by David Skuy
Clank!
The goalie’s best friend came to Chelsea’s rescue — the sound of it broke Charlie’s heart. The puck rang off the crossbar and ricocheted straight back to Savard, who whirled around to lead a counterattack.
Savard hadn’t had much of an opportunity to skate in open ice since the first shift of the game when he missed the breakaway, so he clearly wanted to make the most of it now. He fired a crisp pass to his left winger, who wisely passed it back once Savard had gathered up a good head of steam. The crowd was really into it now, sensing that this might be the deciding moment.
Savard bore down on Scott and Nick. They both readied themselves at the blue line, determined to stand him up. Savard veered towards Scott and faked a move outside — the steady defenceman didn’t bite. He kept his eyes directly on Savard’s chest, and waited for him to make a real move. And that he did. When he was five feet away, Savard cut into the middle of the ice and pushed the puck between them. Nick lowered his shoulder, and Scott bent down for a hip check.
They never got to deliver the hit, however. Savard jumped right over Scott’s hip, causing him to miss entirely and slam into Nick. That knocked Nick off-stride, and he was only able to get a piece of Savard, which wasn’t enough to knock him down. Savard landed on his feet and calmly collected the puck, as the two Terrence Falls defencemen crashed to the ice. Savard shifted the puck to his forehand, then to his backhand. Alexi moved out, challenging him to shoot. When he was eight feet away, Savard answered that challenge, firing the puck into the top right corner just over Alexi’s blocker.
Charlie didn’t see the goal. He had his head down the whole way back, skating as hard as he could, praying that Savard would miss. The roar of the crowd told him his prayer had not been answered. He slumped over, resting his stick on his knees and glided back to his end. If his shot had only been one inch lower, they’d be celebrating, not Chelsea.
Chelsea’s entire squad flooded onto the ice, mobbing their star and captain, pounding him on the head and high-fiving each other. The referee blew his whistle, and skated over to remind them that there was still time on the clock. That broke up the celebrations, although they carried on to the Chelsea bench, and their fans certainly kept up the cheering. Hilton waved for Charlie’s line to stay on. Charlie won the draw easily, Savard content to hang back and help protect Chelsea’s slender lead. Now it was his turn to cover Charlie. Scott gobbled up the puck, skated it to the red line, and dumped it in.
Alexi raced to the bench to allow for an extra attacker. Matt came over the boards to replace him and charged towards Chelsea’s end. He may as well have saved his energy. Burnett got to the puck first, evaded Pudge’s effort to forecheck, and skated out of his own end. When Matt bore down on him, Burnett just slid the puck softly down the side, careful not to get an icing.
Nick raced back to retrieve the puck. The clock was down to thirty seconds. His desperate pass to Zachary on the right side was intercepted and sent right back into their end. Nick gathered it up behind the net and headed up ice. Savard forechecked aggressively, which forced Nick to pass it to Charlie, who in turn spun and fired it into Chelsea’s end.
Again, Burnett was there first. He lofted a high backhand over everyone’s heads. It landed at Savard’s feet, near centre. The slick goal scorer didn’t try for an empty-netter. Instead, he danced around with the puck, running down the clock. When the buzzer sounded, he slapped the puck off the boards and threw his stick and gloves high into the air, racing back to his goalie. The rest of his teammates did the same. Chelsea had won the tournament.
Crestfallen, the Terrence Falls squad drifted to their end to console Alexi.
“We were only in the game because of you,” Charlie said, wrapping his arm around the distraught goalie.
“Couldn’t catch a break this game,” Nick added.
“Garbage goal,” Alexi declared. “I should’ve had it. Went down too soon. Next time, there’s no way I’ll let it in.”
“Let’s line up,” Charlie said. “They deserved it. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
He led the team to centre ice, removing his glove to shake hands. They had to wait for a minute, though, because the Chelsea players were still congratulating each other. Their coach finally noticed, and he instructed the players to shake hands. J.C. Savard was first in line. He’d taken his helmet off. His long, blond hair was plastered to his forehead. With a good-natured grin, he swung his hand out to meet Charlie’s.
“You gave us a serious battle. It was fun playing you.”
“You deserved to win. We just couldn’t get control of the puck.”
“How’s the arm?”
“It would feel better if we’d won.”
Savard laughed and held out his hand to Pudge. The crowd cheered for both teams loudly. It had been a great, entertaining and clean game, and they clapped to show their appreciation. Once the teams finished shaking hands, they lined up on their respective blue lines for the medal ceremony.
Like any true athlete, Charlie hated to lose. Losing in the finals was the worst feeling — to come so close and then not make it. Almost as painful was being forced to stay on the ice and watch Chelsea get their gold medals. He heard his name called out, and went to accept his silver medal.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said. “Let’s hear it for the winners of the Champions Cup, junior division — the Chelsea Spartans.” He held the trophy up over his head, and then added, “And this is the sixth year in a row that Chelsea’s junior team has won. Now that’s a dynasty!”
The crowd clapped and cheered loudly. A few of the Chelsea players banged their sticks on the ice, while others waved at the crowd. Scott leaned over to Charlie and Nick.
“If I’d known how irritating this would be, I would’ve tried harder.”
“I can’t believe I hit the crossbar,” Charlie replied. “I just can’t believe it.”
“I swear the crossbar moved,” Nick snorted. “It was going right in, and the crossbar moved.”
The announcer interrupted them.
“We have a final presentation to make — most valuable player. Let’s hear it for Chelsea’s captain, the tournament’s leading goal scorer, point getter, and now the holder of the record for most points in the junior division in one tournament — J.C. Savard.”
Another loud cheer went up. Charlie joined in, slapping his stick on the ice. Savard had played hard but fair — the way hockey should be played.
Savard held the MVP trophy over his head, skating back to his teammates. They mobbed their captain, emphatically agreeing with the MVP decision.
The Terrence Falls squad left the ice first, relieved that the presentations were over. The jubilant Chelsea team stayed on for a few more minutes, to take a team picture, and to continue to enjoy their victory.
20
FEELS LIKE HOME
The mood became surprisingly upbeat once Charlie’s teammates got into their dressing room. They’d lost, and in heartbreaking fashion, but they’d also given the mighty Chelsea a good run for its money, with three key players gone, not to mention Pudge’s ankle and Charlie’s arm. Most of the guys started joking around, throwing tape balls at each other, and rehashing the game. Charlie took no part in the horseplay. The loss was still too fresh in his mind. To win the Champions Cup, after Jake, Liam and Thomas quitting, would have been so sweet.
The two coaches had been shaking hands with all their players, offering praise and words of encouragement. They stopped in front of Charlie.
“Cheer up, son,” Tremblay said. “That was one of the gutsiest efforts I’ve seen, and after forty years of coaching I’ve seen my share.”
Charlie forced a smile. “The team played great,” he said.
“Losing always hurts more than winning feels good,” Hilton said. “If that ever changes, it’s time to stop playing. And you can take pride in the fact that you did what no one else has done — stop Savard.”
“I don’t know about that. He score
d the winning goal.”
The coaches laughed. “We’ll chalk that up to bad luck,” Hilton said. “What a bizarre goal, the way the puck bounced straight back. What can you do? I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
He offered his hand. “Put ’er there, captain.”
He and Charlie shook hands.
“You’re a tremendous player, Charlie,” Tremblay said, shaking hands with him next. “I’ve enjoyed working with you.”
“Thanks,” Charlie said, feeling slightly overwhelmed.
Hilton moved to the middle of the room. “Can I interrupt everyone for a second. I just wanted to say a few words before you all go.
“I’m not going to give you the old ‘We tried hard and I’m proud of you’ speech, even though you did and I am. This game showed two things. First, what you can accomplish with an honest effort and discipline. We played with heart, and we played with our heads. No dumb penalties — no dumb mistakes.”
“Except for hitting the crossbar,” Scott wisecracked, tossing a tape ball at Charlie.
“You might have a point there,” Hilton said. “You all played as well as you could. Each one of you can take pride in that. The second thing this game showed is that you can improve. There are no more school games until next year, but I trust you are all going to play for a club team this winter. We were a bit outmatched today in the skills department. I hope you use this as motivation to get better.”
He took a sip of water from a bottle he was holding. “Silver is still a precious metal,” he said, “and a bunch of other teams would gladly change places with you.”
He glanced at his watch. “The senior team is playing in their final right now. I’m sorry to report that the junior girls also lost in the final. The senior girls team lost in the semis. I’m hoping we can get at least one gold. Once you get dressed, maybe some of you will want to stay and watch with Coach Tremblay and me. We’ll be in the stands.”
Coach Tremblay clapped his hands, as if to applaud the team’s efforts. “Thanks for letting me coach you guys. I had a lot of fun, and I think you did too. Tough loss. Hate to lose in the finals, but remember one thing: it’s better to lose the big one than to watch it.”
He gave them a wave and left with Hilton. The players finished dressing quickly, eager to get out to see their senior team, led by Karl Schneider, do what they could not — beat Chelsea. The two teams were evenly matched and both had sailed into the finals undefeated.
“No way they can shut down Schneider. He’s been a scoring machine — twelve goals in four games, and no one has even come close to stopping him,” Pudge said to Charlie.
“One guy can’t win a game,” Charlie said.
“We’ll just have to see about that.”
“Hey, Charlie, you ready?” Scott asked.
“Yeah. Hold on. You comin’, Pudge?”
“Go ahead. I’ll be out in a sec.”
Charlie left with Scott and Nick. He spotted his family waiting for him by the snack bar. Danielle was munching on some popcorn, while his grandparents were sipping on coffees. He told his friends to go on ahead, and went over to them. Danielle saw him first and waved excitedly. He was carrying his bag and stick with his right arm, so he waved back with his left hand without thinking. A sharp stab of pain reminded him of his injury. He’d been icing his arm on the bench. Now that he wasn’t doing that, it was beginning to throb. His mother saw him grimace when he waved, and immediately rushed over, deep concern etched in her face. She touched his arm gently and asked how it felt.
“It hurts a bit,” he admitted. Charlie didn’t want to worry his mother. And he really wanted to watch the game. “I can move my fingers, so it’s probably fine.”
“Thanks, Doctor Charlie,” his mother said, taking hold of his arm. “How about I take a quick look anyway?”
She rolled up his sleeve and began to probe his arm gently with her fingertips. A very large bruise had already formed midway up his forearm. She shook her head and sighed. “You probably didn’t break it, or you couldn’t have held your stick. It’s hard to tell, though. You’ve got a lot of swelling. If you’re lucky you’ll only have a deep bruise. You could have chipped a bone, though. Either way, we’d better get you to Emergency for an x-ray and have it checked out.”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped. He really wanted to see that game. “Can’t I just stay for a little while? It really doesn’t hurt that much. I was able to play with it. And a lot of the guys are staying to watch the senior finals between Terrence Falls and Chelsea.” His voice trailed off and he cast a pleading look at his mother.
“You could have a broken arm,” she said firmly. “What if you need a cast? It’s important to get it looked at right away. I should add that I’ve been hanging out in an arena the entire weekend, and I really don’t feel like watching another game. So let’s go, please.”
“It’s just for an hour,” he tried.
“Charlie, I realize you want to watch, but I’m sorry. We have to go to the hospital.”
Just then, Pudge limped over.
“Hey, Charlie. You’re gonna miss the whole game. Schneider’s totally out of control. He almost scored in the first minute. Went through the whole Chelsea team and rang one off the post. It’s going to be an awesome game. Your family can tell you how great you played later.”
Charlie introduced Pudge.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Charlie’s mother said.
“Nice to meet you too,” Pudge said.
“I wouldn’t mind watching the game,” Danielle said. “I’ve still got some popcorn and a slushie to finish.”
“Aren’t you going to watch?” Pudge asked
“My mom wants me to go to the hospital.”
“My dad’s taking me after the game for my foot,” Pudge said. “It’s swollen up again, so he thinks I might have done some real damage. I’m sure it’s fine — just needs some ice. We could take you.”
“How about it, Mom? It can’t get any worse — and I promise not to clap too hard.”
Charlie’s mother smiled, and she patted his arm softly. “Oh, all right. But I may as well stay and watch too. One more game won’t kill me.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he said.
Some of the guys saw Pudge and Charlie and they waved at them to come over. Scott was on his feet, trading friendly insults with the Chelsea fans. His natural good humour couldn’t be dampened by the loss of a hockey game. His friends were laughing at his jokes, egging him on. It suddenly occurred to Charlie that while he’d only known Scott for a short time, it felt as if they’d been friends forever. After Pudge, Scott had been the first guy to make him feel welcome in Terrence Falls, starting with asking him to join his group for that skating drill at the first tryout. He’d proven to be a loyal friend. Charlie vowed to himself he’d never forget that.
Nick sat next to Scott. His jacket was completely open, despite it being quite cold in the stands. The cold didn’t seem to bother him. It took a lot to bother Nick, Charlie mused. He was that kind of guy. If something went wrong on the ice, he just put it behind him and kept on going. He may not be the easiest guy to get to know. He rarely talked about himself — the opposite of Scott. But you always knew where you stood with Nick. That’s what he liked best about him. Charlie was proud to count him as a friend.
Charlie and Pudge squeezed in beside Zachary. Charlie reflected on how much things had changed for Pudge in only a few weeks. He’d stood up to Jake, Liam and Thomas. That took true courage. Pudge had also proven his courage on the ice, thriving in his new position, always willing to dig hard in the corner, always ready to sacrifice the body — and he’d just played an entire game on a badly injured foot. And Charlie would always remember that moment when Pudge nominated him for captain. At the time he’d thought it was the worst possible thing that could have happened. Now he knew that it was the best. He had a feeling that Pudge and he would be friends for a long time to come.
Zachary was treating the stands like a loun
ge chair — his legs were draped over the seat in front and his hands were folded behind his head. That was Zachary — laid back, without a worry in the world. Some people thought he didn’t care about things. Charlie knew that wasn’t true. He was a fierce competitor — he put more into the game today than most. He just didn’t let things get to him. Charlie envied his ability to do that. He was also a very talented player, covering huge tracks of ice with his long, rangy stride, always seeming to be in the right place at the right time. He complemented Charlie’s style perfectly. Charlie hoped he’d have the chance to play with him again.
And there was Matt, sitting in a row behind Scott and Nick. He was watching the game, listening to Scott rant, laughing with the others, but it looked to Charlie like he wasn’t really comfortable hanging out with these guys. That was understandable. Jake, Liam and Thomas had been his buddies for years. They’d gone to the same schools, been in the same classes, and played on the same hockey teams. Now he’d very definitely turned his back on all that. It was incredible to think how much things had changed since that fateful day when he’d bodychecked Matt in practice during the one-on-one drill. Charlie had grown to respect Matt tremendously. He was obviously someone who thought for himself. He’d also had a great game playing in a different position, often double-shifting so Charlie could match up with Savard. He never complained once. He just dug deep and kept working.
The score was tied at 1–1, with the action swinging from end to end, neither team much interested in playing defensively. The pain in his arm was soon forgotten in all the excitement. Charlie cheered wildly with all the Terrence Falls supporters when a minute before the end of the first period, Karl Schneider scored the go-ahead goal on a beautiful wraparound from behind Chelsea’s net.
