Page 283 of On His Team

“Yeah.”

“Rowan,” he warns.

I nod. “I can go.”

He stares at me for half a second, then points toward the ice. “Then move it before it tightens up.”

I stand. The first step hurts like hell. The second one is worse. By the time I get to the door, I can skate on it.

There’s 1:11 left when I go back over the boards. My first few strides are ugly, but once I get moving, it holds. That’s all I need from it.

The faceoff is in our end. Benson crouches over the dot with Blue beside him, Mackey is on my right. Michigan has six skaters again and no goalie.

The puck drops.

Benson wins it back, but not far enough. Blue gets a stick on it along the wall, Michigan gets another one underneath his, and suddenly four guys are jammed into the same few feet of ice trying to move a puck nobody can see.

It finally kicks loose toward the middle.

Percy drops over it before anybody else can reach it.

Whistle.

I look at the clock.

Forty-one seconds.

Half our bench is standing now.

We line up again.

Michigan wins this one and gets the puck high before we can pressure. They move it once across the point, then down the wall, looking for something through the middle. I stay inside because my leg is not giving me enough to chase even if I wanted to.

Their winger gets the puck near the circle and throws it into the slot.

Twenty-two seconds.

Someone gets a stick on it. The shot comes through anyway. Percy takes it high off the shoulder. The puck drops into the corner. Still out. Owens gets there first and manages to knock it farther along the wall before Michigan closes on him. It isn’t enough to clear, but it buys us a few seconds.

Blue comes through behind him. He gets the puck on his forehand, turns his body between it and the guy reaching for him, and sends it hard up the boards.

This one gets out.

More than out.

The puck keeps going all the way into Michigan’s end.

Fourteen seconds.

Their defenseman has to turn.

He reaches the puck near his own goal line with eight seconds left and wheels back up ice.

Seven.

They come through center as fast as they can.

I am standing just inside our blue line, trying to keep my weight off the outside of my left leg without giving away the middle.