Chapter 36 #2
And sure enough, over the stadium’s speakers, I hear it announced that the call has indeed been challenged and will be reviewed.
Coach Chris waves us all to the bench while we await the refs’ decision. “Good one, kid,” he says to me. “That goal is gonna count.”
“There’s no way it doesn’t,” Ryan agrees. “That was a clean goal.”
While the rest of my team enjoys this moment to catch their breath, my heart beats out of my chest. It seems like it’s taking forever for the refs to review the goal and talk to the guys in the control center in Toronto who watch and review everything.
Finally, after what feels like hours but turns out to only be minutes, one of the refs makes his way to center ice. Again, the stadium goes quiet.
“After reviewing the play, we have determined that the puck made it over the line before the player and the goalie collided.” He points at the scoreboard. “We got a goal!”
Ryan
Brandon’s goal gave us a two-goal lead, but the Blizzards haven’t allowed us to coast through the rest of this game. They are pushing us to our max and I worry that we’re on the verge of getting tired and sloppy.
Plus, the fact that Connor hasn’t scored yet doesn’t bode well for us.
In some ways it’s almost best to let him get an easy goal early.
The longer he goes pointless sometimes, the worse it is.
It’s like there’s a part of him that refuses to let him not score.
A special force that makes it inevitable that he’s going to slip that puck into the net in some impressive, demoralizing fashion.
We just have to hold the line. Play strong. Not give him an inch. And for God’s sake, not let Gavin run any of us over.
Which… Slam!
Of course he takes me down the second I get the toe of my stick on the puck.
“Nice try, Christianson!” he yells at me as he skates off with the puck I just lost thanks to his hit. He skates it into our defensive zone, then passes it to Connor.
I quickly get back up and skate furiously forward. There’s a stitch in my side and my breaths are labored. But I skate through it. Now is not the time.
Connor fades left and Ivanov tracks him, then at the last minute, Connor passes the puck between his legs to Tavish. Tavish, without any windup, buries it into our net, making the score two to one with five minutes left to play.
I turn my back on all of them as they celebrate. We forgot the cardinal rule when playing Connor Kennedy. He doesn’t play selfishly. He will always pass the puck, forever finding who has the best shot on goal.
“Brush it off!” Coach Chris yells. He places his hand on my shoulder when I get to the boards by our bench. “Are you alright? It looked like it took you a second to get up from that hit.”
“I’m alright,” I say, taking a short breath around a sharp pain in my side.
He shakes his head at me and gestures with his thumb behind him. “Down the tunnel,” he says. “Let the trainers get a look at you.”
Brandon
Uh-oh, is all I think as I watch Ryan head down the tunnel back to our locker room clutching his side. This can’t be good.
As soon as I get to our bench, I ask Coach, “Where’s he going?”
“Just getting him checked out,” Coach says. He fixes me with a serious look. “He’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” I nod at him. I get it. Now isn’t the time for me to worry. Now isn’t the time for relationship-me to take over. I still have a job to do for the next five minutes, and that job is to win this fucking hockey game.
“Roysy!” Coach Chris yells. “You’re in for Christianson. Keep Bouchard and O’Shea covered. You got it?”
“Of course, Coach,” Roysy says as he swings himself over the boards. He’s sporting quite the fat lip from his earlier bout with Gavin.
When we get to the dot at center ice, Danton has me draw in.
“Oh no,” I say. “Face offs are Ryan’s job. I’m no good at these.” I look at O’Shea, and he shakes his head, indicating he doesn’t want to take the draw either.
Danton places his hand on my helmet. “Quit worrying so much. It’s just a face off. You’ve got this.”
I look and see Connor Kennedy standing there, ready to take the draw for the Blizzards.
“Just toss the puck to him. Why even bother putting me in there?”
“Because it’s your boyfriend who’s down the tunnel right now.
Give him some hope that we can win this thing without him and take the goddamn face off, Baby.
” He lets go of me and pushes me forward.
“Besides, if you lose, it’s fine. Then you don’t have to worry about Gavin hip checking you into next season. ”
I glare at him. “Are you always this optimistic?”
“You know this. Yes.”
“Hey, Brandon!” Connor says when I crouch down to face him. “Isn’t this fun!”
“Is it?” I ask. “Because I gotta be honest with you, my blood pressure is through the roof right now, and I still have a giant bruise on my ass from your boyfriend.”
“There’s no need to make it sound dirty,” Connor says.
I shake my head at him. “You two are insufferable. Do you know that?”
He shrugs then resets his stick. “It’s been mentioned.”
The puck drops and as I predicted, Connor wins the face off. He sends the puck out of the scrum right towards Gavin as my brother abandons their net to bring in the extra attacker.
Danton makes a run for him and slams his shoulder into Gavin’s side.
Gavin barely registers it, and Danton is bounced to the ground.
He gets up and starts skating towards Gavin again, who passes the puck to Tavish.
I’m close enough to him that I can get to him first. With speed, I barrel into Tavish and press him against the glass.
We begin to battle for the puck against the boards.
“Oh shit!” I hear Gavin cackle. “Baby Bouchard has some fight in him!”
Within seconds he’s joined us and now it’s a two-on-one battle.
But they’ve never had to do this with me.
And while I may be small and not built for this kind of punishment, I am quick and able to squirm out and away from their pressure.
I get my stick on the puck and send it out away from the boards, hoping one of my teammates was able to grab it.
I then slip out from between Tavish and Gavin’s bodies.
Once free, I’m pleased to see that O’Shea has the puck. He’s skating as fast as he can with it towards the Blizzards’ end of the ice. He winds up his shot and sends it right into the empty net. The goal horn blares and there we have it. Back to a two-goal lead. This game is ours.
Ryan
“How bad is it?” Brandon bursts into the room to find me sitting on one of the med tables in the athletic trainers’ room.
Wincing, as it still hurts to breathe, I say, “It looks worse than it was.”
“You’re lying.” He comes over and stares at my side. But there’s nothing for him to see. The team doctor had me wrapped up and taped as soon as I got all my gear off.
“Really, it’s not that bad.” I reach for my shirt nearby and attempt to put it on. But I can barely get my arms over my head without having my breath stolen by a sharp pain. Settling myself, I breathe through it, then look back at him. “It’s the playoffs. It’s fine.”
The trainer comes over and hums his agreement as he hands Ryan two pills he’s poured out of a giant bottle of extra-strength ibuprofen.
“He’ll be fine,” the trainer says. “We did X-rays. There’s no broken ribs, just a deep bruise.”
“Are you going to play like that?” Brandon asks, looking like he’s on the verge of panic.
“Of course,” I tell him, feeling warmth run through me as I witness his concern.
It makes my throat tight. “Like I said, it’s the playoffs.
If this was the regular season, I’d maybe take a few games off.
But now? No chance. I’m a Mule and there is no way I am not going to be a part of this over something as trivial as some bruised ribs. ”
Brandon
I never should have doubted him. Two days later, in front of our packed stadium, with the home crowd practically blowing the roof off of this place with their cheering, Ryan scores the game-winning goal in overtime.
He’s screaming from the top of his lungs in celebration.
His mouth is wide open. His eyes are full of adrenaline and intensity as O’Shea and I come to join him, wrapping him in a hug.
Behind us, Danton and Clemmers have their sticks raised above their heads, and from across the rink, Ivanov is skating towards us at full speed.
With that win, we’ve tied up the Stanley Cup Finals, sending everyone back to Buffalo for game five.