Chapter 128: Cheli III—Stirring the Pot
Patrick seemed to be getting in a groove; Chelios thought, as the second period was wearing on and the team still hadn’t scored. That was a thought he never wanted to entertain especially as a game was going long. The more saves that arrogant basterd made the more likely it was he was going to hold his team in. There was a flurry at the net and still the goalie positioned nicely for a string of saves.
"Dammit!" Chelios yelled as Patrick caught a puck and held it up for the crowd’s delight and praise.
He thought about finding something to slam his stick on but then decided against it. The game was still scoreless after all, he couldn’t forget that Cujo seemed to be doing a nice job. He shook his head, trying to calm down and that’s when he glanced up at the glass and saw her. Dammit couldn’t that woman ever leave him alone? What the hell was she sitting by the glass for? Didn’t wives sit up in the luxury boxes so they wouldn’t have to deal with the common crowds and noise? And what the fuck was written on that little boy’s forehead? DAMMIT he didn’t want to know... and on that little blond daughter of theirs with the creepy blue eyes...
"Hey Cheli," he heard Patrick say brightly later on.
Annoyed beyond all belief he glared at Patrick. "What?"
"What happened to your face?" Patrick asked. "And Maltby too, no means no my friend."
Chelios rolled his eyes, skated quickly around the net, and barked at Patrick. "Why don’t you ask your wife, and that doesn’t mean she was saying "no" asshole."
"What did you just say?" Patrick snapped, standing up straight.
"I see she hasn’t changed," Chris snapped as he skated into the faceoff.
"Chris what the hell are you doing?" Maltby snapped as the puck was being dropped.
"Just stirring the pot," Chelios gasped as they began to scramble for the puck. "You’ll thank me later!"
Chris could see Patrick talking to Adam Foote later in the period and he saw Foote’s glare on him. No goals had been scored yet, Chelios reminded himself. Whatever Patrick had told Foote to do, he would have to play it safe...
He saw Adam Foote with his head down near the end of the second period and Chelios couldn’t resist it. He put on the jets and slammed him down that would teach him for touching Hull! He could hear the crowds howl and boo for a penalty but Chelios knew one hadn’t been called and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat smug about it. And then there was the round, stout little body of Chris Drury as the kid had the puck behind the net at the boards. Chelios thought about slamming him into the glass but pulled back at the last instant, knowing that the refs probably wouldn’t let him go on two in one shift.
He grunted as he pressed his body against Chris and he could hear Hull behind him barking for the puck. Chelios glanced up quickly and he couldn’t help but see Michele. But she wasn’t watching at all, she was tickling the little boy in her lap, distracting him from the action. Chelios sighed and squeezed Drury harder to the boards, remembering how much he had wanted to press the last breath out of her...
"Gah!" Drury gasped and Chelios freed the puck, sending it to Brett.
"Asshole!" Drury snapped at him and very discreetly, Chelios replied by snipping the kid on the calves with his stick.
Brett was flying and Chelios held his arms up in victory when he saw Brett tee up the shot and blast it past Patrick’s catching glove into the net. Instead of skating into the celebration circle he swirled around the net and gave Michele a long look. Briefly her eyes met his, and he felt a sort of power, her husband at his team’s mercy. She turned her attention away from him and began to coo to the little boy in her lap. Her little daughter was glaring though and when Chris looked at her she stuck out her tongue. Brat!
The period ended pretty much on that note and he was in somewhat of a pleasant mood going into the locker room. "Alright!" he exclaimed. "We can build on this! Way to go Brett!"
"Naaaaaw," Brett said looking back at Chelios with icy eyes. "We’re not done yet."
Chelios snagged a water bottle and sat on the bench with it, squirting some in his mouth while the coach began to bark at them about holding in tempers and avoiding bad penalties.
"Dude when was the last time we even had a real fight between us?" Maltby exclaimed. "I think we can keep things under control! It’s only a third period."
That got some more snarls from the coach and the team sat listening to it until the equipment manager ran into the room, "Hey the Avs pulled the trigger on another trade like five minutes ago!" he cried.
The locker room went silent and finally Chelios said. "No shit? What is it?"
The manager shrugged. "I don’t know really some defenseman I think they got a D-man."
There was another silence and Chelios barked. "Look guys it doesn’t matter now!"
God Dammit! Chelios thought, as the third period was only five minutes old. He knew Patrick must have cry-babied about his comments to his teammates. He had already received a heavy hip check from Blake that left him dizzy and then he had barely recovered from that when he felt a swat on his shins from Forsberg’s stick. It sent a jolt of pain through the tender spot Michele had kicked him, and he snarled running at Forsberg, swinging his fist at him and missing.
He could see the "surprise" in the Swede’s face and it pissed him off! "You prima donna!" Chelios yelled at Forsberg as the whistle blew and he felt the squeeze of two Avs as they attacked him. Forsberg looked Chelios in the eye and shrugged a slight grin on his face and Chelios slugged at the men holding onto him.
"Get off!" Chelios snapped.
"What’s with the sucker punches huh?" Rob Blake snapped.
"Bite me!"
"Break it up now!" The ref yelled squeezing into the fracas, "I’m only gonna take one who’s it gonna be?"
That was enough to send the melee breaking up but Chelios could still feel the anger slithering inside him and he skated after the ref. "That Swedish son of a bitch slashed me on the shins!" he yelled. "Huh why don’t you call that? Huh?! I’m just trying to defend myself!"
"You’re lucky I’m not throwing you in for that sucker punch," the ref snarled back, "Now skate away and shut up!"
"Jeeeeee-zus!" Chelios snarled as he skated back to the team.
The anger was boiling inside, boiling, stirring, and fuming within him. The coach snarled at his ear about taking bad penalties and Chelios nodded and muttered to anyone who would hear about what the team was up to against him.
He watched the play for the next couple of shifts without him, he saw the cheap shots thrown at Maltby, and there were still no friggin calls in their favor. And then Maltby was called on a penalty when he breathed on Roy and the baby went down as if he’d been slugged with a two by four!
"Lidstrom, Chelios on the ice!"
The Avs power play started out tentatively and it wasn’t too hard to actually clear the puck for his shift but then as soon as he left the ice he saw Drury blast a shot from the corner that zipped into the top corner of the net.
"Dammit!" Chelios snarled and he slammed his hand on the end of the boards.
The entire team was angry now, Chelios could hear it in Brett’s snarls about Mike Modano’s cheap shot at his hands, and Fedorov’s whine about Chris Drury’s stick up his groin. There was five minutes left in the period and everyone was nursing growing welts from sticks all over their bodies and they were angry.
Chelios was in his own end when he snatched a puck off the boards and then he felt the slam at his side, the stick smacking his sore leg. It was Forsberg again and the wimp was stealing the puck! Chelios bumped him and then couldn’t resist driving his fist up into Forsberg’s side, where that missing spleen was. Peter gasped and threw his fist at the side of Chris’s head and he lowered it. Drury was behind Chelios now and he could feel Drury’s fists battering at his back... why the hell was there no whistle?
Fine then! Chelios thought as he turned and began slugging at Drury, the noise from the crowd was getting deafening and then he felt a rush of air fly over him and a pair of arms around his body. Before he knew it, he had been lifted into the air by Forsberg and dropped on the ice.
"Bitch!" he snarled looking up from the ice. He looked at the ref who seemed to be conveniently not watching.
As he was getting up he could see Holmstrom and Drury tangled with each other, where the hell was the puck?
It was on Alex Tanguay’s stick and as the kid began to stick handle it to the front of Cujo’s net Holmstrom chopped at his legs and the kid flew through the air landing on his back. That’s when the whistle blew and the ref howled at Holmstrom, "Into the box, NOW!"
"Are you INSANE!" Chelios yelled in disbelief, skating to the ref.
"You want in too?" the ref snapped.
"Shit!" Chelios hissed as he skated back to the side of the bench. This was unbelievable, three minutes left in the game and now this?
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