Page 66 of Drop the Gloves
“Get to your bench, Barczyk.”The ref sighed in exasperation.“I’ve got enough to deal with.I don’t need you causing more ruckus.”
“I would never.”He sent Evan a loaded look but did as he was told, leaving Evan to face the consequences of his actions.
“I appreciate it when you guys don’t argue,” the ref said as he led Evan to the penalty box.“Makes my job easier.”
“Probably be easier if we didn’t commit any penalties.”Evan waited patiently for the attendant in the box to open the door for him.
The ref laughed.“That’d be nice, but I won’t hold my breath.The day hockey players stop doing dumb shit on the ice, I’ll hang up my skates and retire.You guys’ll keep me plenty busy until then.”
Evan settled into the box and looked up at the Jumbotron.They showed his very blatant charge from several angles, each one earning hysterical boos from the crowd.When Evan looked at the Gliders’ bench, he was relieved to see the player joking around with his buddies.He looked happy to have been the one to draw the first penalty and waved off a trainer who leaned over to talk to him.
No harm done, Evan supposed.But he wasn’t proud of himself.He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but Evan had meant to knock him over.Maybe that was how Barczyk did it.He’d found a way to harness that part of himself where he could focus on the check and separate it from the possible consequences.It had been freeing (and a little gratifying) in those seconds between deciding to teach that guy a lesson and realizing what he’d done.
“Don’t sweat it, kid.”
Evan turned to look at the penalty box attendant.The guy was in his late sixties and probably called every player a kid, so Evan let it go.“Sweat what?”
“You look upset about the penalty.Don’t sweat it.You’ve been having a good game, and this team, they do a good job of getting under people’s skin.”He paused, giving Evan a chance to take in the screams of the arena and the sound of someone hitting the boards not far from them.“You accept you did a little too much, you sit your two minutes, and then you forget about it.You’ve gotta learn to let it go, son.”
“Sure,” he said.Then, “Thanks.”He turned back to watch the game, because what else was there to do?
I accept that I did too much, he thought.I went too far, and it’s fine.I’m going to let it go and not let it change how I play this game.
He repeated it like a mantra as the penalty timer ticked down.When the attendant opened the door for him, Evan jumped onto the ice, and the impossible seemed to happen.
He let it go and played some really good hockey.
28
“Abernathy!”
Evan froze as he took off his elbow pads.The locker room was filled with reporters, again crowded around Barczyk as they asked about the aftermath of his first game against the Gliders.As the lone goal scorer, Doyle had his own troupe of reporters around him, as did Farrell for the shutout.Evan very rarely had the press interested in him, and it always seemed out of politeness.A few extra quotes they could add to their collection and use if necessary.
But when he looked up, there was a trio of reporters in front of him with their cell phones out.They waited for his acknowledgement, so he swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “Hi.”
Needing no more invitation, they went at it.
“This was an exceptionally physical game for the team,” a woman with dark brown hair said.“You’re not known for your hits, but you were among the most aggressive players out there for the Riveters.Could you tell us a little about that?”
“Uhh...”His brain, helpful as ever, refused to come up with any actual words for what felt like a full minute.“I was?”
The woman nodded, more patient than he deserved.“The Riveters recorded over forty hits tonight, which is closer to what we see in a playoff game.You were responsible for seven of those, including the one against Aimo Kinnunen in the third.You average less than a hit per game over your career.What was it about tonight’s game that inspired you to change your performance?”
“Seven hits?”And then, because he wasn’t as smart as he should be, he asked, “How many did Barczyk get?”
“Five,” the woman said, her lips quirking in a smile.“Should I take it that’s the answer to my question?”
The other reporters laughed, and Evan tried to smile but wasn’t in control of his face at the moment.He’d beaten Barczyk.Holy shit.
“Wow, that’s a first,” he said, which earned another laugh.He joined in, letting their amusement catch hold so he wouldn’t have room to think about later.“Yeah, Barzy’s a good role model for how to play a physical game.It’s not how I prefer to play, but there are some teams and some situations where it’s needed.Tonight felt like one of those games.”
“Did you feel the Gliders were being unnecessarily rough in how they played?”
Evan hesitated.He’d had enough media training to know what would sound good to fans and what might piss people off.As a kid, he’d hated when players had given generic, bland answers, but those were the safest.
“Philly’s a physical team,” he hedged.“They came out hard, so we matched that intensity.”
“Did you think they were targeting Barczyk and your line?”
