“No. This...I’m done.” I make sure my voice carries. “I’m not going back on the ice to play someone who thinks it’s okay to insult me this way. If he had just called me an idiot that would be one thing. But this isn’t chirping. I wouldn’t ask anyone to put up with that.”
“Yeah, it’s fucking discrimination!” Nate growls.
Silence follows his words, then the bench creaks as several others sit down.
Hill nods, once again looking at all of us. “Alright, a vote. Who’s for stepping out?”
I don’t look up, not wanting to influence anyone.
“Who’s against?”
My arm goes up; I don’t want to know if I’m the only one, so I don't look up.
“That’s settled then,” Hill hums, then leans over the railing to talk to the official. “With all due respect to your decision, we won’t continue the game under these conditions.” His voice is clear and firm.
The referee’s mouth twitches, like he just bit into a lemon.
“Are you sure? It’ll mean you forfeit. The Badgers will win by default.” He looks at Coach, who merely raises his hands. This is our decision, and he will not step in.
I have to swallow hard to keep the scratch in my throat down. My team has my back.
“Absolutely. We’re sure,” Hill reinforces, setting his shoulders.
“Alright.” The referee skates over to the other team.
“I–” my voice breaks off before I get out another word. Nate’s hand squeezes my shoulder.
Our captain just nods from his spot at the banister.
“Can’t have some fucker think he can run his mouth,” Baker mutters next to me, undoing the straps of his helmet. “Sucks about the game though.”
Some others grunt in agreement, and I nod along. It really does suck.
I’m about to loosen the clasps of my helmet and guards, when voices get carried over from the other box. We all turn our heads to look.
“No!” I recognize Nicko’s voice when he shouts out. “That’s not okay! I don’t want to win like that!”
“What are they doing?”
“Looks like Hoff’s staying off the ice too.”
“What?!” I push up from the bench, leaning against the banister next to my captain to see where he points across theice. And true enough, two orange figures have stepped out of the box, but the rest are still standing in it. One at the front is shaking his head, determined.
Nicko’s eyes find me. I stare at him, hoping he’ll stand down, that it’ll all be over.
He doesn’t though; instead, he shakes his head again and turns toward his coach as well as his teammates.
We don’t catch any of the words that are being thrown around until several of the officials join the fray. Eventually Nicko sits down. The rest of the Badgers stagger around for a moment, then, one after the other, they sit too. The ones that are on the ice raise their hands, shouting angrily, but no one budges.
Finally, the referee steps into center ice again.
“Due to insufficient number of players on the ice, the game will be delayed for fifteen minutes.”
Nicko, March 29th
The moment the locker room door falls shut, my teammates pounce on me.
“What the absolutefuck, Hoff?!” Zollweg yells out as he grabs me by the front of my jersey. I reach for his elbow, both to steady myself and to keep him from getting into my face.
