Hat Trick 3: Penalty Shot (12 page)

“Yes, don’t be late. Not a good example. I’ll talk to you again, soon.”

“That you will, bro. Love you, Simon.”

“Love you, too, Zack.”

I keyed off the phone. The day’d already been good, but now it was awesome. Before I got back to what I’d intended to do, I fired off a couple texts to Alex so he’d know the news. Given his responses, even he seemed to think it was good.

Alex, Danny, Trent, Joey, and I were clustered at the back of the bus watching as Hillary broadcast the Rainbow High game to us via FaceTime. We were in Madison on our way to the Kohl Center for our second game of the weekend against the University of Wisconsin’s Badgers. We’d won last night by two and were looking to do the same this afternoon.

Rainbow High, however, was getting slaughtered. We’d gotten a text before we left the hotel that the game was 6-1 as the third period started. Hillary said she’d done her best to give an inspirational talk, along with some strategy, but wanted to know if we had suggestions. Once we were settled on the bus, she started showing us the game.

The team looked to be giving it their all, which I appreciated since it can be difficult to keep going when the score is that lopsided. The team was as aggressive as I’d ever seen them. As we watched though, and the clock got under five minutes, another goal went up for the opposition.

“Their D seem really adept at intercepting passes,” Alex said as we watched. “They’ve got to shorten the passing lanes, and even consider sending back to D and let them charge forward.”

“Carriers don’t seem to be getting picked off, especially if there’s any sort of fake out,” Danny added. “Maybe the guys are telegraphing the passes too much.”

“Our D isn’t doing enough to stop their onslaught either,” I said. “Too many people are focusing on offense instead of making sure they don’t get to score more.”

We hadn’t been to a game in two weeks due to our away schedule, but we knew the scores were tight and the team performed well overall. Practices were going good and we expected Rainbow High to win a game soon. Losing like this was a surprise.

“Hillary,” I called out, “let’s get a time out at the next stop.”

“You got it,” she said, keeping her camera on the action.

“What’s the message?” Danny asked.

“We’ve got to tell them what we’ve noticed,” Alex said.

“And how to try to play against it for the time left. They’re not going to win, but if we change up how they’re playing they might be able to get a couple on the board.”

Coach Rapp headed our way just as the whistle sounded and the timeout was called. “What’s going on back here? You’re all so serious.”

“RH is having its worst game ever,” Trent said as the team filled the screen. “We’re trying to give some last minute advice.”

Alex drew me in closer so our faces could be seen by the team. “Hey, guys,” he said, sounding upbeat, “tough game.” There were nods and chatter from the team. “Listen up,” he said, in a more commanding voice, “couple things we noticed. If you’re passing you gotta make the lanes tighter. Or, drop it back to D if you need to so they can start a charge.”

“D,” I picked up, “you guys need to keep back unless you’re charging forward, and then the center needs to stay back. I know everyone wants to try to score, but if there’s a turnover we have to be ready to answer it. I know we usually coach passing, but with them intercepting so much, take the chance and make a run, deke their D and shoot. There’s still time to get on the board.”

“Scottie, how you doin’?” Joey asked.

“Fine,” he said, matter-of-factly and looking determined.

“I only saw the last goal,” Joey said, “but make sure you’re not committing too quickly. Try not to move until the shot happens. If you’re mid net, you’ve got time to deal with it. Don’t let them fake you out. And, D, don’t let them camp out in front of him. Get in there and move them out.”

Scottie gave a quick nod.

“Bring it in, guys,” Alex said, “loud and proud. Let ‘em know you’re not going down without a fight.”

The team brought their hands in and Scottie did the count with his usual vigor. On three the team yelled “Rainbow High!” and those of us watching the video, including Coach Rapp, did, too.

“Let me see,” Coach said, squishing into the space we had. Watching the six of us huddled around the iPad was comical.

With the face off in front of our net, we won the draw and our D got control of the puck, which was perfect. As they shot around, TJ picked it up on the far side and took off, followed by the other forwards. He moved confidently, getting into the offensive zone before he was challenged. He knocked the puck along the boards and faked out the D so he could get around. He ended up wrapping the puck around the net but couldn’t get past the goalie. At least we were in the offensive zone.

“Damn it,” Alex said, quietly, while adjusting the iPad so we were on mute, “we should’ve set it up to pull Scottie anytime we were on offense.”

“No,” Coach Rapp said. “Better that you didn’t. If you get within one or two, then you get a message to him. Right now you don’t want to risk making the deficit larger.”

Alex nodded.

“Still a few things you guys can learn from me,” he said, giving us a wink and a nod. “That was some good coaching you gave before, and you kept a level head. I know they appreciated not being yelled at.”

“I’ve never understood those coaches,” I said. “I’m glad I never had a yeller. There’s a time for yelling, but not as a consistent coaching tool. At Central if we were yelled at, there was a reason, and we knew we deserved it.”

Coach nodded. “It’s something I use in extreme moderation.”

“I had a yeller for a couple years,” Danny said. “It was bad. I was glad when I moved on to another team.”

“I can’t remember the last time you yelled, Coach,” Trent said.

“I can,” I said, “it was after the shut out Ohio gave us when we were sophomores. And we deserved that, ‘cause we played like shit.”

“Exactly. And you guys haven’t done that since.”

As the game continued, our guys swarmed the offensive zone in good formation and suddenly Walt sent a shot over the goalie’s leg. We cheered as the bus pulled into the arena. The clock was closing in on three minutes and the score was 7-2. Once the bus parked, we filed off but stayed clustered together so we could watch.

We watched the last minutes of the game tick off, and while Rainbow High held the opposition back, they didn’t score again, despite some solid offensive attempts.

“We should get to practice tomorrow,” Alex said after he and Hillary hung up. “Talk about what happened and boost morale.”

I nodded as I started to gear up for our game. “I was already planning to since I missed this week. We can circle the wagons, run some drills based on what went down today and work towards next week.”

Were we starting to let Rainbow High down because we weren’t there enough? Usually at least one of the Wolverines was at practice, but was that enough? Alex may have been right.

Alex stopped lacing his skates and fixed me with an intense gaze.

“Stop it. Right now,” he said quietly but sternly.

I gave him a slight smile. He was good. He knew my mood shifts even before I finished thinking about it.

“This loss proves nothing,” he said as we kept dressing. “I’m enjoying working with them as much as you. Losses happen. We’ll get in there, all of us, and help the team learn from this. Don’t get it in your head that you failed them.” As he pulled his shoulder pads out of the locker, he paused and squeezed my shoulder as he looked deep into my eyes, “It’s all good.”

He grinned and the cloud that was over my head evaporated. Not only could he sense my moods, he knew how to break the bad ones.

“You’re right, of course.”

He tussled my hair as his phone chimed. He fished it out of his khakis that hung in the locker.

“It’s from Hillary.” He read the message out loud: “
Team says thanks for the time out pep talk. We’re going to watch some of the Cannonballs game and then go for pizza. They want you to go out and win.”

Just as he finished, his phone rang out again. He tapped the screen and voices came out of the speaker: “Go Wolverines!” We laughed as those around us gave a strange look. “Rainbow High wishes us a good game,” Alex said, holding the phone up and playing the soundbite again.

“That’s awesome,” I said. “I guess they’re doing okay.”

“Seems so. Now let’s go win this for them,” he said, pulling on his jersey as I finished getting my elbow pads on. He stood waiting for me as I hurried to finish so we could warm up.

“Where’s Other Captain?” Danny asked. “I’m usually the last one here on Tuesdays.”

Tuesdays Danny always cut it close because of his lab and having to put things away. He’d actually been late a couple times, but since Coach knew the situation it wasn’t a problem. I was already concerned that Alex wasn’t here when I got to the locker room. He usually arrived before me since this was a day that he worked at home for EdgeTech, the Detroit company he’d been interning with since we were sophomores.

“He may have gotten stuck in a meeting or something,” I said.

There’d been a few times that’d happened. When it did, he ran suicides after practice, as that was Coach’s punishment for being late. He always did his suicides without complaint, and I’m sure he would this time.

Knowing how long it took him to get dressed, he was running out of time.

“It’s not going to be pretty if he’s doing suicides while we’re getting RH’s practice going,” Trent said.

“Right, a captain and coach being penalized for being late,” Danny added.

“No suicides,” Alex said, sprinting into the room and right up to his locker. He threw his backpack down and started stripping. “I’m here.” He stopped moving for a moment and looked at me. “Hey, you.” He gave me a quick smile.

Despite the smile, he didn’t seem right. It was different than tired. He looked pained somehow, especially around his eyes. He’d been fine when I’d left for class this morning.

“You okay?” I asked as I pulled my jersey on.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “I’ve got a headache.” He was naked and pulling his jock shorts out of his locker and getting into them. “It’s pounding behind my eyes.” He hurriedly put on his undershirt and sat down to work on his skates, shin guards, and socks. “I’m late because I’d laid down and dozed off.”

I picked up his clothes from the floor and put them away in his locker.

“You never take a break in the middle of the day,” I said quietly, keeping this private. “It was that bad?”

“Yeah,” he stole a quick look at me. “I signed off from work, took some aspirin, and lay down for a couple hours. It’s better since I got up.”

He was finishing up with the shin guards and I gave him tape so he could secure them. With all the chatter in the room, no one was listening to us.

“You said it’s better. It’s not gone?”

“No.” He handed me the tape back and stood up. I gave him the shoulder pads to keep the dressing assembly line going. “It’s by far the worst headache I’ve ever had.”

I put a hand on his shoulder to get him to stop for a moment. He looked at me and, without the smile, it was obvious how haggard he was. “Maybe you should take a scratch today? You look rough. Maybe go see Kirk? You’re already too late for your pre-practice routine.”

“It’s just a headache. It’ll be fine. Practice might even help. Get the blood pumping. If I still have it after, I’ll skip practice with the kids, and see Kirk.”

He got his elbow pads in place as most of the team filed out to the ice. I put his helmet on the bench and laid his jersey over it.

“What do I have to do to have someone help me get dressed?” Trent asked, winking at us as he went by.

“Maybe get a boyfriend on the team,” Alex called after him.

“Ha!” Trent yelled back.

I stared at Alex for a moment, that was a ridiculously good comeback, given how rough he was feeling.

“What?” He asked. “I’ve got a headache, it’s not like my brain’s stopped working. He made that too easy.”

“If you start to feel worse, promise me you’ll stop.”

He pulled on the jersey and grabbed his helmet and sticks.

“Promise.” He gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Now let’s go so we’re both not in trouble.”

As we entered the hallway we saw Coach Rapp exiting his office.

“Come on, we’ve at least got to hit the ice at the same time he does,” Alex said.

He took off down the hall and I picked up the pace right behind him. Running in skates on a surface that’s not ice was never easy. Coach heard us clomping down the hall and turned to see who was behind him.

“You two look like injured animals trying to outrun an enemy,” he said, laughing. “I’m sure there’s something I need to study on my clipboard that will let you guys pass me without running.”

We slowed to a brisk walk. True to his word, Coach flipped through papers until we passed him.

“Thanks, Coach,” I said.

“You’re welcome. I can’t have both my captains lagging behind. One of you, sure, I’ll make you pay for it. But both of you? Somehow I can’t do that.”

“Sorry, it’s my fault,” Alex said. “Lost track of time on a work call.”

I stole a quick look and he shot me a glare back, as if he thought I’d contradict him to coach.

“Well, don’t let it happen again,” Coach said, with a hint of amusement. Between both of us, we’d been late maybe a half dozen times in four years, unlike some people who seemed to do suicide runs every few days.

“See you out there,” I said as we made the transition to the ice surface. We headed to the bench, dropped off the spare sticks we had and put our helmets on.

As always, we then took off and sprinted around the rink. Alex was skating at his normal speed, and that was a good sign.

“I wasn’t going to rat you out on the headache,” I said after we’d made a lap. “I hope you know that. I was just surprised because you lied to Coach. He probably wouldn’t have cared if you told him you were actually resting.”