The Tournament

by Angelo Kontos

  1.

  Corey could not wait to see Toronto’s first game of the playoffs, but he stopped short of travelling with the team. He didn’t care what the players or Ken thought of it either. At no point in his life had he ever taken a bus to go anywhere.

  As his plane touched down at Detroit’s Metropolitan Airport, Corey smiled at the thought of Freddy Rozelli swapping the first-class flying arrangements he enjoyed in the pros for an old, chartered coach bus.

  How the mighty had fallen.

  The team’s opponent for the quarterfinal round was Detroit. During the last and only time these two teams met, Toronto was on the receiving end of a 10–0 ass-whipping.

  After a torrid start to The Tournament, Detroit suffered a rash of freak injuries during the round robin, including one to their star player, Steve Reynolds. The injuries resulted in the team taking a dip in the standings before Reynolds and others returned for the final batch of games and Detroit regained their prior dominance, although their overall seeding was just higher than Toronto’s. Reynolds was widely regarded as one of the best players in The Tournament, not far behind Wayne Vanstone of New York. Of course, Mike Hill had also demonstrated consistent brilliance on the ice for Toronto and was turning heads.

  All the playoff rounds were best-of-seven series. Due to the fact that Detroit finished ahead of Toronto, the first two games would be played in Detroit, in front of six thousand dedicated fans who continued to revel in The Tournament. According to Brooks Edwards, Detroit might just run over everyone in their path, starting with Toronto.

  Corey tugged his large carry-on luggage down from the overhead compartment of the plane and smirked at a flight attendant as he pulled it along. He and that flight attendant had an argument about whether it was too big to bring on board, but after making a huge fuss Corey got his way because it just met the weight requirement.

  He rolled his eyes when he saw how long the line was to get through Customs. He could really use a latte.

  2.

  A few hours later, Alex thought he sensed a nervousness in the dressing room that he hadn’t seen since the first batch of games, when the team was struggling to find its way.

  They would be fine after a few shifts, Alex decided. The buildings would all be very loud now, and there was more media attention than any of them had reasonably expected. It was normal to be a little skittish under these circumstances.

  Moments later, Matt led the team onto the ice, and the loyal home crowd in the Motor City rained a chorus of boos on Toronto, the likes of which the guys had not heard before. The boos stopped and gave way to thunderous cheers when the door to Detroit’s dressing room opened and their players came out.

  Right before the puck dropped, Cole Foster was on the air:

  Good evening hockey fans from coast to coast and to our neighbours south of the border in the United States. Cole Foster here with you live from the Motor City – Detroit, Michigan, for the opening game of the playoffs. It’s Toronto versus Detroit!

  Toronto rides a ten-game unbeaten streak into the playoffs, while Detroit has enjoyed a resurgence to the dominance they showed early on with the return of their star, Steve Reynolds, and other key players. This should be one heck of a series!

  For the first several minutes, both teams competed hard for every loose puck and checked each other closely. Detroit players seemed a little surprised that Toronto was not folding as easily as they had in their previous encounter, but they stuck to their game plan and kept the pressure on.

  Their fans grew louder and appeared to be energized by the tempo of the game. If someone just tuned in, they probably would have thought Detroit was creaming Toronto based solely on the fans’ cheering.

  During the second half of the opening period, Detroit players took a cue from their fans and looked like they were gaining strength, while Ken caught a few Toronto players sneaking peeks at the clock to see how much time remained before the intermission.

  Detroit took the game over and poured it on.

  Here they come again! Reynolds has the puck and is moving it smartly up centre. Makes a good move to get away from Mark, who turns and fights to stay with him…Reynolds takes a shot! Great save by Richards! Rebound… Scoooooores!

  The crowd erupted at the goal and the noise was deafening.

  Alex and Barry had logged a lot of minutes during the period and were taken off after the goal. On the next faceoff, Detroit’s Reynolds promptly split the Toronto defence and flew in on a breakaway. He fired a perfect shot into the top corner above Matt’s glove, and just like that it was 2–0.

  The slaughter continued during the second period. Determined to avoid another 10–0 debacle, Toronto players pushed back, but had no answer for Detroit’s tenacity. By the end of the second, Detroit had doubled their lead to 4–0. In the third, a frustrated Toronto squad became undisciplined and got into penalty trouble.

  They just can’t contain this Detroit team! Reynolds has extra room and looks dangerous! Here’s Reynolds moving in on goal! Reeeeeeeeynooooolds… Scores!!!!

  With about a minute left, one of Toronto’s mediocre fourth-line wingers gained the Detroit zone and took a below-average slapshot that beat Detroit’s goalie. It was a bad goal, but no one cared.

  Detroit went on to win Game 1 by a score of 5–1.

  Afterwards, the Toronto dressing room was eerily quiet. No one said a word.

  “You gonna say something?” Isaac asked Alex.

  “Not today,” Alex replied as he grabbed his sticks and left.

  3.

  “I’m sorry the game went so badly,” Becky said over the phone to Mike as he sat up on the bed in his hotel room.

  “I love you,” Mike replied.

  “I love you too. Your hotel’s better?”

  “Yeah, they put us up in a nicer place. Nothing fancy, but no used condoms under the bed.”

  “Gross.”

  The front door to the room opened and Barry Davis walked in holding a large paper bag full of hamburgers. He took one out and tossed it to Mike, who looked surprised.

  Mike nodded a thank you.

  “I gotta go,” Mike said. “My buddy got me a burger and I’m starved.”

  Barry plopped down in a chair and started unwrapping his burger. He didn’t react to being called Mike’s “buddy.”

  “Mike?” Becky said over the phone.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Your dad’s old store,” Becky began. “I just wanted you to know…it’s being leased again.”

  “Okay. That was going to happen sooner or later…what’s the big deal?” Mike asked.

  “It’s…them. You know, that family,” Becky replied.

  Mike thought for a moment.

  “That family?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would they want to be there?” Mike asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Mike looked at his wrapped-up burger. It smelled good, and Barry had already eaten more than half of his.

  “You okay?” Becky asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Mike said. “I’m gonna have that burger.”

  “Mike…”

  “Gotta go, babe. Love you.”

  Barry looked over as Mike stood up, tossed his unwrapped burger on the bed, and then locked himself in the bathroom.

  4.

  Pertia John carefully set a steaming cup of tea down on a table beside her recliner and prayed that Toronto would pull out a victory in the second game of their series against Detroit.

  After that lopsided loss in Game 1, there wasn’t much time to reflect on what went wrong, as the two teams were scheduled to go right back at it the very next night. The boys had to come out flying tonight, but Pertia somehow sensed they would not.

  And she was right.

  Despite the fact Toronto looked stronger in the game’s opening minutes and even scored first on a bad-angle shot by Eddie, Detroit kept coming like a well-oiled machine – and it was not long before Toronto began to unravel
again.

  It soon became hard to watch, and Pertia got up to use the washroom more often than she really had to. She was stuck somewhere in between not wanting to watch anymore and not being able to turn it off.

  The final score of 6–3 seemed more respectable on paper, but it was another dominant victory by Detroit, and they jumped out to a commanding 2–0 series lead in front of their passionate fans.

  Once the game mercifully had ended, Pertia went to bed.

  5.

  Corey returned home from Detroit feeling as low as anyone else on the team. Perhaps he had been foolish for thinking Toronto had a chance against the team that annihilated them during the round robin. Starting with Alex, the creaky captain who packed his knees with ice, they were just not good enough. Sure, they showed some promise for a while, but now it was obvious they’d hit a wall against a better team.

  After his car was returned to him in valet parking and he started driving home from Pearson International Airport in Toronto, Corey thought how great it would be if this series had been a best-of-three instead of a best-of-seven. If that were the case, it would be over now, and Corey could cut ties with Alex and the rest of these losers. There was no conceivable way they would come back against Detroit. It was David vs. Goliath and Toronto was looking for a slingshot.

  It was not long before he arrived home and parked his car in the driveway. His flight out of the Motor City had been delayed significantly and he wondered if the team bus beat him back to Toronto. There was still no sign of Mike’s car.

  Perhaps he could have some “alone” time with Helen, who must surely be missing him.

  Corey went inside without getting his bags out of the car. He was going to capitalize on that “alone” time with his wife while their kids were in school – he could grab his luggage later.

  “Helen, I’m home!”

  Corey dropped his keys on a small table and walked further into the house without removing his shoes, which were tracking a bit of dirt into the main hall. He smelled a fresh pot of coffee brewing on the kitchen counter.

  “Helen!” he called out again.

  Corey stepped into his living room and jumped when he saw Helen standing there quietly.

  “Jesus!” he exclaimed. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  Helen smiled at him. Her eyes were puffy, and her hair was out of sorts.

  “You okay?” Corey asked. “Did the kids get you sick?”

  She reached out and took his left arm by the elbow, massaging it gently.

  “Come here, baby,” Helen whispered. “I missed you.”

  Corey exhaled. The past few days had been a huge drag. Closing his eyes, he pursed his lips together and waited for a kiss.

  He could not have expected Helen to lock his elbow, pull him in quickly and slam a hard punch right in the eye.

  Corey’s head snapped back from the blow. Stunned, he managed to open his eyes just in time to see her fist rush up a second time and crack him across the nose. A third punch across the side of his jaw knocked him off his feet.

  He could see drops of blood hitting the floor from various parts of his face and as he tried to scramble back up, Helen gave him a swift kick to the midsection. Corey sounded like a balloon deflating as he hit the floor again. After kicking him a second time, Helen took a seat in a nearby chair and reached behind herself for something.

  Corey held his stomach and writhed in pain.

  “Wha-wha’the fu…what the fuck?” he gasped and grabbed his bleeding nose.

  Helen held a small stack of photos. She tossed them down on him.

  As soon as he processed what the photos showed, he groaned and realized what a disaster this really was. There were four 8x10 glossy prints of him and the Associate Lawyer lying naked on the couch in his office. To say the images captured him in uncompromising positions would be the understatement of the century.

  “It’s nothing,” Corey managed to say while sitting up with a hand over his ribs. He let go of his nose and it continued to bleed profusely.

  Helen got up from her chair and walked toward him slowly as though she were stalking prey.

  “You cheated on me?” she shouted.

  “It was nothing!” Corey shouted back. “Alright? I’m sorry!”

  “YOU cheated on ME?” Helen raged. “Do you know…do you have any IDEA what I could have done over the years? I was always faithful to you!”

  “Yeah, yeah, well, that’s good,” Corey said quickly.

  “That’s not good, Corey!” Helen yelled. “That’s how it’s SUPPOSED to be!”

  Corey finally managed to stand, and he raised his hands as if to say “Stop.”

  “I know you’re mad,” he said. “Just listen to me for a –”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Helen moved in and kicked him as hard as she could in the groin. Corey made the highest-pitched sound of his life and crumbled to the floor in the fetal position.

  Helen was standing over him breathing heavily when Corey surprised her by jumping to his feet and grabbing her arm. Helen took everything from self-defence to body combat to aerobics. She was in great shape and Corey was a heaping mess. She locked his arm again and drove her knee into his stomach half a dozen times. Corey could barely breathe as he collapsed yet again and lay on his back in their kitchen, coughing and gasping.

  “Did she enjoy the whole two minutes, Corey?” Helen asked bitterly as she picked up a large wooden spoon from the kitchen counter. “Did she get the whole two or the usual one and a half?”

  Corey moaned. Helen sat on him and started smacking him wildly with the spoon all over his face.

  “How could you do this?” she cried.

  Helen continued to pound on him until a powerful set of arms lifted her up and away from Corey. The wooden spoon left her grip and hit the floor.

  “Stop! Come on, Helen. Stop! He’s hurt.”

  It was Mike Hill. Helen tried to focus her eyes on him as he led her to a chair.

  “You have to stop, okay?” Mike said. “Just stop.”

  Helen had a crazed look in her eyes but managed to nod. Corey had rolled over onto his front and was crawling on his hands and knees toward the counter. He tried to pull himself up. Mike ran over and helped him stand.

  Corey’s nose continued to bleed, and his shirt looked like a crime scene. He was hunched over with intense pain coming from his groin. Helen’s spoon shots had connected repeatedly with his left eye, which was swelling shut.

  “I’ve got to take you to a hospital,” Mike said.

  Corey pushed away from him and shook his head. “No. I’m getting out of here.”

  “You can’t drive like this, man,” Mike said.

  Corey ignored Mike, grabbed his keys and went for the door. On the way out, he stopped and looked at Helen.

  “It was nothing.”

  After Corey left, Helen sat there with a blank stare. Mike inched up to her and gently put a hand on her shoulder. She leaned in and let him give her a supportive hug.

  As he did so, Mike saw the photos on the floor and then a paper on the counter by the coffee maker. It was a brief note written in big, bold letters:

  You deserve better. I’m sorry.

  6.

  When he returned home from Detroit, the last thing Eddie felt like doing was going to a funeral home, but on the other hand it occurred to him this might be the best time to do so. He was already feeling lousy after the first two games of the series.

  While he sat in a chair and waited for his meeting with the funeral home director, Eddie wondered if buying a plot for Tommy’s coffin was too morbid a thing to do. He certainly would not have gone there if the hospital hadn’t called him in and relayed the request on behalf of Tommy’s family.

  The funeral director walked in carrying papers. He handed them to Eddie.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Mark,” the director said. “We always do our best to find the best options while working within your budget.”

  He
pointed to a specific plot on the drawings. “This is a new area on our grounds that we’ve just opened. Please have a look at plot number nine.”

  Eddie looked at the sketch and then handed the papers back.

  “No,” he said firmly.

  The funeral director looked confused. “I’m sorry?”

  “Has to be a different number,” Eddie replied.

  “Is there a reason –”

  “Yes.”

  The director smiled politely. Not arguing with grieving or soon-to-be grieving customers was a firm guideline the funeral home followed.

  “As you wish,” he said. “We’ll find a different option.”

  “Thank you.”

  7.

  After stumbling out of his house, Corey drove along Lakeshore Boulevard for an hour trying to figure out his next move. Various parts of his body throbbed, and he could not see properly out of one eye.

  Even though it was early in the afternoon and he knew it might not be the wisest thing, the only place Cory could think to go was his office. He had painkillers in his desk, and he could get off his feet for a while, although that would mean lying down on the couch of sin.

  Corey caught a glimpse of his face in the rear-view mirror and was so horrified that he didn’t look a second time. After parking in his designated underground parking spot, he made no effort to clean himself up or hide any of his injuries as he got on an elevator.

  How could this have happened? He was always so careful. Rumours, he could deny, but photographs? Corey felt sick to his stomach as he stepped off the elevator and barged into the security office.

  A young security guard sat there drinking a giant soda. He had a view of several monitors, including the one in Corey’s office that Corey had disabled. Corey could see a camera looking right at his couch.

  The security guard stopped sipping his soda. “Holy shit. What happened to you, sir?”

  Corey pointed at the monitors.

  “My office,” he said. “Why can I see into my office?”

  “We’re supposed to have cameras looking into the offices in case a client…”