TYLER
Six days later.
"Fuck!" I yell, pulling off my helmet and throwing it to the ground in the bad box, where I will sit for the next two minutes, watching Portland probably take advantage of the power play. We're down one-two with seven minutes left to make up the two goals we need to win. It's not impossible, but our play hasn't been great tonight. It's not just me, the whole team is flat for some reason. Kolochev seems distracted. Not really surprised there. Bastard. Kazmeirowicz is just not hitting the mark, despite tons of shots on goal. It's a cluster, for sure, and my penalty box hat trick isn't helping.