Sasquatch to the Moon

28: Holt

ROCKET

I'm on the bench again, you know, because Edmonton is an actual challenge and we need Paxton for that.

Holt is on Yeti's ass. That's what I've been watching this whole game. Fuck the score and the rest of my guys, I just need to see this man live to tomorrow. I've seen Yeti get pissed off before, but he's not quite there with Holt. I mean, I'd be pissy if I was the one getting repeatedly cross checked by him. He hasn't gotten called yet, and I know that's annoying Håkon, but he hasn't done anything back, which is good.

Cross checking is just right-out rude. I mean, I've been cross checked before, but not this frequently. I'm a goalie, most of the time I'm safe except for the puck flying at me. Håkon, my dear boy, not so much. He's playing fair as far as I can see, okay he's not but I like to keep him golden in my eyes. He's definitely not, he's jabbing at Holt's skates and he's probably chirping him but that's fine I think. Holt's the one that's throwing his stick into Yeti's back at every chance he can get. 

"How you feeling?" He flops onto the bench and I lean over to talk to him.

"Angry, but that's his fucking fault," Håkon grumbles. "I just need to get him to fuck off."

"Alright, uh, don't get bloody on me." I pat his helmet awkwardly with my glove, the basket of the glove covering the majority of the top of his head. 

"Sure, sure."

"Håkon-"

He gives me a little smile and then slides down the bench to let the next line in.

In a minute, he's back out on the ice, marking Holt the second they're out together. Holt is now back on Paxton, shoving him around. Paxy's mad now.

The second Holt is away from Paxton with the puck, Håkon throws a check I can feel from here. It's a gross one, too far away from the boards to be a board check but too close to them for Holt not to hit the boards on the rebound. He gets tossed and kinda stumbles, falling over. Then he's scrambling to get up. Håkon passes the puck to Steph who takes it down the ice.

Holt has his helmet off when I look back over, grabbing the front of Håkon's jersey. I'm watching, a little stunned.

Yeti grabs both of Holt's hands to keep him from taking a cheap shot, his dinner plate palm wrapping both Holt's wrists to keep them still, and pulls his helmet off with the other hand. Two buttons and the chin strap. The moment Håkon's hands wrap around his wrists and his helmet hits the ice, skittering off to the side, Holt knows he's fucked. You can see it in his poor terrified eyes. Even I feel slightly bad. Not actually, though, this is what you get for cross checking my baby. 

He lets go and Holt throws a punch. Håkon repositions his legs and is just holding the front of Holt's jersey, getting position. Holt gets in another punch before Håkon throws one at him. 

All it takes is one, the lock of his extended elbow to hold Holt out far enough that his reach is just short of Yeti's face, and then the full body twist and smack. Holt's head snaps back and Håkon gives him a nasty little shove, tossing him to the ice.  

"Holy shit, again?" Nico is on the bench next to me. "Sometimes he's scary."

Holt is face down on the ice, hands over his head. Håkon took one shot at his jaw and it knocked him over.

Håkon's shoulders are grabbed by two refs and he's led away from Holt, which, by his expression, I can tell that Håkon isn't going to to back and try that mess again, he's done. He grabs the lip of his jersey in one hand and brings it up to wipe off the blood that's dripping down his neck from his cut, getting red on the white trim. I can practically feel the equipment manager bristle from behind me, knowing he's going to have to get that blood out. I can see the red across his knuckles from here when he lifts his hand to brush his hair back. The greater powers are testing me today.