Page 136 of For the Boys
They went out onto the ice with about fifteen minutes left until game time. The entire place was packed to the rafters, the building erupting into ground-shaking cheers as the team skated out for pregame warm-ups. Cheers quickly turned to boos as the Regents came out of their own tunnel a moment later.
“Feels hostile in here tonight,” Grey said, skating up behind Brent as they cycled around, taking practice shots at the net.
Brent nodded. “We have to ignore it,” he said. “We can’t afford to be distracted by negative energy. That’s how mistakes happen.”
Brent skated away, snagging a puck and shooting it hard at the net. He looked toward the suite level and thought he could make out his mother and Berkley sitting outside the suite.
I’m going to win this for her, he thought.
What seemed like years later, after all of the pregame fanfare, the puck dropped, and it was time to play.
Brent skated like a madman, trying to be everywhere on the ice at once. He made hard, precise passes to his teammates, put his body on the line to block shots by the Regents, and generated four shots on net in the first five minutes of the period.
He was frantic, needing to get his team on the board, needing to win this game.
Unfortunately, his plan backfired. In the waning seconds of the first period, a Regents defenseman teed up a slap shot and let it rip. Brent moved into the path of the shot, but it caught his leg in such a way that it redirected right into the net.
Goal, Regents.
Brent stood staring at the net, stunned.
Brandon Roberts, the Warriors goalie, tapped his shins with his stick. “It’s all good, man. Shit happens. Go get it back.”
Brent turned from him and skated to the bench before Coach could call him back.
“It’s fine, Jean,” Coach said. “Take a breather, get your head on straight, and be ready to go back out there when I call you.”
Brent squirted some water into his mouth and wiped the inside of his visor with a towel. He hung his head and attempted to, in Coach’s words, get his head on straight.
The goal horn sounded, and Brent’s head snapped up to Roberts, who was slamming his stick against the pipes of his net in celebration. Brent stuck his fist out automatically as his teammates skated by the bench for congratulations, attention focused on the jumbotron where the replay was being displayed.
He watched as Warriors defenseman Jacob Poole skated the puck into the zone and took a lazy shot, attempting to waste some time while the lines changed. Instead, it hit the post and bounced off the back of the Regents’ goalie’s helmet and into the net.
So that’s how it’s going to be, Brent thought.
Brent settled down after that, playing each shift with clear eyes and a cool head, letting the flow of the game dictate his play instead of the other way around, instead of attempting to exert his will on the eleven other players on the ice with him.
This strategy paid off during the Warriors next power play, which didn’t come until the third period, with the score still tied at one. Power plays, when teams had two minutes, sometimes more depending on the severity of the penalty, to enjoy a man advantage and use it to hopefully score, always had a sense of urgency to them.
Brent was running point on this particular power play, sharing the ice with Mitch, Rat, Chase, and Cole. Coach had been shuffling the lines all night and had broken Rat and Grey up in hopes that they would help their new linemates generate some offense.
At that moment, time was running out before the Regents’ fifth man came out of the box gunning for them. Brent accepted a pass from Mitch and tapped the puck back and forth on his stick, surveying the ice. The Regents had formed a box, two players high on the circles, two players low, closer to the net. The two high players were responsible for cutting off shooting lanes from the point, while the lower ones prevented the Warriors from taking any point-blank shots on the net. This strategy gave them the ability to move a few steps left or right, up or down, to block any odd-angle shots.
What they hadn’t accounted for was Rat’s speed or Brent’s accuracy.
Before any of the Regents could react, Brent passed the puck to Mitch. Rat, at the same time, slid behind the Regents player that was protecting his side of the ice. Mitch instantly passed it back to Brent, who wasted no time in winding up for a shot. What Brent was really doing was using a shot to disguise a pass to Rat, who appeared at the perfect spot at the perfect time to tap the puck into the net.
“Nice fucking pass, Jean!” Mitch yelled as he skated up to the group to celebrate.
“It was all Rat’s idea,” Brent said. “We’ve been working on that for a few weeks.”
“Well nice fucking work, boys,” Cole said. They turned and skated to the bench to celebrate with the rest of their teammates.
The Warriors held on, winning the game 2–1 and advancing to the next round of the playoffs.
“Loft party, everybody!” Mitch yelled over the sounds of celebration in the locker room. “It’s mandatory!”
“For everyone?” one of the rookies asked.
