BRAYDON'S POV
Three minutes into the game, the Ridgeway Hawks’ goalie let Mason’s slapshot slip clean through the five-hole like he’d fallen asleep at the stick or something. After that, it all went downhill for them.
By the end of the first period, they’d stacked up a pile of weak penalties because of tripping, slashing, spearing, and even one for too many men on the ice. I guess counting wasn’t part of their warm-up routine.
When the second period kicked off, our bench was buzzing. The Hawks, though, looked like they were skating through quicksand.
Luke ripped a backhand that clanged off the boards and ricocheted into the corner. One of their defensemen, Evan, got to it first, but froze up and I drifted back toward the net, waiting. Our other winger came charging, and Evan panicked a
