Off the Crossbar (12 page)

“Has Terrence Falls ever won anything?” one Chelsea player hooted.

“I don’t see you even getting to the finals,” said another.

“We’ll try to keep the score under 10–0 for ya.”

That was too much for an avid trash-talker like Scott. “You’re living in the past, dudes. You’d better hope we go easy on you.”

“Come and see my trophy case, big man,” a Chelsea player responded.

“You really know how to party,” Scott mocked.

His teammates joined in, and soon both teams were trading insults back and forth. The Chelsea coach eventually hustled his team into their dressing room, and the hallway was quiet. Not the Terrence Falls dressing room, though — all the players were on their feet, fired up for the game.

Zachary jumped up on the bench. “Play with reckless abandon, boys,” the normally laid-back winger said. “If you don’t break a bone, you’re not trying!”

“Safe with the puck,” Craig chimed.

“Leave it all on the ice today,” Ethan said.

“And play smart. No stupid penalties.”

“Let’s go out and hammer these guys.”

“They can’t keep up if we play our game.”

“Sudden death, guys. No sense worrying about tomorrow.”

Charlie held up his hand and the room quieted. “I don’t think anyone gives us a chance without Jake, Liam and Thomas. But, to tell you the truth, I didn’t think we had a chance of winning with them. I think we just got a whole lot better. We go hard right from the start. We win this game one shift at a time. And it starts with the drop of the puck.”

He looked at Alexi. “How about you lead us onto the ice, so we can win this thing already.”

The goaltender flipped his mask down and marched down the hall. Charlie held the door open and hit each player’s shoulder pads as they passed.

“Let’s go, Scott. Your game, Ethan. Come on, Nick. Take it to them, Pudge. Work hard, Dylan …”

Charlie was last to leave. He cast a glance at the empty dressing room. Could they really win without three of their best players? Frankly, he wasn’t sure.

Terrence Falls came out strong, and dominated most of the game, firing shot after shot at the Flemington goalie. He’d played an outstanding game, however, and the score remained tied at 0–0 deep in the third period — but he’d also been lucky. Nick had banged one off the post early in the first period, and Zachary had missed on an open net to start the third.

With less than three minutes to play, a Flemington defenceman had the puck at his blue line. His left winger cut across the neutral zone.

“Simon, quick pass,” he said.

The winger took the pass, but Charlie was right on him, and he was forced to circle to his end, where he dropped the puck back to his defenceman. He decided to try it himself this time, and headed down the left side. Pudge saw that and cut him off, which left him with little choice but to fire it in.

Charlie took advantage to call for a change, which is why he didn’t see the puck careen off Pudge’s skate. Pudge
dropped to the ice, clutching his foot, and the whistle blew.

Charlie assumed the puck had gone out of play and didn’t turn around.

“Pudge got hurt,” Matt said, pointing to the ice.

Charlie’s heart sank. Pudge had played such a solid game to that point. He followed the trainer over to his friend.

“You gonna make it?” Charlie asked.

“Zachary said if you don’t break a bone, you’re not trying.”

“Please don’t tell me your foot’s broken.”

“Let’s find out.”

“Wait a minute,” the trainer said. He probed gently. “Okay, try putting some weight on it.”

Charlie helped him up. Pudge slowly lowered his skate to the ice. He winced, leaning on Charlie for support. “Not too bad,” he said. “I’ve had worse.”

Pudge glided to the bench, with the trainer’s help, but he kept most of his weight on his other foot. Charlie started slapping the ice with his stick and was soon joined by the other players. Matt hopped the boards and skated to Charlie.

“We didn’t need that,” Matt said.

“Tell me about it,” Charlie replied.

“Not much time left. We need to take it up a notch and put this game away.”

“It’s time for you to be the hero.”

Matt grinned. “Now that you mention it, I do feel heroic all of a sudden.”

Charlie rapped his shin pads and joined Pudge on the bench.

“Do you think you can play?” Charlie asked.

He looked uncertain. “The pain’s gone away a bit. I think I’ll give it a try and see what happens.”

Charlie looked up. A Flemington defenceman had the puck at centre, and he fired it down the ice to get a change. He turned back to Pudge. “We need you out there. It would be huge if you could tough it out.”

A roar from the crowd interrupted, and he heard the whistle blow.

“What happened?” he asked Zachary.

“I think this team’s cursed. Alexi caught the puck, and went to sweep it behind the net to Scott. The problem is, he swept it right into our net,” Zachary said.

“They scored?”

“It appears so.”

The Flemington players had their sticks over their heads, most of them laughing, pounding the scorer’s back.

Hilton pulled lightly on Charlie’s shoulder pads.

“How about you go out there and tie this game up?” he said.

Charlie jumped over the boards and headed straight to Alexi. He had dropped to his knees, head down. He looked up at Charlie, unable to say a word.

“We wouldn’t be here without you,” Charlie said, giving his pads a whack. “And what’s done is done. Let’s make a deal, you and me. I’ll get that one back, if you promise not to let another goal in for the rest of the game.”

Charlie knew Alexi was ultra-competitive. He even hated giving up a goal in practice, so that challenge was music to his ears. He loved to be counted on, to come through in the clutch. Some players shrink from that responsibility. Not Alexi, and Charlie was counting on it.

Alexi hit his own pads with his stick, and jumped to his feet. He crouched down to show he was ready, “You get that goal,” he said. “Scoring is over for them.”

The next two minutes were complete and utter mayhem. The puck barely left Flemington’s end. The Terrence Falls players played like madmen, desperately trying to set up a good scoring chance. Flemington held on bravely, launching their bodies in front of shots and diving after every loose puck. With thirty seconds left, Terrence Falls was still behind by one, and the faceoff was deep in Flemington’s end to the goalie’s left. Hilton pulled Alexi, allowing Matt to join the attack.

Charlie circled around to stall for time, struggling to catch his breath. His spirits got a big boost when Pudge came out to take over left wing. Scott and Nick were on the point, with Zachary on the wing against the boards. He felt good about the six guys out there — each had proved himself to be a hockey warrior in this game. It occurred to him that they were all grade nines. He looked over at the bench. His older teammates were on their feet banging the boards and calling out encouragement. They were counting on them to tie it up, and proving to be unselfish by not complaining about ice time. Regardless of whether they scored, Charlie felt that for the first time they were a real team — all pulling together to try to win.

The referee blew his whistle and held the puck aloft. Charlie drifted to the faceoff and choked up on the stick to make it look as if he wanted to draw the puck back to the point. Before the puck was dropped, though, he glanced sharply at Zachary and hit the ice twice with his stick.

That signal meant Charlie would tie the centre up, rather than try to win the draw. Zachary would come over and dig the puck out for a quick shot on goal. Zachary anticipated the drop of the puck, swept across, and in one motion fired a bullet to the short side. The goalie got a piece of it with his left pad, deflecting it to the corner.

The Flemington defenceman got to the puck first, but Charlie, who had spun loose from the centre, was right on him. The defenceman panicked and shot the puck up the boards before his winger was ready, and the puck continued on to Nick, who trapped it inside the line. Nick blasted it back down along the boards, all the way around the net to the far corner, where Pudge was waiting.

Pudge got control of the puck, but he didn’t have a chance to pass it before Flemington’s right defenceman was on him. The two players battled for possession, but neither was able to knock the puck free. Matt joined them, along with Flemington’s right winger. Charlie looked up at the clock in frustration. Only twenty seconds remained. He skated behind the net to see if he could help. Pudge saw him, and, with a Herculean effort, bulled his way forward, dislodging the puck momentarily, which let Matt kick it free to Charlie.

Charlie snatched the puck and skated backwards with
it behind the net, looking around to assess the situation. Zachary was banging with the left defenceman in front trying to establish position. The defenceman was a big, strong kid and gave no quarter. Charlie doubted Zachary would ever get his stick down for a pass. He would have to come up with something else, and fast.

Nick waved his stick in the air at the point, and Charlie was on the verge of passing it to him, when the Flemington centre moved over to block the passing lane. Scott drifted into the slot area, but he was quickly covered by the left winger. With ten seconds left, the crowd began to count down. When they reached seven, Charlie decided his only option was the wraparound. Unfortunately, Flemington’s solid positional play made that impossible. The right defenceman had raced over to cover the left post, and the right winger was covering the right post.

He heard the count reach five, and then decided to try something he’d seen an NHL player do once. Charlie came out the left side, as if he was going to go for the wraparound. The defenceman flopped to the ice to block his path, and then extended his arms and legs so Charlie couldn’t pass it in front anywhere. Charlie had no intention of passing, however. He flicked the puck high in the air, over the prone defenceman, to the very spot where he’d been covering, three feet from the top of the crease. He then jumped over the defenceman and twisted around in the air, so that he was facing the net. Charlie and the puck landed at the same time. The goalie had dropped to his knees to prevent Charlie from stuffing it in on the short side. That left the top of the net open. He swung
his stick, and the puck sailed over the goalie’s shoulder, into the top corner. Charlie had passed the puck to himself and, as if by miracle, had tied the game with two seconds left.

The entire team poured off the bench and piled onto him. Everyone was banging on each other’s helmets and exchanging high-fives. Charlie was just trying to breathe, crushed under a pile of players. But he loved it all the same, and, like his delirious teammates, could hardly believe he had scored.

The referees broke up their celebrations to remind them that the game was tied. There were still two seconds on the clock, and then a five-minute overtime. If that didn’t settle it, there would be a shootout.

The late goal deflated the Flemington squad. For most of the overtime it looked like they were just trying to get it over with. They dumped the puck into Terrence Falls’ end almost as soon as they crossed centre, dropping back to play defence. That made it difficult for Terrence Falls to get anything going. The play was choppy as a result, with lots of turnovers and constant whistles. The buzzer sounded, ending the overtime, without either team coming close to scoring.

A referee came over to Hilton to explain the rules. “You need to pick three shooters. Have them wait behind the red line on the ice. Non-shooters stay on the bench. The shooters will go in on a breakaway from centre, alternating between each team. Whichever team gets the most goals wins. If it’s still tied after three shooters, then we keep going until one team scores and the other
doesn’t. Understood?”

Hilton nodded and the referee skated away. He leaned over and said something to Tremblay, who whispered something back. After that brief exchange, Hilton announced who the shooters would be.

“Okay, fellas. This is the first group of shooters, and I want you to go in this order: Charlie, Zachary, Matt.”

Those three players stayed on the ice while everyone else filed onto the bench.

“Don’t try to make the perfect move,” Hilton told the shooters. “Just don’t get cheated. That’s the important thing. Watch the goalie and, by the top of the circle, you should know if you’re going to shoot or deke. If you shoot, shoot hard. If you deke, make it a strong move. Now let’s get this thing over with.”

They nodded in unison and shuffled to their spot behind the red line.

The referee came over to them. “You guys are the visitors for this game, so you go first.”

Charlie skated slowly to centre. He took a deep breath. He had decided what to do the second the coach called his name. His father had taught him long ago that one of the hardest shots for a goalie to stop on a breakaway is along the ice on the stick side. It’s also difficult for the shooter, because if the puck lifts even an inch or two the goalie can make an easy pad save. Done right, however, it’s nearly impossible to stop.

Flemington’s goalie was more aggressive than he’d been all game, and he came out to challenge Charlie. Charlie considered changing his mind, but his coach’s
advice came back to him. Don’t get cheated. At the hash marks, Charlie drew his stick back and snapped a hard shot along the ice to the stick side. The goalie didn’t even move, as the puck streaked into the corner.

Charlie pumped his arm in the air. The other shooters skated over, rewarding him with several slaps to the helmet. Now it was Flemington’s turn. Their first shooter wasted no time. He carried the puck in at top speed, faked to his forehand, and lofted a backhand towards the top corner. Alexi was not fooled. He had come out to cut down the angle, and slid across in a butterfly to stop the puck with his right shoulder.

The Terrence Falls fans roared their approval, while the Flemington side groaned. Zachary was up next. He moved in, deked to his right, and slid the puck between the goalie’s legs to pot the second goal. Flemington’s second shooter slapped the ice with his stick to fire himself up. He slowed as he crossed the blue line, drifting in and firing a hard shot at the five-hole between Alexi’s legs. Alexi flopped to the ice, and the puck hit him in the stomach.

He’d been as good as his word. Flemington hadn’t scored again.

Charlie was too stoked to react. Not so his teammates who pounded him on the helmet and chanted, “Ter-rence Falls! Ter-rence Falls! Ter-rence Falls!” Despite everything that had happened, they had earned the right to face Chelsea in the finals.