Before it was an Enforcer, it was the stick of Evan “Shadows” Halpern, a winger who skated like a rumor — you never saw him coming, but you definitely felt it when he arrived.

Shadows played in a rink where half the lights were always burnt out and the scoreboard buzzed like it had a grudge. Perfect environment for a guy who treated low visibility like a competitive advantage. He’d appear out of the dark corners, poke-check you, steal the puck, steal your dignity, and vanish again like someone unplugged him.

His teammates swear he never actually opened the bench door to get on the ice. One shift he was gone. Next shift he was suddenly on the forecheck, breathing down your neck like a cold draft from the Zamboni tunnel.

The night the Shadow Hammer was born, Evan threw a hit so clean and so quiet that the only sound was the snap of his stick exploding at the shaft. Most guys break a stick. Shadows made it look like his stick accepted its fate.

After the game, the lights in the rink cut out completely — coincidence, they said. Except Evan walked to the parking lot without a flashlight like he had night-vision built in.

We grabbed the busted piece of that pitch-black stick, reforged it with a chrome top, and sealed the weird energy inside.

That’s the Shadow Hammer.

It doesn’t open beers.
It materializes a cold one when you need it, usually right when someone says “we’re out."