“Of course,” the doctor replied. “She’s been asking for you every day.”
Curtis thanked the doctor and shook his hand. They agreed to be in touch after The Tournament was over, or earlier if necessary.
When Curtis walked into his mother’s room, she was standing by the window looking outside. As soon as she turned around and saw Curtis, she ran over to him.
“Son, I want to go home.”
72.
The absence of Matt’s laptop bothered him to no end, especially when he was around the boat. He had developed an obsessive habit of checking for a response to his e-mails, and although there never were any, he was still somehow comforted by the idea that one day he would look and find a warm, glorious reply to any of the dozens of messages he had sent over the past six months.
When the team returned from New York, he decided that he had to check. Matt walked into a public library near his boat to use the free WiFi. He may have thought he was simply fulfilling the ritual of checking his e-mail before moving on with the rest of his day, but he was caught completely off guard when he saw the 1 New Message he had been waiting for. Nervously, Matt found the mouse and clicked on it.
The message opened and Matt read:
I do not want your e-mails. Please stop sending them.
After sitting there for some time, Matt finally got up and left the library. On his way back to the boat, he flipped his old cellphone open and dialed his father’s number.
“Hey, Dad. I thought about what you said…I’m ready.”
73.
More than twenty-four hours had passed, and Brooks Edwards had still not retracted the accusations or provided any evidence to support the claim that Ken had an inappropriate relationship with a former player. Corey filed a civil lawsuit for defamation against Brooks as well as the two media outlets that allowed him to publish the story.
Brooks was served with a copy of the lawsuit just before leaving for the rink and tried to play it cool, but he was still unprepared for the spotlight that had now been turned back on him. After he made it through the front doors, he was surrounded by a mob of reporters.
“How do you plan to respond to the lawsuit?”
“Can you offer any proof to support the allegations against Toronto’s coach?”
“Will you go to court?”
“Can you identify your source, Brooksie?”
Brooks sneered at the reporter who asked the last question. Reveal a source? What planet were these people on?
“No comment,” Brooks said repeatedly as he tried to brush past them. “I’m sure you can appreciate there’s not much I can say right now.”
“Will you fight it?”
“Of course,” Brooks replied. “Excuse me.”
Brooks scurried away and ducked into a washroom.
Inside Toronto’s dressing room, the players were ready by the door and eager to hit the ice. If Ken was struggling with the idea of facing the home fans, he masked it well. He was all business as he ran through line combinations and defensive pairings.
Alex looked over at Eddie’s empty stall. He had been so preoccupied with everything and felt guilty for not checking in on him. Eddie was that friend and teammate who was not appreciated enough until he wasn’t around.
Predictably, the arena was bumping. Alex poked his head out and saw Cole Foster down the hallway, away from the crowd noise. He was on his cellphone. After a moment, he hung up and stared blankly while holding a handkerchief up to his mouth.
“Hey Cole-y,” Alex called out. “Everything okay?”
Cole quickly composed himself. “Hi there, Alex. Everything’s fine. Thanks.”
He walked by Alex and back toward the rink.
“Good luck out there tonight. Big game,” Cole said over his shoulder.
Ken received a mixed reaction from the crowd when he took the bench. The jeers were mostly drowned out by the support of those who seemed either to believe he was innocent or were at least prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt.
With Eddie out of the lineup, Mike was taking as many faceoffs as possible. He won the game’s opening draw against New York’s Vanstone, and that elicited a roar of approval from the fans.
And here we go, folks! Bucco controls the puck after the draw and hits Banion with a great pass on the wing. Banion makes a move to gain the zone…takes a shot! Stopped! Big rebound there…Banion again… Scooores!!!
The sold-out crowd of ten thousand were nearly all on their feet already, so when Isaac scored most of them simply jumped up and down on the spot and cheered. It was the quick start that Toronto wanted and New York had hoped to avoid.
The players on the ice swarmed Isaac to celebrate, led by Alex who picked him up in a hug and carried him into the boards.
“Let’s go, baby!” Isaac shouted.
New York double-shifted Vanstone and Marty Reed to try and get something going. When a Toronto player was slow to get off for a change, New York applied pressure.
Here’s Vanstone with Reed on a break! Two on one! Vanstone with a great move! He finds Reed…a shot! Ohhhhhhhhhhh and what a save by Richards!
The fans gave Toronto’s netminder a standing ovation for the great glove save he made on a rocket shot by Reed.
What a stop by Matt “The Cat” to keep his team out front 1–0. He looks sharp early in the game and that’s a great sign for Toronto.
On the bench, Ken went up and down behind his players, yelling at them to not miss checking assignments. Vanstone controlling the puck on an odd man rush simply could not happen again. The frenzied pace that started the game eventually began to settle down near the ten-minute mark of the first period, and Toronto carried a one-goal lead into the first intermission.
The second period featured back-and-forth, fast-paced action. For the first time in the entire tournament, Ken and Freddy shared Alex almost equally between forward and defence. Every time he came off the ice, Alex looked to his coaches to see where he was going next. This also meant that Barry Davis, the other force for Toronto on defence, was double-shifted regularly.
Vanstone and Mike went head-to-head on most shifts and traded brilliant rushes up and down the ice. On one play when Alex parked himself in front of the New York net, he was promptly cross-checked by Marty Reed and a penalty was called. Alex got to his feet and skated away without even looking at Reed, who cursed himself all the way to the penalty box.
On the ensuing power play, Mike took advantage of the extra room and snuck a pass through to Curtis for an easy tip-in, but Curtis missed it and the puck went to the corner before being cleared out by a New York player.
Thirty seconds later, Toronto was right back in the New York zone controlling the play. Mike set Curtis up again with a beautiful pass, but Curtis missed the wide-open net a second time.
After New York managed to kill off the rest of the penalty, Curtis lowered his head on the bench. Mike shuffled in and sat beside him. He tapped Curtis’s helmet with his glove for encouragement.
Late in the middle period, Vanstone timed a low shot from outside the slot as one of his speedy wingers flew in and tipped the puck perfectly past a helpless Matt, to tie the score 1–1 in front of the shocked crowd.
Now heading into the second intermission, the game was tied, and the teams were undoubtedly in for what Cole Foster called a “wild finish.”
In the dressing room, Barry scowled at Curtis.
“What’s your problem?” Curtis asked.
Barry did not respond, but kept glaring at him. Curtis stood up and so did Barry.
“I said, what’s your problem?” Curtis asked as he gave Barry a hard shove.
Alex and Isaac dove at Curtis and held him back. Barry found his balance and tried to get at Curtis. Mike and a few others intercepted him.
Ken and Freddy also came running over.
“What the hell is this?!” Ken yelled.
As tall as Alex was, he felt small standing next to Curtis, but stepped out in front of him
nonetheless.
“What are you doing, big man?” Alex asked.
Curtis had always been a gentle giant, and Alex never saw him act like this.
“Why’s he staring at me?” Curtis demanded.
“He stares at everybody,” Isaac responded. “He’s a weird cat.”
Barry turned around and went back to his stall. Curtis finally let his teammates guide him back to his. He took his towel and slammed it on the floor.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Ken announced sternly. “This is completely unacceptable. Unless you want to go back to New York facing elimination, I suggest you get your heads out of your asses and let’s go over a few things.”
Before the third period started, Cole had to be reminded by a production assistant that he was going back on the air live in less than a minute.
Welcome back to Toronto for a real nail-biter of a third period here in Game 5. And make no mistake, these teams have been going at it on every shift. Of course, whoever wins tonight will hold a 3–2 advantage in this best-of-seven series and have a chance to win it all back in New York City.
Here we go!
As expected, both teams came out hard to start the final period. New York’s goalie, very average compared to Matt, made half a dozen excellent saves in the first few minutes and was playing his best game of the series.
Hockey, like any sport, features stretches of good and bad luck. Early in the third, Toronto’s luck was unmistakably bad as Alex, Mike and Isaac all took turns ringing shots off the goalpost.
The bad luck continued. When the puck rattled off the boards in Toronto’s end and Matt stepped out of his net to corral it – even though Alex was right there to play it – the puck hit a rut in the glass partition and came right out in front. A surprised New York winger made no mistake and buried the puck in the open net, giving New York a 2–1 lead with about half a period to play in regulation.
Everyone on the Toronto roster recognized that as an unfortunate play and tried to keep their cool, but it was a bitter pill to swallow after rattling three goalposts without scoring. Alex looked at Matt and wondered why he came out of the net to play that puck, but then put it out of his mind. He and Mike were barely coming off for quick breathers before taking the ice again for another shift.
With about five minutes left to play, Matt stretched into a butterfly and made an amazing toe save. A loose puck came back around the net, and he covered it for a faceoff. After the referee blew the whistle, Matt was slow to get up. The trainer came onto the ice to check on him as Matt favoured his left leg. He got to his feet and tried to skate it off. To everyone’s relief, Matt nodded to the bench that he was okay.
Angus sat on top of his Zamboni and nervously watched the clock tick down.
Before long, there was only a minute and a half left and Toronto called a timeout. The next faceoff was just outside New York’s zone. Ken and Freddy planned how to proceed if they won or lost the draw. It was obviously crucial to get possession of the puck as quickly as possible and pull out all the stops for a goal.
Toronto lost the draw, but New York turned the puck over and they regained possession. Matt hurried to the bench and Todd jumped over the boards as the sixth attacker.
Barry carried it across the New York line and fed the puck down low to Mike. Fans at the Arena Gardens were on their feet now as the PA announcer blared out “Last minute of play in the third period.”
The pressure’s on and Toronto players are all over the place! Here’s a shot! Big scramble in front! Reed takes a swing at it for New York, but no! He can’t clear it! Hill takes the puck to the corner…looking desperately for an outlet…dodges a check and comes out with it! Dishes off to the point…Bucco winds up for a shot…doesn’t take it…sends it back to Hill…here’s ANOTHER PASS…
Curtis used his massive size to plant himself in front of the net and look for another easy tip-in. He reacted late and missed the puck again as it came across, but right behind him this time was Isaac Banion, who got just enough of the puck to redirect it past the goal line.
SCOOOOOOOOOOORE! Isaac Banion…with his second goal of the game, ties it up for Toronto! And with forty-five seconds left in regulation, the game is tied! And would you listen to this crowd? They’re going crazy!
Overtime. The game was not for the faint of heart.
None of Matt’s teammates dared say a word while watching him stretch out his leg and groin in the dressing room prior to the extra period. He was wincing, but gave no indication that he couldn’t resume playing. After a few minutes, Ken went by to check on him. Matt kept nodding and saying he was fine.
At the hospital, Eddie was back in Tommy’s room watching the game. He was scheduled to have the packing inside his nose removed at the surgeon’s office the next morning and was counting the minutes.
In the meantime, he paced back and forth nervously as he watched his teammates take the ice for overtime.
Both Ken and New York’s coach took turns standing on their benches and yelling at the referee, who had suddenly decided to start calling penalties. As the overtime approached the ten-minute mark, Toronto and New York had each killed off one penalty. The fans were on the ref too, but they appeared to momentarily forget their anger when another penalty was called against New York.
On the ensuing power play, Mike controlled the puck in the corner and turned away from a New York player who was trying to steal it from him. The same player put his stick under Mike’s armpit and used considerable force to haul him down to the ice.
The crowd went ballistic as there was no call, but Mike managed to get the puck back to Alex on the point while he was being hauled down. Alex dished it across the blue line to Barry before giving the referee an earful for not calling the hook against Mike.
Barry took a shot that just missed. As the puck came around behind the net, Mike grabbed it and dropped a neat little pass to Isaac.
Now here’s Banion picking it up and coming out front with a shot! Big save! Here’s Banion again! He scores!!! Banion SCORES!!! Gets the rebound and Toronto wins it!
Angus jumped off the Zamboni, even though he had bad knees, and landed just in time to catch Helen who ran into his arms as the crowd in the arena went wild.
As soon as the red goal light went on for Isaac’s game-winner, Matt dropped his stick, glove and blocker and raced down the ice to join his hysterical teammates. His father stood up behind the glass and kept repeating to those around him, “That’s my boy!”
In the stands, Corey pumped his fist and roared. He even high-fived people around him and didn’t look awkward doing so.
A relieved Ken and Freddy held each other and looked up at the replay on the big screen.
After taking the drop pass from Mike, Isaac skated out front and took a quick snapshot, which the New York goalie stopped – but the rebound came right back out and Isaac danced in and split the two New York defencemen. The rebound was bouncing, and Isaac took a two-handed golf swing at it. He connected perfectly and the puck went through the sprawling goalie’s legs.
Isaac turned around and with his arms raised in victory, he skated toward Alex until he got close enough to jump on him. The rest of their teammates piled on.
Inside Tommy’s room at the hospital, Eddie leapt about ten feet in the air when Isaac scored the game winner. He closed his eyes and was grateful that his team had come out on top of that game, as much as it hurt him to not be part of it.
74.
Mike’s wife and three sons finally stayed with him at the Peters residence following the game. They would leave for home in the morning after Mike and the team departed for New York City.
It took longer than usual to get the kids to settle down, and the same was true of Helen’s children. They were wired at Toronto’s big victory and were all gushing over Mike, who had matched Wayne Vanstone’s brilliance every step of the way once again.
The night felt perfect until Mike asked Becky if she’d heard anything else about his father’s
old store since the fire. She absent-mindedly mentioned there was nothing new except that someone spray-painted graffiti all over the burnt-out walls inside. It was the community gossip.
“What’s it say?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know, Mike,” Becky yawned. “Who cares? I’m sure it’s something dumb.”
Mike waited until Becky and the boys were sound asleep before he slowly extricated himself from the bed, put his clothes on and tiptoed out the door to his car. Before long, he was on yet another late-night drive home. If Becky woke up panicked about where he was, he had his cellphone.
Running on adrenaline following the game, Mike was very alert as he sped along Highway 401. Mike drove right up to the store and stopped his car in front.
Sheets of plywood covered the large space blown out by the fire where the storefront used to be, but the vandals had busted it open and gone inside with their spray paint. Mike entered through the vandals’ hole and activated the flashlight on his cellphone to illuminate the space.
There was a crude drawing of an Indigenous man with an exaggerated feather headdress dancing around a fire, whoop-whooping against his mouth with an open palm. Mike moved the light around.
No Sqwas No Reds Alowd
These rednecks could not even spell properly. Mike suddenly felt silly for going to so much trouble just to see this crap. He was on his way back out when his phone’s light flashed across the drawing again and he caught something that he had not noticed the first time. He shone the full light on it.
An arrow pointed to the dancing man by the fire. The wording beside the arrow read: Chief Hill – Wa-wa-wa-wa!!
Mike stared at the drawing for a long time before going back to his car. The dashboard clock read just before 2:00 a.m. Bars would be closing, and he had to hurry if he was going to time this right.
75.
During those nights when Isaac was jamming downtown by Union Station, he often thought about his daughter and Melanie. After a while he would force himself to think of something else because it hurt too much, especially when he realized how his little girl’s life was moving on without him.
The Tournament Page 43