AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Adding Skilled Right-Winger Nolan Solvenson to Rookie Brent Oliver’s First Line Proving to be a Masterful Move
On a Mid-Season Winning Streak, That Solvenson Trade is Paying Off for the Wolves!
Another trade made at the deadline gave us Benjamin Perry. A big, strong left-handed winger, he was the final piece to the puzzle. Even with far-from-elite second, third, and fourth lines, it didn’t matter. Not with me, Benjamin, and Nolan on the first line. We couldnotbe stopped.
Benjamin—or Benny, as he’s known to the team—is adept at using his size and muscle to check the hell out of any sorry soul who happens to be matched up against him. He simply wears other players down…and then it’s a fucking scorefest. Thanks, in part, to his killer slapshot.
Together with Nolan, a sniper in his own right, we were—and in many ways still are—quite a force to be reckoned with. We destroy teams, though not as much lately. But back then, man, we were racking up so many points that the press branded us the OPS line, as in Special Forces.
The OPS Line’s Snipers of Oliver, Perry, and Solvenson Eliminate the Competition with Ease
There’s Nothing Covert about This Line’s Scoring Prowess
We worked our reputation to our advantage. Trash-talking on the ice and taunting players became our pastimes. We also happened to get a lot of pucks in the net.
Ah, the good old days.
We still trash-talk and taunt, but we aren’t as lethal as we once were.
“We just need to get back on track,” I murmur to myself. “The season doesn’t start for a few more weeks. I’ll have my shit together by then.”
I better, since I’m the captain of the team. If I go down, we all sink. And that’s not fair to anyone, especially not to my linemates, Nolan and Benny. Over the past couple of years they’ve become my best friends, which is a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing that we play so well together, but it’s a curse that we also have a tendency to fuel each other’s vices.
God knows this off-season we’ve become far too focused on partying and women. Like me, my linemates are extremely popular. Hell, let’s not mince words—we’re gods. In the hockey world, it’s good to be a god. Guys want tobeyou and girls want todoyou. Multiply that all by a hundred if you’re not an ogre in the looks department.
And none of us are.
Not to brag—though, I guess I kind of am—but I have the most women falling at my feet. Hell, I’ve had women who’ve wanted tolickmy feet.
Like, literally.
There was this crazy bitch this one time…
Wait, I digress. Back to where our team is today—floundering in a sea of mediocrity.
After that first good regular season, we fell apart during the playoffs. A dirty hit that sent me flying into the boards also sidelined me with a concussion. It didn’t end there. More bad luck plagued our team. Nolan went into a scoring slump, and Benny took a punishing check against the boards that broke his foot. We were knocked out of the playoffs in the first round.
I went to Minneapolis, my hometown, to sulk.
“Next year will be different,” my always-positive father tried to reassure me.
He was wrong.
We missed the playoffs entirely the following year, for reasons still unknown.
Then there was the season that just ended this past spring—another disappointment.
Las Vegas Wolves Fold, Knocked Out Once Again in the First Round
Needing a break from all things desert-life, I said to Nolan and Benny, “Fuck this shit.”
That was over three months ago. We were in the middle of cleaning out our lockers for the summer. My linemates looked at me, confused.
And then Nolan finally asked, “Fuck what shit, Oliver? What are you going on about over there?”
“Everything,” I replied, gesturing around the empty locker room. “We’re done, finished. Let’s get the hell out of this place for a while.”
I meant Las Vegas the city—and I think Nolan was catching my drift—but Benny misunderstood.
