Page 64 of Puck Me Secretly

Me: Agreed

But we both knew they wouldn’t. The NHL was notoriously lenient with their fans and it’d take a lot worse for them to call the game off. NHL fans have rioted in the streets to show their displeasure. Food dumped on players would not stop anything.

The game raged on and with three minutes to go, we were in a tie. Max looked fierce and focused. I held my breath during an amazing breakaway and then he scored a goal that put us ahead. In frustration and rage, Joseph jumped off his bench and skated towards Max wanting to fight. Six Minnesota players against five of our own. By the time the refs pulled both teams apart, everyone was bleeding including two of the refs. They removed Joseph from the game for the second game misconduct of the night and the penalty boxes were overflowing.

The crowd was becoming increasingly insane. Peoplescreamed and jeered. Everyone was standing. I saw a group of guys start to brawl one section over.

Dad called my cell phone.

“Hello?” I shouted.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s bad.”

“The crowd acts like they are about to riot.”

People screamed like savages around me. “They might.”

“Are you near the ice?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to get yourself to the green room. Now.”

I didn’t need telling twice. “Okay.”

“And tell Baxter I want him to call me the second he has a chance.”

“Okay.”

We won 5-4, and once our team was off the ice, I met up with Baxter.

He wore a pissed off expression. “What?”

“The GM wants you to call him.” It sounded marginally more professional than saying, “Call my dad.”

CHAPTER 23

Thirty minutes later,the players and management gathered together. Baxter wanted everyone to move out to the bus as a group.

Dave, the assistant coach, instructed us. “We head straight to the bus. You keep your head down. Now we can’t do anything about the fans lined up, but you can ignore them and whatever they shout at you, is that clear?”

No one said a word.

We opened the door and filed out. The Minnesota fans that were lined up behind waist-high metal gates, went ballistic when they saw the Wolves file out of the dressing room.

“Max, you dumb fuck, why don’t you come over here so we can show you how we feel about you?”

“Hey, Max. I heard the reason Flanynk fought you is because you tried to suck his cock.”

“Max. Who paid you off to lose the cup for us?”

I kept my head down, willing myself not to acknowledge the angry men that lined up on the other side of the short fence. Baxter shoved past me, knocking me towards the angry men. I righted myself and hands grabbed me. Hands from the other side.

I screamed as more hands yanked at me. My feet lifted off the ground and I felt myself being pulled over the gate. I fought with panic, but they were all too strong, too big. Someone pulled my hair. I could feel my shirt ride up as more of my body got dragged over the gate.

I felt a pressure from behind me as a big body slammed against me. Warm mist sprayed my face. Something connected with my cheek, a fist or an elbow, perhaps. It hit me so hard, I saw stars. People jeered and screamed around me and then, two big, warm hands, from my side of the fence, lifted me. Above the grabby hands, above the fence.

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