Page 75 of His Big Bad Stick

A goal and a fight…

The refs don’t like it.

Whistles are blowing but it’s too late now.

I get my hands on Peter’s jersey and pull him toward me.

He throws a quick left and hits my cheek.

Damn does that hurt.

But that’s okay.

I uppercut him in the jaw. Then with the same fist I get him in the nose.

Blood sprays everywhere.

The fans love blood.

The refs are pulling and screaming at us to break it up.

Normally there’s respect in a hockey fight. You know when to start. When to end.

Every now and again you get into a good one where you want to break the guy’s jaw.

Right now…

Peter picked the wrong night to fuck with me.

As the refs try to pry us apart, we keep throwing punches.

One of the refs says we’re going to get tossed from game.

As though I give a shit.

I take Peter down to the ice.

Now respectfully, that’s where the fight is supposed to end.

You hit the ice and you stop.

Maybe say a few things.

But me…

The way I feel lately…

I bring my right hand back and I hit Peter again.

It’s a dirty, cheap hit.

I go to hit him again and one of the refs grabs my arm.

“What the fuck, Caspian?” the ref screams at me. “Are you fucking insane?”

It takes two refs, Turner, and Dax to get me off Peter.

The excitement of the fans has died down quite a bit too.

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