Page 25 of Power Play

“We’re going liveto Piper in two,” the voice in my earpiece says, and I wrap my fingers around my microphone. “First period interview with Hayes on deck.”

“You good?” Bernie, my cameraman, asks.

“Yeah.” I nod and turn my attention to the ice, watching Liam stop a goal with an outstretched arm. The clock on the big screen ticks down from fifteen seconds to ten, and the save solidifiesa tied game at zero as we head into the first intermission. “I’m good.”

The buzzer sounds and I get in position, waiting for the guys to finish their huddle before moving to the locker room for their eighteen-minute break. Bernie holds up his finger in warning and I nod.

“Hudson,” I call out. “Can I snag you for a second?”

“Shucks, Piper.” He grins, skating up and stopping sharply enough to send little ice shards flying at my feet. “I get to be your first interview? I’m flattered.”

“You’re the only person I trust to not get me in trouble eight seconds into this gig.”

“You’re right about that one.” Hudson leans against his stick lazily. “You’re going to do great, by the way.”

“Elbow me if I forget what I’m supposed to say.” I nod as my countdown cue goes from five to one, and I smile big and wide. “Thanks, Bradley. I’m here with Hudson Hayes, who had a solid first period on defense. Hudson, this time four years ago, the Stars boasted the worst record in the league and you were in the middle of an eleven-game losing streak. Tonight, you’re keeping the defending Stanley Cup champions scoreless through the first twenty minutes. As the second most tenured player on the team, what growth have you seen in the four years that have passed?”

“We’re all older than we were back then. Having experience—including losing—and leaders who went through those losses goes a long way. We’ve already been down in the dumps once and clawed our way out of it. We know we can do it again if we have to.”

“Let’s talk about the shot you had with three minutes to go in the first. It was a good look while on a power play, but you came up short. You typically like to assist, not score. When you have an opportunity like that, what goes through your mind when deciding if you’re going to pass or attack?”

“That was honestly supposed to be a pass.” Hudson raises his voice over the announcement of a winning raffle ticket number, and I stand on my toes so I can hear him. “I thought Richardson had a better look than me, but the puck wanted to go to the goalkeeper instead. Almost lined up nicely. At the end of the day, I don’t care who takes the shot, just that it goes in and we win.”

“Last thing before I let you head to the locker room. This is the same match up we saw last season in the Stanley Cup Finals. It feels like there’s some lingering tension between these two teams. I know we’re nowhere near June yet, but what’s it like playing against the opponent you hope to see later down the road?”

He rests his chin on his stick and looks down at me. “We know the regular season doesn’t mean anything as far as bragging rights go. You could play well all year then falter in the playoffs when it matters most. It is good to get a feel of the kind of gameplay we’ll be hopefully experience come playoff time, though. The Bulls are a good team. They play hard, and this kind of matchup is exactly what we need to gauge how things are working for us.”

“Thanks so much, Hudson. We’re going to send it back to Bradley who’s going to break down the stats from the first period.”

Bernie gives me the all clear and my shoulders sag with relief. My grip on the microphone eases and I take a deep breath, my lungs filling with air for the first time in hours.

“I don’t know why you were nervous. You knocked that out of the park, Piper,” Hudson tells me. “You’re a natural.”

“It helps you’re a good conversationalist. Far easier to talk to than someone like Liam.”

“A wall would be better, I think. Would give you less attitude too.”

I laugh. The nerves in the pit of my stomach dissipate, and there’s a small part of me that thinks I can actually do this.

For real.

Every single day.

And begoodat it.

“Thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I appreciate you being patient.”

“You’re going to go a long way.” He knocks his knuckles against mine again and heads for the locker room. “And, hey. If Sullivan ever gives you a hard time about refusing to do an interview, send him my way. I’ll put him in his place.”

EIGHT

LIAM

“Where’s your head, GK?”Maverick clasps my shoulder in the locker room during intermission. “You’re staring at the wall.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.”

“You had a hell of a second period. Fifteen saves and not a single goal? Fucking impressive. We only have twenty minutes until we can get the fuck out of here and celebrate our hopeful victory against the reigning Stanley Cup champs somewhere fun. Can youpleasepull yourself together?”

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