“Damn right they are,” Danton says. He rises from his seat to reach Coach in the middle of the room and bumps his fist.
“Roysy,” Coach says, “when I took over this team, did you think we were going to be here?”
“Hell, yeah, I did!” Roysy yells out. “As soon as you bumped me down to the third line, where I belong, I knew you’d take us to the promised land.”
“The third line isn’t where you belong,” O’Shea says.
“Yes, it is,” the rest of the team say in unison as Coach Chris walks to Roysy and bumps his fist.
“Ivanov!” Coach says, making his way around the room. “All season, you’ve averaged letting in less than three goals a game. Are you surprised we’re here?”
“Not at all,” Ivanov says, grinning from ear to ear as he puts his jersey on over all of his extra gear. He points at Danton, Clemmers, and the rest of our defense. “This team’s d-core makes my job easy.”
Coach bumps his fist, then makes his way to me. “And what about you, Brandon? Are you surprised we’re here right now?”
“Honestly,” I say as a laugh rumbles through my chest, “yes. I am literally quite shocked thatIam still here. I thought you all would have sent me back to UDub before my first week was over.”
“Mr. Humble over here,” Ryan says as he slings one arm around me then uses his free hand to ruffle my hair, rubbing his knuckles into my scalp as if I’m some sort of a good luck charm. “You’re literally one of the main reasons why we’re here.”
“I doubt that,” I say as he lets me go. Sure, I’ve scored some goals, but this team is full of talent. I’m not naive enough to believe that I, a late-season rookie, was enough to carry them here. “You all would have made it here without me.”
“The fuck we would!” Danton exclaims, laughing. He rises again and looks around at everyone. “Listen, I’ve been captain of this team for a long time. I’ve seen players come and go. I’ve seen people give up on the Mules. But not anymore. There’s a lot of talent in this room. More than most people realize. Did we get here because of one player? Or course not. We got here because finally, after all these years, we are a complete team. All of our offensive lines, and defensive pairings, work. We complement each other. Our goal is well-tended and we can play with confidence knowing not much is going to slip into our net. This is our time. We’re the Mules. And when these Stanley Cup Finals are over, there isn’t going to be a soul in the hockey world who’ll be able to say they didn’t see us coming.”
“All in on one!” Ryan says as he makes his way to the center of the locker room. I follow him, right on his heel. “Three… two… one!”
“Go, Mules!” We all cheer in unison.
Ryan
“What’s up, Kennedy?” I say to Connor as we crouch face-to-face over the dot.
“Christianson,” he says. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Don’t act shy now. You and I have been facing off against each other for years.” Which is true. It’s wild to think about. He, Gavin, Ander, and I were all drafted the same year. Though all three of them drew far more attention and fanfare than I did.
Connor, the star, the generational player. Gavin, the tough guy, the work horse. Ander, the heart, the brick wall. And me. The surprise that no one ever saw coming.
Except for maybe Brandon. He always knew. I look over my shoulder at him now. We lock eyes. He grins at me. He certainly knows what’s coming now.
I’ll admit, Connor is a better player than me. He always hasbeen. But one thing I do better than most, including him, is win draws at the dot.
“What do you say?” I ask. “Friends when this is all over.”
“Definitely,” he says, as friendly as ever. Typical Connor. Always the good golden boy.
By contrast, over his shoulder I see Gavin waiting in the wings. Large and imposing. Friendship is the last thing on his mind.
“Be ready!” I yell to Brandon.
“Shall we get this started, gentlemen?” the ref asks, holding the puck between us like a bone between two dogs, ready to go at it.
“Since when are we gentlemen?” I ask.
“Since right now,” the ref says. He looks back and forth between the both of us. “No dirty stuff here.”
I nod my chin towards Connor. “Tell that to his boyfriend when you toss him into his throne.”
Connor’s eyebrow rises. “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Ryan.”
