Page 54 of My Pucking Crush

Max

O nly four teams in professional hockey history have come back from a 0-3 deficit in the postseason to win all four following games.

It’s unlikely. Not unheard of. Not impossible.

This situation with Richmond and what they’re capable of, though, means these next four games will be nothing short of brutal.

Unless we end this tonight.

We’ve backed them against the wall, and they have nothing to lose since they’re already statistically eliminated. This is where gentlemen are separated from the goons. The spoilsports who don’t see you as the team that will go on to represent the East Coast united against the West. Richmond has all the makings of sore losers who want to send us to the finals bruised and broken.

It’s just a game, right? There’s always next season. Not for me. I’m aching to win the finals one last time and secure my legacy with this team.

My phone rings as I’m about to put it away in my pants, and I cringe seeing my mother’s number. Under my name, of course, because I pay for their phones.

Why are they even calling? Do they want tickets to the next game? I doubt it. And if they do, too bad. I gave the next game’s tickets to Willis who’s got eight siblings and they always come out to see him play.

I can’t get two fucking people to show up. Right now, I don’t care what Mom and Dad want so I let the call go to voicemail.