His eyes widened with genuine happiness. “Oh yeah? That’s amazing news. Congrats, buddy. Is she coming tonight?”
“Nah she has a late class tonight, so she’ll catch the end on TV.”
“Oh, hey, Murray’s coming tonight and out for drinks after. Get Emerson to meet us here. We can celebrate kicking some Philly ass for the second time.”
“Oh yeah, good plan. I’ll ask her.” I grabbed my phone and shot her a text before lifting my pads down and putting them over my head.
Coach walked in while we were throwing our jerseys on, silence descending on the room. The assistant coaches stayed on the periphery as he walked into the middle, standing over the sacred Rangers logo on the floor.
His arms crossed over his chest. “Right, team, listen up! Big game tonight, and I don’t need to remind you of what happened last time. You are the New York Rangers. You are better thanthem in every single way. Don’t fuck it up by getting hot headed. Understood?”
“Yes, Coach,” shouted every single one of us in response.
“Good.” He looked around. “Cleverly, Crawley, Marks, Jacobs and Sands, you’re up. Bartlett’s in charge of not letting any goals in. You’ve got five minutes to get out there.”
He walked off.
Coach Campbell would definitely not be in the history books for giving the most inspirational pep talks of all time.
“Walls is going the fuck down,” Huck muttered as Coach left. “He needs to watch his fucking back.”
“Yeah.” Cooper fist bumped him. “Just don’t be stupid, because he’s also a sly fuck.”
I finished lacing my skates and stood up, stick in hand. “You got that right.”
The crowds were going crazy, a sea of blue foam fingers filling the arena. The first period had been hard fought, a few of our guys taking some solid hits, but we played well and clung on to a two-one lead.
We took the ice for the second, lining up either side of the red line, the ref in place with the puck in hand as we got in position opposite Philly. Jack Howards was next to me and already nudging my shoulder hard as we bent down in preparation of catching the puck off the first pass.
“Back off, Howards.” I shoved him back, but not enough that the ref would notice.
Such a fucking tool.
I could see Devon Walls creeping in.
The whistle blew and the puck dropped. I shoved Howards away hard as we won the face off, Cooper taking control and backhanding it to Jasper, who promptly knocked it back over to Coop who’d been left free on the ice before the Philly dumbasses realized what he’d done. He swept it around and over to Felixwho pounded up the wing, the disc on the tip of his stick then knocked it along the boards to Huck, who passed it across the ice to me. I spun round, shooting it back over to Felix, not even needing to look to know he was positioned ready to slam it into the goal.
A flash of black and orange caught my eye, but Felix never saw it coming. Walls cleared air, taking him out from behind, hooking his skate, kneeing him in the back of the thigh as he tripped and went flying into the boards, crumpling to the ice.
All in less than a second.
Walls didn’t even turn around as he raced forward, paying no attention to the whistles blowing like crazy over the cacophony of booing Rangers fans.
“You fucking cunt!” I bellowed, powering after him up the ice, throwing myself against him, knocking him over.
I jumped on him, my fist smashing into his face, knocking his helmet off and it skidded away.
My fists didn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop.
Gloves went flying as he punched me back, connecting with my cheek.
His nose crunched under my fist, blood started pouring.
The ice around splattered red.
I was suddenly hauled backwards. “Drew, dude, you have to stop. You’re breaking his face.”
