Page 279 of On His Team

“Then we have very little time,” Stanley grins.

Somebody laughs. Then somebody else does, and the room loosens by about half an inch.

“Oh, God, Stan.”

“Captain's last words to me. Beautiful.”

Fuller walks in and waits until most of us are looking at him before he starts.

“They’re entering with speed because we’re giving them too much room through the middle. Tighten it up before the line. If they chip it, turn and get it. Don’t back all the way to the fucking circles and hand them the zone.”

He points once at the board, changes where he wants the weak-side winger, then steps back.

“That’s it.”

Stanley is sitting across from me with his helmet off, hair soaked through, still breathing hard from the end of the period.

“One more,” he says.

Benson looks over. “Don’t start counting.”

“I’m counting goals.”

“Don’t do that either.”

Stanley thinks about it while he takes a drink. “That’s very restrictive, Reeve.”

A couple guys laugh.

Benson shakes his head and looks away.

Stanley points the bottle at him. “I’m a legend, remember?”

I laugh into my water while Benson tells him to shut the fuck up, and for about ten seconds it doesn’t feel like we’re twenty minutes into the biggest game any of us have ever played.

Then the warning horn sounds outside the room.

Stanley puts his helmet back on.

Nobody has to tell us to get up. We go.

Michigan gets the lead early in the second. They come through neutral ice with speed, and for once our gap isn’t good enough. Their winger gets outside, takes the puck wide, and turns the corner before we can close him. Percy pushes across with the play, but the pass comes through first, and the shot is already off the stick by the time he gets there.

It hits the far side of the net.

The Michigan bench is on its feet before their guy reaches the corner.

I turn toward center while Percy takes a second inside the crease, then pushes himself upright and gets his mask settled again.

The scoreboard changes above us.

2–1.

For the first time tonight, we’re chasing.

The next few minutes get rougher around the whistles. Michigan has been trying Blue all night, little shoves after Percy covers the puck, sticks hanging around longer than they need to, somebody always finding him when everyone should already be skating away.

At 9:14, Percy freezes one through traffic and the whistle goes.