Page 22 of Drop the Gloves
There were two games left before they traveled out west, and looking ahead at the Riveters’ schedule, they wouldn’t be spending much time in Pittsburgh until late December.
So if Evan could just avoid Barczyk for the next week, maybe this fighting thing would blow over.
As long as it didn’t come up in a game (aka he didn’t get his ass kicked), he could argue he didn’t need any more lessons.
It was a bit of a shame, though. Everything he’d worked on with Barczyk was useful.
Evan might never fight in a game again, but if he did, he had some strategies he could use to hold his own.
And it was kind of fun. The practice, not real fights.
Those were stressful. Tragically, Evan didn’t hate spending time with Barczyk. He maybe kind of enjoyed it.
That was the problem. He enjoyed it too much.
“Nevada plays an aggressive game,” Coach Jack said in the locker room. “Be ready to get pushed. Don’t let them goad you into playing anything other than our game.”
“He means you, Barzy,” someone called, and everyone laughed.
Coach Jack looked unamused. “We are drawing penalties tonight,” he said, enunciating each word, “not taking them.” He never looked Barczyk’s way, but they all knew the warning was only for one person in the room.
“Get this win at home. They’re gonna be a lot harder to get once we start traveling.
I want higher than a wild-card seed this year, boys. Get it done.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“You going to listen to him?” Vassiliev muttered under his breath once Coach Jack had left.
“I’m never trying to go to the box,” Barczyk said indignantly. “The refs got it out for me, I swear.”
“Might be your reputation,” Evan said. “Preceding you and all that.”
“What are you implying, Abs?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Evan bit his lip so he wouldn’t be tempted to smile.
* * *
During warm-ups, Evan dutifully went to his spot by the player benches. There was no getting out of his new pre-game routine with Barczyk. He’d found it best to get it over with, so he patiently stick-handled while he waited for the inevitable—
WHACK!
Evan sighed and pushed his puck towards center ice. “How many are we at?” he asked. “Five hits? And isn’t it my turn to whack you?”
“Is it?” Barczyk skated around and stopped in front of him. “Better make it six. Need a little extra luck if I’m gonna stay outta the box.”
“It is your turn,” Evan said. He might not be much into this ritual, but it was hard to forget getting his ass whacked the game before. “If there’s actually any good luck in this, haven’t you ruined it?”
“Nah, it’s thought and positive intentions. How ‘bout we split it? I do two more, then you can smack me three times. Make ‘em count, though. None of those wimpy ones you did last time.”
Evan rolled his eyes. He stood there stoically while Barczyk got back in position and hit him twice in quick succession.
When Evan swiveled around for his turn, Barczyk was already facing away with his stick slung across the back of his shoulders, bobbing back and forth with the music blaring in the arena.
What a goof, Evan thought as he swung his stick around for the first blow. Barczyk stood there, barely moving until Evan finished his third swing, then he promptly fell to his knees and doubled over like he’d been beaten instead of lightly tapped.
“You done?” Evan said. At least Barczyk couldn’t see him laughing.
Barczyk jumped to his feet. “Yep. Let’s work that good mojo.” He bumped his shoulder against Evan as he skated off, twirling his mouthguard at the corner of his mouth.
The Scorpions came out strong, just like Coach Jack had warned them.
Most of their defense was structured around bodying people off of the puck and physically clearing out the slot.
Evan was kind of jealous, if only because he was consciously doing as much as he could to be more physical on the ice, and these guys did it as easily as breathing.
As easily as Barczyk did it. Where Evan and Vassiliev would endure the blows and keep playing, Barczyk would shoulder or push back.
Once he knew they were gunning for him, Barczyk braced for every hit and laid his own, which only made them come back harder for him.
Since a lot of it was behind the play and away from the puck, the refs were letting it go, so it seemed to get worse and worse as the game went on.
One Scorpion knocked Barczyk’s stick from his hand, so Barczyk body checked him over the boards onto his own bench.
Another defenseman tied Barczyk up on the boards so he couldn’t get to a loose puck, so he grabbed him by the back of his jersey and yanked him back so hard he fell.
When Barczyk was working low in the crease, the goalie knocked him over from behind but managed to lose his stick in the process.
Barczyk accidentally-on-purpose stepped on the stick repeatedly with his skate before kicking it into the back of the net.
He’d only walked away from that one because Evan and Vassiliev stepped in at the whistle to escort him to the bench.
“You’re toeing that line,” Evan said at the end of the second period. They were tied 1-1, and somehow neither team had gotten a penalty. Yet. “Maybe you should, like, chill?”
“Can’t now,” Barczyk said, gaze fixed on the play. “That’d be putting more of a target on my back.”
“He’s right,” Vassiliev said. “He’s annoyed them too much. They won’t leave him alone even if he stops.”
They were right. Evan watched Barczyk take and dish out more abuse the next shift, and when they went into the locker room, Evan swore he spotted a half a dozen new bruises on Barczyk.
It wasn’t any better in the third, because Travis Walker made a beeline for Barczyk as soon as their line took the ice.
Walker had been with the Riveters for the past four seasons before moving to Nevada during free agency.
Evan had been sad to see him go—he was a solid defenseman and would occasionally join him and Dalton for mini-golf—but Evan hadn’t thought much about playing against him.
It was in fact the first time in Evan’s career that he and Walker were on opposite sides of the ice, which was surreal every time he caught sight of Walker.
For better or worse, he’d been ignoring Evan and Vassiliev all game. Walker must’ve been given Barczyk duty, because he’d been the main instigator and recipient of Barczyk’s on-ice attention. It was only a matter of time until their shenanigans were too much for the refs to ignore.
After all the things they let go, it was a weak slashing call that finally got the refs to blow their whistles.
Evan was shoved below the goal line and went down.
From the ice, he had a great view of Barczyk swatting at Walker from behind.
A whistle rang out, and Evan did a double take when he got the puck because there was no way that had been the first penalty of the game.
The ref pointed at Barczyk and, for the first time, Evan agreed he was getting an unfair call.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Barczyk screamed as he took his mouthguard out, presumably to make his complaining clearer. “That’s fucking embellishment! I barely even touched him!”
“Get in the box, Barczyk,” the ref said.
“It’s not embellishment! You fucking tripped me, dickhead!” Walker shouted back. He’d been on his knees on the ice, and, despite knowing Walker, Evan was inclined to agree that he was milking it.
“Shows how fucking much you know. They’re not even trying to call me for a trip, dumbass,” Barczyk shot back. “Right, ref?”
The ref made a face, looking between the two players. “No,” he admitted.
“Because he fucking embellished it, and since I barely touched him, he doesn’t even know what he’s trying to embellish! Never mind how he was roughing up Abs behind the net—”
“I used to be on this fucking team!” Walker yelled, his face red in embarrassed anger. “You’ve been on the Riveters for two fucking minutes. Who are you kidding, pretending you’re sticking up for Abs? I played with him for two and a half years—”
“You’re not on the team right now, and you fucking crosschecked him. Don’t pretend—”
“Enough!” yelled the ref. “Barczyk, get in the box. Two for slashing. Walker, get out of here before you get two for unsportsmanlike.”
“What!?” Walker looked appalled. “I didn’t do shi—”
The ref started raising his whistle to his lips, so Walker held up his hands and skated away.
“Smartest thing you've done all night,” Barczyk called after him. “Skate away like a little—”
And that’s when Walker came back and punched Barczyk square in the face.
* * *
“Did you see Barzy draw that penalty? Fucking textbook.” Dalton fistbumped Barczyk on his way to his stall.
They’d won 2-1 against a very disgruntled Nevada bench.
Their line had mostly gotten benched after the Walker incident, only going out when Coach Jack was sure he could control the matchups enough to guarantee Walker wouldn’t be on the ice with them.
In the end, they’d won with a late power play goal from Moreau after a delay of game miscue from the Scorpions’ goalie.
Still, the most memorable thing about the game was Barczyk getting Walker to sucker punch him.
Barczyk winked and shot him a finger gun. “All in a night’s work.” His chest was bare except for his shoulder pads. Despite the bravado, he seemed tired. “Luckily your boy punches like a middle schooler, or I might have more than a black eye.”
“He’s not our boy,” Evan said. He liked Walker well enough, but he hadn’t much liked that he’d been competing with Barczyk for cheapest hockey play. He liked it less that Walker had won.
Barczyk turned the full weight of his hazel eyes onto Evan. “Am I your boy?” he asked, unblinking as he watched Evan.
Evan’s mouth went dry, which was the only thing that saved him from answering because he didn’t trust what he might say right now.
“Of course!” Vassiliev wrapped an arm around him to envelop Barczyk in a side-hug. “Walker is such a shit.”
“He’s not that bad.” Evan swallowed; Barczyk was still watching him. “He wasn’t that bad when he played for us,” he amended.
“Yeah?” Barczyk teased. “Bet my old teams say that about me too.”
Evan couldn’t help it; he looked away.
“Walker always was a punk,” Vassiliev said, unaware of the tension between his linemates. “But he was cleaner with us. The Scorpions dropped the first seven games of the season. They’re playing desperate, and it shows in players like Walker.”
Talk shifted as the coaches came in to debrief them after the game, and Evan, for once, relished the breakdown. It gave him somewhere to look other than two stalls to his left.
* * *
Walker
Yinz wanna go grab drinks later? We’re in town until tomorrow afternoon
Miss hanging out with you guys
Ten minutes passed.
Walker
***
Five minutes passed.
Walker
Wtf this isn’t about that thing with barczyk is it?
That guy’s a dick I can’t believe you’re stuck with him this season
Vassiliev
Well you did crosscheck abs
Kates
It was a little much the way you went down
I don’t know if barzy even touched you
Lawson
The punch was also uncalled for
Walker
You fucking kidding me right now?
Abs, tell them this is bullshit
I didn’t crosscheck you, that was a clean hit
It’s hockey it happens
Vassiliev
No you leave the kid alone
We saw it from the bench it was 100% a crosscheck.
Walker
It was not!!
Dalton
[a gif of the crosscheck]
Walker
Ok fine sorry abs that was a bit much I should’ve laid off you a bit there
Doyle
[a gif of the slashing call against Barczyk, complete with Walker flopping to the ice immediately after contact]
Walker has left the chat.
Abernathy
Guys was that necessary?
Doyle
He brought it up
* * *
Walker
Hey Evan I’m sorry about that hit. The guys were right that was too much
Abernathy
Don’t worry about it. It’s hockey.
Walker
I knew you’d understand bro
So is the team really all buddy buddy with barczyk now??
Abernathy
He’s not so bad
Walker
Yeah right
Oh shit you’re being serious
For real?? You’re okay with that dickhead?? I remember what he did to you last season
Abernathy
Don’t worry about it. It’s hockey
Like you said
Walker
Wtf Evan what i did and what he did are NOT the same
You got right back up iirc
That is NOT what happened when he hit you
Abernathy
Not sure what you want me to say
We’re teammates. However much I like or dislike him I still gotta play with him
Walker
You just like him because he does the dirty work for you
You never have to get your hands dirty making the big hits the rest of us do
Abernathy
So you’re complaining because he does the same stuff you do
Walker
That’s not what I said
Abernathy
Look I’m not trying to argue
Thanks for the apology. I didn’t think anything of the crosscheck or whatever
No hard feelings promise
Walker
Good
Hit me up when you’re in Nevada if you wanna hang out