Page 3 of Heart of Ice

Griffin was right, theBlades had it in for us but mostly Leon was out for blood. Specifically, mine or Randall’s who currently had control of the puck. He raced down the ice to the opposite goal past the center line while Stanton blocked. I glanced at the clock and knew he only had a split second to take the shot. He drew back his stick to line it up just as Leon hooked his skate from behind. He fell face first on the ice, making mecringe as the rest of the team on the ice rushed over and shoved Leon away from him.

Randall was on his skates with his gloves and helmet off in the blink of an eye. Leon pushed up against him a couple of times before both of them started throwing punches. Leon had him in a headlock and hammered away at his face as blood started to spatter on the ice. The refs broke it up just as the horn signaled the end of the period, and everyone skated off the ice.

“I’m going to kill that fucking asshole,” Randall growled as soon as I was close enough to hear him. He slid into the box and over to the end where the medical team was. The new doctor was on it, and I watched as he evaluated him for a concussion. He cleaned him up and shined a light in his eyes ignoring Randall’s anger. I wondered how old he was and continued to watch as he worked. His hands were gentle yet strong as he checked for cuts on Randall’s scalp and didn’t back down when he complained, and after wiping off the rest of the blood and a hit of smelling salts, he was cleared to play.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked Randall, but his eyes were on Leon. That asshole had watched the whole time he was being cleaned up with a grin on his face.

“Don’t worry about me, worry about him,” Randall said. He had a cut above his eye that had been taped, and blood spattered the front of his jersey. Anyone else would have wanted to sit this one out, but not him. He was ready to settle the score.

“Randall, when we go out for this period you go for the score. Fuck these assholes up on another day or at least after we get on the board,” Coach said. Randall’s eyes locked with Coach before he nodded, shoved his helmet on, and slid onto the ice followed by Stanton, and I knew even though we were on offense there was nothing that was going to stop what was about to happen. Tightening the grip on my stick I got ready.

Randall and Leon skated up to center ice while I got settled into the box. At the last minute there was a change, and Eddie Scott was sent out. Our enforcer. “Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath and made sure every pad was secure, my helmet was pulled down, and I was still stretched out enough.

It took a few moments to get everyone settled down enough to even drop the puck as both teams shoved the man they were guarding, but as soon as the puck hit the ice Randall snagged it and passed it to Scott, who didn’t seem bothered that two players from the Blades were as close as they could get without touching him. I ghosted their movements from where I waited light on my blades in front of the net, not willing to give them any opening to score on us.

Then, it happened. Scott passed to Griffin who pulled his stick back and hit the puck at the net knowing their goalie would block it. “Oh shit.” The words drifted over to me from our box just as a loud crack sounded at the other end of the ice. Randall came in fast from the outside while Griffin faked another shot, but he skated past the puck just in time for Randall to smack the puck so hard it flew unimpeded into the top corner of the net past the goalie’s glove.

“Yes!” I yelled and shook my stick in the air. The action moved to this side, and I scrambled to get back into position as Leon passed to another teammate who took the puck behind the net. As soon as it was past the edge he struck.

“Watch it, Hofstedder,” Leon sneered at me before slapping the puck with a loud crack. It slipped past my glove and hit me on the forehead hard enough I felt it through the helmet. Randall slid to a stop in front of me with Stanton on the other side as the three of us fought to block them from scoring. I was surrounded by the sound of other players and sticks slapping ice before the puck was once again launched at me. I blocked it with my stick just as another stick sliced across my shin whichI ignored and slammed myself down to block another low shot. Finally, Stanton slapped the puck down toward our goal and the play moved there.

“Fuck you, rookie,” Leon growled before slowly gliding away. I glanced at our side and Coach gave me a thumbs up while everyone else was focused on the action. Just as I turned back, the siren sounded that indicated we’d scored. Now if I could just survive the rest of the game.

I’d just gotten back into position when play shifted again and our enforcer, Scott, was headed right toward me while Leon and another player blocked him as they passed the puck back and forth. For a moment it was just me at the net since Scott was now behind Leon, but I knew Randall and Stanton would be there to help, which Leon seemed to know too because as soon as the thought crossed my mind, he was in front of me taking a shot. I blocked it with my stick as I squatted down and used my pads to block the net, but I wasn’t able to hit it away from him and he immediately shot it back at me.

“Come on, rookie!” he yelled before slapping it at me again. I countered every shot until the one that was just to the outside that I leaned for and deflected right back to him. He took advantage of the fact I was off balance and flipped the puck into the net.

“Shit,” I yelled before getting back to my feet. Just as I stood Leon rammed his shoulder into mine as he went past.

“Fuck off, Leon,” Randall yelled, and shoved him from behind. Leon spun around and while holding his stick with both hands, hit Randall in his face, which his mask partially blocked. The two men immediately started throwing punches and once again the ice was splattered with blood only now, we were tied.

Four

Ruben

“Jesus, Doc, can yoube a little gentle?” Randall complained while I was once again cleaning him up.

“You’re going to need some stitches after the game,” I said and patched him up the best I could because I knew this wasn’t the end of it.

“Is he okay to play?” Coach asked.

I shined a light in both his eyes, and I knew he wasn’t doing as well as he wanted to pretend he was. His eyes locked onmine, and I knew he knew it too. “No more fights,” I said under my breath, and he nodded. He was healthy enough to play but barely. We were deep in the third period and still tied. The new goalie was doing a great job defending the net, but I knew he was tired and probably bruised in spite of all the padding. He hadn’t come to me with any complaints and since there wasn’t another replacement he was sticking it out—so far.

The refs rushed around the players as both teams skated back onto the ice. “I want the rest of the game to be clean. If I see any high sticks or hooking, you’ll be ejected since sitting in the box isn’t doing a damn thing,” the ref said as he stood between Leon and Randall. The puck dropped in slow motion as everyone held their breath waiting for the moment it touched the ice. Time sped up and the two of them slashed and sliced their sticks until finally one of them connected with the puck and it shot away, and over to the Blades’ possession.

Tensions were high as a few more players left the ice with injuries. So far in this period there hadn’t been a major fight, but you could cut the tension with a knife. Play was intense and fast paced as they passed and drove the puck to each goal before attempting to score.

“Get in there, Stanton,” Coach yelled from next to me as the Blades caught a pass and rushed down the ice. Leon tried to shoot against the Titans’ goalie and came up short when it was blocked. The goalie passed the puck to Griffin and had just turned back into position when another Blades player hit him with his stick as soon as he was close enough. It caught him just to the side of his knee and I knew he wasn’t padded enough there to not feel it. He flinched and I moved forward trying to get a better look just as play passed in front of me.

“He’s going to need some help with that knee,” one of the other players said to me as I continued to watch the goalie stretch and try to ignore how much pain had just been inflicted on him. Hismask hid his reaction, but I knew that hit would leave a mark. Action at the other net got everyone’s attention and I looked that way just in time to see Griffin slap the puck high enough for it to slip past the goalie’s glove and into the net. The stadium erupted in cheers, and after a quick glance at the clock I knew if the Blades were careful, they could possibly score. The noise was deafening as they took control of the puck and hurried down to where the Titans’ goalie now waited in front of the net.

“They’re gonna try to take out the rookie,” one of the trainers said, and leaned against the plexiglass as all the players moved to the goal. “If he’s lucky they run down the clock.”

There were still two minutes left on the clock and their movements became more erratic and frantic as they started taking shots toward the net hoping one of them would make it through. The same player who had hit the goalie earlier hit his foot with the stick before slapping the puck right into his face. If he didn’t have that helmet on, he’d be spitting teeth. He stumbled back and sticks and gloves were dropped as all the players nearby started fighting. One of the Blades’ big players grabbed Griffin and shoved his head down then pulled his jersey over his head before punching him three times right in the face.

“Come on, ref,” Coach yelled.

The horn blared that signaled the end of the game, but the fight didn’t stop. Now all the players were out of the box and either trying to pull other players apart or throwing punches of their own. The ice was littered with helmets, sticks, and jerseys that were either torn off or pulled off during the mele. I stood there frozen, not sure what to do and not willing to get in the middle of the mess that was taking place right in front of me. One of the trainers looked at me before looking at the coach who glanced at the scoreboard, and once he confirmed they’d won, crossed his arms and did nothing.

---