by baseballhockeywriter
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Mine.
Summary: The Boston game.
Notes: Let's see when this shows up, shall we? Part 13 is half-planned already. Why are these they only cooperating muses?
Our mindset was good heading into the Boston game. We'd had good practices all week, Billy was skating with us again, and we were 2-0. At the same time, though, Coach Brown was careful not to let us get too overconfident. Boston was a very, very good team. We wouldn't be able to beat them the way we'd beaten Florida or Sacramento.
You can tell a lot about a team from their pre-game warm-ups, and this one was crisp, well organized, and obviously ready. I thought about the players I'd seen, muttering out loud to the amusement of the people in earshot. "Watch the shot on 15...goalie's got a great glove, keep it away from that...watch the speed on 7...56 looks good speed-wise, too..."
"Ok, Park, enough scouting. We're ready for this one."
"I hope we are," I muttered. Then I realized that wasn't very captain-like, so I stood up, moving to the door area to look over the whole team. "Hey, guys, let's play hard. Sixty good minutes. These guys aren't going to take us seriously. That's a mistake, and we're going to have to show them that. Come on!"
I watched them leave the locker room, patting most on the shoulder. Chris deliberately was last out to steal a kiss, and then we hit the ice.
They came out hard. In fact, two minutes in one of their players deflected a shot from the high slot. Kev had no chance, and they were up 1-0. They were pretty nonchalant. They were apparently used to beating people. I gritted my teeth and hit my stick against the boards. "We're sluggish, boys, pick it up!" I shouted as Boston beat us to another loose puck in the neutral zone.
The first two periods were much the same as the first five minutes. After 40 minutes, they led 3-0, and were outshooting us 22-9. Coach Brown ranted for a minute, then left us alone to recover for the third. Mad at myself for my play thus far, I retied my skates, wondering what I could say to get us fired up again. "Billy, Damon," I said to them, and they sat on either side of me. "Hey, we've got to get some offense going, guys."
Damon shook his head. "They've been all over me. I haven't had a good shot all night."
"I know, I've been out there, too. But we're the first line. We're the guys everyone looks to. We've got to lead. Kevyn's made some really great saves to keep us in this game, we've got to prove to him that we ARE in the game. It's all us, guys. Let's not let them down, huh?"
Smile in place, Billy clapped me on the shoulder. "All right, let's get 'em."
I saw Stormy talking to his defensemen on the other side of the room and smiled. Every day, he became more and more vocal a leader. I'd initially wondered why Coach had given him the 'A', but it was obviously a good decision.
I felt good when we hit the ice for the third period. But right away, things looked to be going Boston's way again. A line change mistake three shifts in gave them a breakaway that looked to put them up by 4. I stood up on the bench, watching Kevyn intently. He wasn't focusing on the puck at all. He looked to be reading the player and keeping the puck in view peripherally. The Boston player faked a shot and brought the puck to the backhand, assuming Kev would be a little slow switching sides.
But Kevyn read him all the way down, and snatched the puck out of the air effortlessly, holding on. The whistle blew for stoppage. "Yeah, Kev!" My cheer echoed all of ours. It was a great save. And a great save he made look easy.
My line went out for the face-off, and I won it cleanly. Luke took it behind the goal and shot up to Billy along the boards. Boston's player tried to keep it from crossing the line, but Billy muscled it by him and dashed across neutral ice. I trailed him, and he left the puck just across their blue line for me to pick up.
In the blink of an eye, I registered everyone's positions. In the same instant, I processed where they were heading, how quickly, when their defenders would arrive, and how much time I had to get the puck in the net. Then my mind blanked and I knew what to do on instinct. The defender came to challenge me, and I faked outside, the pushed then puck through his legs and cut inside around him before he realized what had happened. I saw Billy hovering in the slot and knew what he would do. I kept my current path, controlling the puck easily around the backchecking winger, and faked a shot. The defender who had been covering me had recovered to get in a blocking position, but I wasn't going to shoot through him. Instead, I put the puck right where I knew no one currently was, but where I knew Billy would be right...about...now. Shot, goal.
The light went off as Billy's shot hit the high corner. He pumped his fist in triumph and skated into Damon's embrace. Our other linemate cuffed my helmet. "Jesus, you're good," he said.
"Nice shot, Billy," I responded, ignoring Dame.
"You did all the work," he replied, smiling.
"Lincoln line, you're on!" Coach Brown yelled, and we took our seats. Coach patted all three of our helmets. "Nice work, boys."
"Let's get another, Link," I called, before raising my facemask and squirting some water into my mouth. But Boston buckled down, and we started having the same problem as before of penetrating the zone. Finally, we got a break on a hooking call, and my line went on as the power play unit with Bret Mendoza and Chris.
Our power play strategy of the day seemed to be give the puck to me and see what happened. Chris and Damon were playing the points, with Bret in the high slot and Billy crowding the middle. Our unit was clicking and our control was good, but we couldn't get a shot, and with 30 seconds left they cleared the zone. Kev skated out to pick up the loose puck, and he sent it to Billy. "Billy, stay point," I called. "Bret, you take left. Chris, go inside. Dame, it's showtime."
That was what Damon had been waiting for and he took over in the middle. Billy gave me the puck, and I held on to it while everybody set up. I gave it up to Bret, who passed over to Billy. Billy crossed the ice back to me. I looked towards the goal, and faked a shot, but gave to Chris behind the goal instead. He quickly moved to the other side. "Stormy, go Dame!" I shouted, seeing the lane open up.
He saw it too, and set a perfect pass right to Damon's stick. I hadn't seen him miss one in years. His picture perfect one-timer got in there so fast, I doubt anyone saw it. He hit his target and the goal light went off. We were within one.
Coach Brown clapped furiously on the bench, but his enthusiasm was short-lived. Michael Fischer took a holding penalty a few seconds later. Coach looked over us. "Bret, Luke, Brandt, Dylan, kill it," he said, and the four players hopped onto the ice.
We got a break there, too. We played Bret on penalty kill because he's the fastest player on the team. He was covering the high slot when Dyl cleared it up the middle. Bret didn't touch the puck, just let it go past him and chased it. At first, the pointmen didn't think it was a threat, but suddenly it seemed they realized that Bret was going to get to the puck long before their goalie was going to be able to. The backchecked frantically, but it was too late. Bret scored easily, tying the game.
Our bench erupted. The Boston players were looking defeated, like they had no idea how the team they had dominated in the first two periods could have suddenly tied the game.
Hockey's a game of luck, a lot. That and breaks. We got another lucky break with 7 seconds left. Billy got a sudden breakaway, and the defender tracking him down decided tripping was easier than catching him. Billy went flying as the whistle blew. He got up slowly, shakily skating over towards the bench. "You ok?" Dame asked him worriedly.
He took a deep breath and shook his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, I'm good," he said, and then his grin was back in place.
"Penalty shot, Coach," the ref called. "Anyone on the ice can take it."
"Parker," Coach called. "Your shot."
I was trailing the group going to the bench, and a Boston player skating by gave me a sneer as he passed. "Harv's stopped more penalty shots than anyone in the country this season," he said. "So good luck, southern boy."
I didn't give him the benefit of a reply. My impending goal would be response enough. "Park," Kevyn said, motioning me over. "Use the same thing on him you did on me that first day. If I've never seen it before, neither has he."
I nodded, then lowered my facemask and got the puck from the ref, setting it down on the ice.
"You got it, Park!" Billy chattered. "All yours, man!"
I tuned out both my teammates and the hecklers from the Boston bench, remembering the move I'd used on Kevyn months ago.
It fooled Kevyn. This guy was completely clueless. I whirled fast enough that he was still on his knees expecting the backhand when I flipped it easily into the open net on the other side. Billy and Damon were on me in an instant, both talking at once.
"That was beautiful, Parker!" Damon yelled. "Oh, man..."
Billy just grinned and shook his head. I looked over towards the bench, where Chris was smiling at me. He winked, his eyes shining, and I smiled back. "Stay out there, MAD line," Coach called. I won the face off, we controlled for seven seconds, and we beat the number one team in the nation.
They looked completely shocked, and Chris, Billy, and I made sure our celebration was toned down. After all, we didn't want to treat this as an upset. We wanted to act like we knew we were better, and had expected a win.
Once in the locker room, Coach Brown gave us a speech on how this wasn't a tournament or anything. We had a lot of hockey left to play. It didn't kill our exuberance, though, especially since we had officially earned the right to call him 'Frank' with this win. "Also, I forgot to assign roommates for this trip, so pick your own. Four to a room."
Dame and Billy grabbed me immediately, and I dragged Chris into it. "Wow, look," Damon said. "I'm rooming with the entire leadership of the team."
"You're so lucky," Billy said lightly, messing up Damon's just-combed hair. "It's cuter messy," he explained.
Damon rolled his eyes, but I noticed he left his hair the way Billy had 'arranged' it.
And still glowing from our four goal period and win, we headed back to the hotel.