I love it, for as fun as it is, can also break your heart.
And my heart’s already at risk enough. Going forward, I know I need to tether my expectations.
There’s still a long road to go down towards the finish line and it’s filled with places where we can be booted off of it in an instant.
Ryan slings his arm around my shoulders and whispers into my ear, “Stop fretting. We have four more games to get two more wins. Enjoy this one, Baby. We earned it.”
Surprised, I look over my shoulder at him. When did he get so good at reading my mind?
He pulls me into a sweaty hug and says quietly for only me to hear, “I’m proud of you.”
My throat tightens, and my cheeks heat.
But the moment is broken when I hear Jules’s voice. “Cute! This is going to do numbers on our page.”
Quickly, I pull out of Ryan’s hold. He stares at me for a second, then turns away and heads towards the locker room.