KNOX
The penalty is announced over the PA as I plop down on the bench, still seeing red.
"Number eight, Mohrelian five-minute major, fighting. Number eleven, Mercer—five minute major, fighting, two minute minor, instigating."
Fuck.
I feel like I can't breathe in this small little box covered in plexiglass. The attendant gives me a bored look then turns his attention back on the ice where the game is continuing without me for the first time since I started playing.
This has never happened to me before. I don't get penalties. I sure as hell don't break the rules.
Dammit, five minutes feels like a lifetime in here.
The problem is that I've been riled up before the game even started. It didn't help that, when I looked over at the crowd behind the glass, I saw some guy seated next t
