Body Check

by Matt Christopher

  As the power-play unit got set, Brent looked at the defensive setup. The four defensemen had formed a diamond with Cam at the point, facing Sandy. Vic and Barry flanked him, back a few yards on either side. Gavin was deep, playing just in front of the cage, five feet from Chip. Coach Maxwell placed the puck at Sandy’s feet, stepped back, and blew the whistle.

  Cam charged at the startled Sandy, who hadn’t expected it. Hastily, he slapped a pass to Brent on his left. Brent took it on his stick and held it a moment, eyeing Vic, the closest defender. Cam swerved away from Sandy and went toward Brent. At the same time, Vic moved in as well. The two obviously hoped to trap Brent before he could get rid of the puck. But Brent skated down the ice along the boards, away from Cam. Seeing Burt open, not far from the goalmouth, he fired the puck at him.

  As Brent took the pass, Chip shifted to face him. Arno, on offense, moved in front of the goal, and Gavin slid over to cover him. Burt wheeled around and passed across the ice to Ted near the right-side boards. Barry raced toward Ted, who feinted as if he were going to pass back to Sandy, hoping to draw Barry out of position and possibly open up a shooting lane.

  But Barry didn’t bother with the feint. He kept going straight at Ted, who moved to his right, closer to the boards, hoping to swing around Barry and get deeper and closer to the crease — the area immediately in front of the goalmouth. At the same time, Arno turned and moved away from the goal so Ted could get him the puck.

  Seeing Arno skate toward him, Ted flicked a backhand pass down the ice to Arno, figuring that Barry would turn and move back to help Gavin protect the crease. From his position across the ice, Brent watched the action, assuming, as Ted did, that Barry would back up to help prevent any shots.

  But Barry ignored the puck and zeroed in on Ted, who had turned to watch Arno take his pass. He was ready to move in behind Arno and be in position if Arno chose to pass back out. Concentrating on the play near the goal, Ted was paying no attention to Barry. Head down, arms pumping, Barry lowered his shoulder and slammed into Ted.

  Ted slumped to the ice and didn’t move. Coach Maxwell blew his whistle and raced over. Ted slowly got to his knees and shook his head. He tried to get to his feet.

  Brent couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Barry, an easygoing guy, never lost his temper. He had rarely drawn a penalty, and when he did, it wasn’t done on purpose. Now, he watched Coach Maxwell take Ted’s arm and help him off the ice to a bench. After Ted sat down, the coach had Ted remove his helmet and squatted in front of the dazed boy. He looked at him and spoke to him quietly. Ted nodded, and Brent heard him say, “I’m okay. It just knocked the wind out of me, that’s all.”

  Brent was sure that Ted was only stunned. He saw that Barry looked a little stunned himself, standing near the boards, as if he could not understand or believe what he had done. Vic skated over to Barry and draped an arm around his shoulders, saying something to him. Brent couldn’t hear what he said, but he saw Barry wheel around and look at Vic with surprise.

  “No! You’re wrong!” Barry said. “I didn’t want that.” He shook off Vic’s arm and glared. Vic shrugged and skated over to Cam.

  After making sure that Ted was all right, Coach Maxwell went back on the ice and skated over to Barry. The rest of the Badgers stood around quietly.

  When the coach spoke, he didn’t raise his voice. “If this had been a game, and I was an official, I’d have called that a major penalty for charging. A strict official might even make it a misconduct penalty, which would mean ten minutes in the penalty box. Personally, I’d make it only five, because Ted wasn’t badly hurt — luckily.

  “But, whether it’s a major or a misconduct, it’s bad news — for several reasons. First, that’s a way for players to get seriously hurt. Second, it’s bad sportsmanship. Third —”

  “But he was only —” Vic started to say.

  Coach Maxwell turned and stared at Vic, who stopped immediately.

  “Third,” the coach went on, as though nobody had said a word, “it gives the other team a long power play and a very good chance at a goal. Any one of these is reason enough not to do it. But all three of them together… ” — He paused and shook his head — “I don’t want to see that kind of thing, in practice or games. Vic, was there something you wanted to say?”

  “Uh, well… it was just a body check, what he did,” said Vic. “I mean, that’s the way it looked to me, anyway.”

  “Number one, Ted didn’t have the puck when he was hit. Number two, his back was to the player who hit him. That makes it a serious foul, not just a body check. If you want to be sure, see the rule book. Coach Seabrook, anything to add?”

  The other coach cleared his throat and said, “Uh, no, I think you said it all. What happened was… very unfortunate. Now I’m sure that Billy didn’t mean to —”

  “His name is Barry,” said Coach Maxwell.

  “Right, of course… Barry didn’t mean to do what he did, especially in practice, to a teammate. But, to look on the bright side, I’ll just point out that, uh, the other player, uh… ”

  “Ted,” Coach Maxwell said.

  “Thanks… Ted seems fine, and, boys, you can learn a couple of valuable lessons from what just happened. First, you have to be alert at all times when you’re on the ice, and second… well, I guess the second thing is, don’t do anything that would put your team at a disadvantage, like being caught in a major-penalty situation. I guess that’s all I have to say. Thank you, Coach.”

  Coach Maxwell didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he sighed and looked around. “Let’s call it a day. We have two more practices before we play the Cyclones, and they always are tough competition, so let’s be ready to work hard tomorrow. Now let’s stow the gear.”

  The coaches and players put away the cones, cages, and other equipment. On the way to the locker room, Brent caught up with Chip.

  “Hey,” Chip said, looking and sounding depressed. “What’s up?”

  “I was wondering,” Brent said, “how come Coach Seabrook had you and Max in full pads today?”

  Chip started to answer, then stopped and looked around as if to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard. He spoke in a whisper. “He talked to Max and me about how to use our blockers and catching gloves and stuff to… well… sort of… shove people away or knock them off balance when they are in the crease. Like when there’s a bunch of players in front and the ref and the linesmen’s views are blocked… that kind of thing.”

  Brent whistled. “Sounds like dirty playing to me.”

  Chip shrugged. He looked even more depressed. “Yeah, I said that, but the coach says that’s how the game is played, that that’s how they separate the winners from the losers, so we better get used to it. I mean … I don’t know. I guess he knows what he’s talking about.”

  Brent couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And what Barry just did to Ted… is that the kind of stuff Coach Seabrook wants us to do, too? Is that why it happened?”

  Chips eyes grew wide. “That? Oh, no.”

  Brent felt a little better. “I hope not.”

  “No, you’re not supposed to do it right in the open where a linesman can see you. You do it only when you’re sure you won’t get caught,” said Chip. “Barry totally messed up. Well, I better get these pads off. See you.”

  Brent watched Chip trudge into the locker room. He didn’t know what to think. The kind of hockey that Coach Seabrook was teaching went against everything he believed — and not only about sports but life in general. Rules were there to be followed. He was certain of that.

  But then a scary thought came to him.

  Could it be that Coach Seabrook was right? That what made some players winners and others losers was that the winners knew when to cheat and get away with it? Maybe that was what it was all about, and Coach Maxwell had it wrong. Maybe Lee was wrong too… after all, Lee might be a few years older than Brent, but he was basically still a kid himself.

  Brent wished he could be s
ure.

  And he wondered, too, if the way Coach Seabrook taught hockey was the way it was supposed to be played. If so, could he play that way?

  Did he even want to?

  7

  As Brent changed into his street clothes, he noticed that the locker room was unusually quiet. There were some guys talking in low voices, while others — like himself — just dressed without a word.

  He left the locker room with his equipment bag, then remembered unhappily that he was going to share a ride home with Cam, as he did on most days. Normally he looked forward to it, but not today.

  Cam was already outside, and when he saw Brent, he turned away.

  “Do me a favor,” he said before Brent could say a word. “Don’t start with that stuff. I’m not in the mood.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Brent replied. “If you don’t want to talk, well, okay.”

  Cam wheeled around. He looked upset. “You know what I mean!” he snapped. “Don’t start with that stuff about how terrible it is that the Badgers are going to be playing a different kind of hockey now. If you don’t like it, that’s your problem.”

  Brent found it hard to speak. “You don’t mind what happened to Ted? That’s all right to you?”

  “What happened to Ted? He got knocked down, that’s all. He didn’t get hurt, did he? No, he didn’t! Next time, he’ll be looking for the other guy, and maybe he’ll learn to play harder, too.”

  Brent shook his head, feeling very depressed. “And Barry will learn that you can play dirty, just so you don’t get caught.”

  Cam rolled his eyes. “It’s about time we got someone in here who knows how the game is really played! Last year the Cyclones whipped us, but this year maybe we’ll have a couple of surprises waiting for them. I think we’ll beat them if we play to win, and Coach Seabrook knows about playing to win. Wake up, dude! Join the real world!”

  Brent said, “You know, you’re right. We better not talk anymore. If that’s what the real world is all about, maybe I’d rather stay out of it.”

  Cam shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  The two boys didn’t say anything more until Mrs. Mullen showed up a few minutes later. They still hadn’t spoken when she dropped Cam off at his house.

  “Thanks, Mrs. M.,” Cam said as he pulled his equipment out of the car and slammed the door behind him.

  Brent’s mother looked at her son. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Brent muttered. “I don’t know. It’s… nothing.”

  Mrs. Mullen sighed. “I can see that it’s not ‘nothing,’ but if you won’t talk, I’m not going to pry. I just hate to see two good friends acting like this.”

  Brent’s bad mood lasted through dinner. The family saw that something was wrong but didn’t try to get him to open up. As he picked at his food, Brent saw a look pass between his father and Lee. Sure enough, as soon as dinner was over, Lee said, “Got a minute?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  The brothers went to the basement, which was fixed up as a den. Brent sprawled on a couch, and Lee sat on a chair across from him.

  “What’s up?” asked Lee. “Something wrong between you and Cam?”

  Brent sighed. “I guess.”

  Lee nodded. “You were worried about a couple of things the other day. How’s it going with the new coach and the new kid?”

  “Terrible!” Brent said. “I think this Coach Seabrook is bad news. I don’t know, maybe he’s right and Coach Maxwell is wrong, and I’m wrong and you’re wrong. I just don’t know what to do. But Cam thinks the new coach is great and that he’ll make us into a winning team, and maybe he will, but if that’s how you get to be a winning team then I don’t think I want to be on a winning team —”

  “Hey, slow down,” Lee said. “Let’s hear what this guy is doing. Take your time.”

  Brent described what had happened since the new coach had started with the team. He talked about Barry and Ted, and then he told him what Chip had said about Coach Seabrook teaching the Badgers to get away with illegal plays. As Brent talked, Lee’s frown grew deeper.

  “Anyway,” Brent went on, “the thing with Cam happened because Cam thinks Coach Seabrook is right. And he thinks that that’s how we should play. So I said that I didn’t like it, and he got all uptight.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lee said. “I can see how that would bother you. It would get to me, too.”

  “The thing of it is,” Brent said, staring at his brother, “I don’t know, maybe that is how to play the game. I just don’t know!”

  “Don’t even think that.” Lee stood up and began walking back and forth across the room. “If this new guy is right and Coach Maxwell is wrong, then the guys I play with and our coach are wrong, too. And that doesn’t just go for hockey, either.”

  The older boy stood still for a moment thinking. He sat back down and looked hard at Brent. “Are you absolutely sure about what you’re telling me? I mean, there’s no way you could have misunderstood, is there?”

  Brent shook his head. “No way! I saw Vic commit fouls, I saw Barry slam into Ted, and I heard what Chip said. And I talked to Cam. The thing is, what should I do now?”

  Before Lee could reply, footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Mr. Mullen appeared on the landing. “I don’t want to interrupt, but is there something I should know about?”

  “Yeah, there is,” said Lee. “This Coach Seabrook is bad news. Brent says he’s teaching guys to cheat and play rough. Somebody’s going to get hurt, and I think he should be stopped!”

  Mr. Mullen was a hockey fan who’d played in his younger days. He said, “That’s a serious accusation. If it’s true —”

  Brent jumped in, anxious to convince his father. “It is!”

  Mr. Mullen sat on the couch. “Mind going through it again, for my benefit?”

  Brent repeated what he’d told Lee.

  “See?” demanded the older boy. “This guy has to be stopped! They shouldn’t let him coach! And his kid sounds like bad news, too.”

  “Brent, I don’t doubt your word,” Mr. Mullen said, “but I’d like to know a little more before I do anything. It’s important that we don’t act too hastily. First, I want to call Coach Maxwell and hear what he says about all this. If he’s not happy with the new coach, then I may call some other parents and discuss this with them. But I need Coach Maxwell’s input first. Till then, keep this to yourselves. No talking to your friends or anyone else, understood?”

  Lee nodded. Brent looked unsure. “What do I do? We have practice tomorrow. What if Coach Seabrook wants me to do something I don’t like?

  “Say, ‘No way!’” Lee said.

  Mr. Mullen smiled. “I wouldn’t put it that way, but if anyone asks you to do something that you don’t feel right about, don’t do it. You can simply say that you believe in playing by the rules of the game, and that’s what you’re going to do. I can’t believe that Coach Maxwell would stand for anything else. Don’t yell, don’t be rude. Just tell them that you plan to stick to the rules. All right?”

  Brent felt a little better. “Yeah.”

  “Good,” said Mr. Mullen. “I’ll phone Coach Maxwell tonight. And, Brent, I’m pleased that you know the difference between right and wrong. It makes me feel we did a good job raising you.”

  Brent was happy to hear his father say that. He only wished that doing the right thing was easier to live with.

  8

  Brent was uneasy about practice the whole next day. His father had met with Coach Maxwell that morning, and they’d had their chat. But Brent didn’t have a clue about what had been said. He had avoided Cam during school, and Cam probably had been just as pleased not to run into him.

  When Brent arrived at the rink, Coach Maxwell was standing by himself outside. He saw Brent and walked over.

  “I was hoping to catch you before we started today,” he said. He pointed to a bench under a tree in a little park across the street. “Let’s sit down and talk for a few minutes.�
�

  Brent nodded. He suddenly felt terribly nervous. His throat was dry, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk. It suddenly struck him that he’d done a terrible thing: he’d complained about one of his coaches. Maybe he’d even get kicked off the team!

  Once he and the coach were sitting on the bench, Coach Maxwell said, “I had a long conversation with your dad this morning. He told me about what was on your mind.”

  Brent stammered, “I know I shouldn’t go behind a coach’s back, but I —”

  “That’s all right,” said the coach, waving off Brent’s apology. “I know that what happened yesterday bothered you, and I understand it. It left some other boys feeling the same way. Just between us, your father wasn’t the only parent I heard from afterward.”

  Brent was startled, he had thought that he’d been the only one to be worried. “Who else?” he asked.

  Coach Maxwell shook his head. “I can’t discuss that, and I’d appreciate your not mentioning what I just told you. I’m not sure I should have even said that much, but I felt you needed to realize that you weren’t alone.

  “There’s something else I want you to understand, too. I’ve coached the Badgers for a long time. It’s my team, and it’ll keep being my team, and I’m going to keep being the same kind of coach I’ve always been. A won-lost record has never been my top priority. Working with young athletes like you, a coach’s biggest responsibility is seeing that they respect the rules and practice sportsmanship. So don’t worry about us turning into a bunch of bad guys. It’s not going to happen.”