Rory
I'd been hit hard before. I hadn't been hit like this.
The rivalry game against Thornebridge's biggest conference opponent had been ugly from the opening faceoff, the kind of game where every whistle felt personal and every hit carried extra weight, both benches chirping loud enough that Coach Reyes spent most of the first period looking like he was one bad call away from an aneurysm. My qualifier performance had apparently made the rounds — write-ups, a clip that got passed around some regional highlight account — and their bench had clearly decided, sometime between warmups and puck drop, that I was the player worth making an example of.
I saw the hit coming and still couldn't get out of the way fast enough.
Their biggest defenseman caught me at full speed along the boards, shou
