Page 21

That wasn’t fucking fun! I can’t believe I’m staring at my little brother celebrating a goal he just scored on me not even two minutes into the first period. Like, what the fuck? Who the hell does he think he is?

“Chill,” Connor says to me, stopping at my net. “It’s just one goal.”

“One early fucking goal,” I grumble.

“It’s fine,” Connor says. “Settle in. We’ve got this.”

I squirt some water into my mouth, then shake my shoulders and settle back in as I take a deep breath. It’s fine. It’s no big deal. Was that the fastest I’ve been scored on so far this season? Yes. Is it the first time we have given up the first goal this season? Also yes. But does it matter? No. We’re only two weeks in. This was bound to happen eventually. And in theory, who better to do it to me than my own little brother? But conversely, who worse?

It’s fine. I just need to focus. So I settle back into my stance in front of the net and wait for play to start again. While I wait, I fail at ignoring my brother skating past his bench getting fist bumps from all his teammates. I fail at ignoring the jumbotron showing my parents wearing their specially made half-Blizzards half-Mules jerseys cheering for him in the stands. I fail at ignoring the noise.

So I take another deep breath and focus on the one thing in this building that can hold my attention. Ivanov across the ice. As the goalie, he’s not celebrating Brandon’s goal with the rest of his team. He’s holding his position as he’s supposed to. Mind the net. That’s our job. No matter what, we always need to mind our fucking net.

Focusing on him while I wait for play to start again, I ready myself to lock this game down from here on out. Nothing else is getting past me. Nothing. There will be no other goals. Not for the Mules at least. No way. No how. They are going to lose just like they did this summer against us for the cup.

This time, when the puck is dropped at the faceoff dot, I’m determined to never let it out of my sight. With my eyes, I track it as it’s passed around the ice. When it enters my team’s defensive zone, and therefore gets closer to me, I watch it with laser precision. I see it even while the Mule’s biggest man, Reinhold, screens me in front of my net attempting to obscure my view.

Not today, Reinhold. And not again, Mules. No more goals for you.

Foley takes a shot, and I deflect it with my stick.

Roysy gets control of the puck, then attempts to get it past me. It hits my blocker pad instead and bounces away from me, and heads right to where Ryan is skating.

Wait. When the fuck did he get back on the ice?

Shit.

He hits it top shelf and it pings off the crossbar then slips behind me right into the back of my net.

“Fuck!” I scream out as the scoreboard switched to two zero.

Nikolai

This first period has been incredible. I have the best seat in the house from my net. I don’t miss a minute of the action as I watch this game unfold down at the other end.

The score is still two zero as this period gets close to an end. There’s only a minute left to play before we get an intermission break.

Not that I need it. The ice is so heavily tilted in our favor tonight that most of the action has stayed clear of our zone. Occasionally, like right now, I get to leave my net to intercept a puck that was sent down to our end and clear it for one of my teammates to come grab.

The Blizzards are struggling and trying everything they can, but my team is relentless. They won’t let up and have had the Blizzards on their heels the whole first period.

There’s a part of me that is starting to feel for Ander. He took those first two goals pretty hard. He’s been locked in since then, but regardless, our lead remains. No one can win all eighty-two in a season. If the Blizzards were smart, they’d have expected this one as a loss. There is no way in hell that we are going to lose this game.

How could we? As the team who lost the cup in the battle between our two teams, we were always going to come out with more fire. A larger chip on our shoulder. A reason to prove ourselves. And yes, we’re already off to a great start this season, having won eight of our first ten games, but this is the one we all circled on our calendar as the real start to our season.

Finally, the buzzer goes off, marking the end of the period. The Blizzards look exhausted after those intense twenty minutes. Unlike my team who are all leisurely making our way off the ice and down the tunnel to the locker room.

“Hell of a first period!” Coach Chris says as we all file past him. “Take a breather. Hydrate. Refuel. We’re not done yet. Two more periods. But we’ve got the lead. Let’s not lose it.”

Ander

This period has to go better than the first. That was merely a fluke. In the next twenty minutes we will turn this game around. We have to.

“Quit fucking around out there!” Coach Matthews barks at us as we retake the ice after our eighteen-minute break. He’s pissed. And rightfully so. “I will bag skate all of you tomorrow if you have another period like that. So get your heads out of your asses and fucking play some hockey!”

“You good?” Gavin asks me as we step back out onto the ice.

I turn to face him so he can see how serious I am. I focus solely on his face. He’s been the rock of this team for years. He got promoted to captain this season. I won’t let him down. “I’m good.”