The Hockey Player (Matt Sturniolo)

Savage

Matt's POV

An hour before the game started, the locker room was crammed with busy sounds. Pads were put on and taken off, readjusted to the right size. Ankles, wrists and fingers were taped up. Finally, an eerie quiet of excitement went around the room like a class waiting for a test.

And my eye socket tripled from swelling. Pain rose to the surface of my skin, and I didn't want an earful from the coach, so I put my helmet on and kept my head down.

Part of Coach's job was to use words to inspire us and motivate us to victory. None of us needed motivation to win, but every bite of inspiration sometimes made the difference between victory and defeat.

"Listen up!" Coach barked at us. "Normally, I'd start these with telling you all about my 'feelings'. My hopes and fears of playing soccer were shattered by a loose lace. For that unchecked lace, I could've been the greatest. But I'm stuck here, coaching you pansies"

He earned the usual laughs, which lightened the mood before he dropped the hammer on our heads.

"Today isn't the day for me to relive my failed dreams! Today is the day we face those bastards!" His lightening mood went back to a scowl. "There's no laughing from their locker room now"

"I'm going to do something different and turn my mojo to your captain" He waved his hand at me. "Who has some pearls of wisdom that are supposed to make the bullshit that's plunged this team all week disappear and get everyone back into their happy place before we take the ice"

The coach leaned against a wall behind him. He raised his eyebrows and clenched his jaw.

I resisted rolling my eyes. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Coach. "Thanks, Coach. Big shoes I'm stepping into" After being on their asses all week, scolding them like children, I wanted to smooth things over. We needed to be on the right foot, before I led them to battle.

I faced the team and took a deep breath, looking around the locker room. The weight of tonight's game pressed the team's season and their future. "It's been a rough week" I started, glaring at Baylen. "Some of us got it worse than others. But that's life. Life is hard, and it doesn't take breaks"

"Life doesn't go to plan" I glanced at Nate, who was scowling, no doubt from his family pressure. "We know these guys can play dirty, but so can we!" I furrowed my eyebrows. "No one will hand us what we want. We have to go out there and earn it. To take our victory from our enemies!"

"If they hit us, we get up and shake it off. Then we hit them harder" A few heads nodded at my wisdom. "We are better...faster...meaner...and tougher than any team in this fucking state"

A warm, electric sensation grew inside me at how the vibe of the room became.

By the burning look in everyone's eyes, we all felt the rush. We tasted it. The kick was hard as drugs , a high that fuelled me to train my body and put my body through hell.

Since Aurora loved English Lit, I wanted to throw some Shakespeare at the team. King Henry's 'pump me up' speech. Odds were in my favour, since I was the only guy here who knew who King Henry was. "From this day to the end of the world, we will be remembered. We few, we happy hateful few, we band of brothers"

Except maybe not Baylen. I mentally subtracted him from my band of brothers. "Everyone's here to see our victory! College scouts and recruiters are here! Your family and friends are here! Let's go out there and show them how hard we hit, how much we want this until we win the war!"

"Win on three!" We circled up, three to four guys deep, arms extended inward like a wheel. "One, two, three...Win!"

"Win! Win! Win!"