You're the Dagger in My Heart

Brad Marchand hopped over the bench, onto the ice. He skated hard after an opposing Dallas player. He spotted his ex-teammate across the ice. The sight only made him angrier and more emotional. He was furious at the kid, but mostly at himself. He knew that he had not been playing at his best, heck he knew he was playing horribly. And that had to change!

But as his eyes locked on his ex-buddy, something inside him snapped. He howled and rammed his entire body into one of the opposing Star forwards, who passed the puck across the ice. The Dallas Star, Jamie Benn, fell to the ice. Brad grunted in irritation and skated off, keeping an eye on the man.

In the background, the crowd began to boo several times, when Tyler Seguin touched the puck and taunted with the chant, "Say-gin, Say-gin."

Brad made his way across the ice, toward Tyler, who appeared unfazed at the taunts, cat-calls and jeers from the TD Garden crowd surrounding him.

“You bastard!” Brad snarled, as he raced at Tyler, full of fury.

Tyler finally looked straight at his ex-friend and locked eyes with him. Before Tyler could react, Brad slammed into the kid, sending him to the ice.

“Get off of me, Bruin!” Tyler growled, getting to his feet.

Time seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace, as Brad and Tyler stared at each other. Tyler had called him a “Bruin”, not “Marchy” and Brad felt his heart tear with agony. That had stung the pesky forward a lot.

Tyler and Brad both scrambled to their skates and stared at one another. Hostility surged around them and punctured the air.

It seemed like time had slowed and the atmosphere had grown chill and distant. The taunting from the crowd faded away and fell deathly silent. The world seemed to stop and everyone and everything in the Garden held its collective breath waiting to see what would happen next with the two ex-teammates, roommates and best friends.

“Marchy, going after me is not going to help your game any. I know you are better than this. You’ve played against other ex-teammates before me. How am I any different?” Tyler finally spat.

Brad didn’t respond. He maintained his glare. He was frozen in place. Tyler took a step toward him.

“Instead of going after me, go after the net!” Tyler snarled. “After all, you’ve only had one goal this season so far, and I’ve had seven!”

Brad could feel his heart racing, but each beat throbbed with terrible torment, as Tyler snapped at him with unusual wrath. Tyler finally skated off, going after the puck to help his teammates out. Brad stood, awkwardly still. He forced himself to watch Tyler get the puck and shoot at Tuukka.

It hurt him. It truly hurt him to see this very sight. But there was nothing he could do. He had to help his team out. He had to stop Tyler Seguin (and the Dallas Stars) and that meant focusing on taking shots at the goal and playing his game.

Brad gradually smirked, took a deep breath, and bolted forward, stealing a puck from a Dallas Star. He worked hard to keep the puck, surging down the ice and took a shot on the goal. All of his emotions and what he felt, he mustered into that single shot. The goalie grabbed it and Brad came to a halt. Patrice Bergeron nodded at him. Brad had to smile a little bit. He glanced around and his eyes glazed off of Tyler, who stared at him, speechlessly.

“Two can play at this game Segs,” Marchy murmured to himself, as he went back to the bench for a line change.