Page 60 of Drop the Gloves
Worse, he didn’t want to hear Barczyk say he wasn’t sorry at all.
So Evan quickly said, “It’s November, guys.I doubt there’ll be much mini-golf until we hit Nevada and Texas.”
Everyone accepted his redirection back to mini-golf, and Evan let out a shaky breath.
“It shouldn’t be so bad in Maryland,” Barczyk countered.“They’re in the south, right?”
“They’re only one state farther south than us.”Winchester shuffled the UNO cards.“They’re not fucking Florida.You two playing or just yapping?Dalty cannot handle the distraction when we play.As if this isn’t a kids’ game.”
“Deal me in,” Barczyk said.“Abs?”
He shook his head.“I’m gonna nap.”
“Bor-ing.”Barczyk winked before turning his back to him, full attention on the UNO game.Though Evan appreciated that he leaned back against Evan just a smidge, a comforting gesture that helped Evan relax enough to drift off.
26
Baltimore was a tough one.They lost 4-1, which was doubly depressing since it’d been the Blue Crabs who had knocked them out of the playoffs in May.Evan didn’t think the Crabs were all that much better than them, but seeing them again and hearing the crowd had brought back bad memories.The Crabs had gotten in their heads before the Riveters ever took the ice, and it showed up again and again on the scoreboard.
“You didn’t even fight someone,” Vassiliev grumbled in the locker room after the game.“We got our butts kicked and nothing to show for it.”
“I tried!”Barczyk protested.“I couldn’t get anyone to bite.Not even Nilsson!He’s been harder to piss off ever since he made up with his brother or got a boyfriend or left Portland or whatever the fuck it was that made him level-headed.”
He looked disgusted, though Evan suspected he was more frustrated that he couldn’t get under Lars Nilsson’s skin anymore as opposed to anything Nilsson had actually done.
“That team’s been locked in the past couple of years,” Evan offered.“They get some of the fewest penalties of any team.”
“Locked in,” Barczyk mocked.“They've got no fighters is what it is, so they've gotta avoid playing rough altogether.Look at their captain.Jake Campbell’s a pipsqueak?—”
“Isn’t he taller than you?”Vassiliev asked.“Like everybody?”
“—and barely throws the body.No wonder they got clobbered in the Conference Finals.If you can’t play tough hockey, you ain’t bringing home the Cup.”
Evan said nothing.He’d come to appreciate the physicality Barczyk brought to the game, but he still didn’t think instigating fights had a place in hockey.Pushing and shoving in front of the net or along the boards, fine.Tricking someone into throwing a punch, kind of dumb.
“You know whowillfight you?”Vassiliev said later after they’d had their turn with the media.“We go to Philly next, yes?They will not make things easy for you.”
The hair on the back of Evan’s neck bristled.You didn’t just leave the Philadelphia Gliders and expect there to be no hard feelings among the fans.Philly fans were passionate, to put it politely, and took every player’s departure as a personal offense.The more beloved the player had been, the longer Philadelphia held their grudge and the more vocal they were for blood.
If it were someone like Evan, someone mild-mannered and flying under the radar, it would only be a few boos here and there when he got the puck, and their interest would wane at the end of the season.
Riley Barczyk had been one of the most popular players in Gliders’ recent history.They’d eaten up his antics and relished every hit, every punch, every takedown.It didn’t help that there was nothing quiet or subtle about Barczyk’s playing: the fans would know he was there, the Gliders would know, and both would do their best to show Barczyk that they didn’t appreciate him being on the wrong side of the ice.
Probably for the rest of Barczyk’s career.
“They didn’t make it easy when I played for them, either,” Barczyk quipped.“Ten years no playoffs, but the fans got the balls to tell us how to play.I ain’t playing for charity.I’d like another Cup, thank you very much.”
“And you think you could do that in Pittsburgh?”Evan asked.
He’d wanted so desperately to make the NHL, then to get his footing with his team, and then to get a solid contract.It wasn’t that Evan didn’t want to win the Stanley Cup, it was more that it was so far down on the list that he hadn’t let himself think about it the past few years.Sure, he’d indulged last season when they were in the playoffs, but he’d come so far and fought so hard.He told himself he was satisfied with what he had.
He had to be.Chasing the Cup was The Dream, but it was so damn hard.Players way better than him worked their entire careers for it and never won.Evan could play his heart out, but if his team wasn’t up to it, it’d always be out of reach.
Barczyk shrugged.“I don’t see why not,” he said.“We get our foot in the door come April, we’ll see what happens.”
Vassiliev stood up and flicked Barczyk’s ear on his way out of the locker room.“Try not to get murdered in Philly,” he said.“Can’t win the Cup if you’re dead.”
* * *
