Last Shot

by David Skuy

He headed to the door. “Take care, Jimmy. See you at the game,” he called out.

  Jimmy waved and flashed a thumbs-up.

  Rocket didn’t move. He stared off in the distance, a thousand thoughts swirling through his mind. He felt like a yo-yo spinning up and down, out of control. The coach likes you and you play; the GM hates you and you walk. Was hockey nothing more than that — who you knew or just plain luck? He rubbed his stomach. The burger and the wing hadn’t been the best pregame meal. He’d have to work that off.

  “So, what happened?” Maddy said from behind.

  He turned around. His friends were all around him.

  Rocket sighed and held his hands up. “I’m back. Gold’s fired. Go figure.”

  The boys basically attacked him. Maddy and Megan gave him big hugs.

  “It was The Wing,” Kyle said finally. “The power of the sauce came through.”

  “I’m worried about the sauce coming through me,” Rocket said.

  “Uck,” Maddy said. “Disgusting boy-moment.”

  “Sorry — thought I was in the dressing room for a sec.”

  Kyle reached out his fist. “Awesome news, bro. It’ll be good to see you in the room. The boys will be stoked.”

  “Not all of them,” Rocket said pointedly.

  “The ones that count,” Kyle said.

  “So what did he say exactly,” Megan said, “and how did Gold get fired?”

  They crowded around as Rocket began to tell the story.

  CHAPTER 24

  Rocket’s nerves were on edge as he pulled his hockey bag into the arena.

  “Don’t forget, number 11 tends to give up the puck under pressure,” Devin said. “He’s their right defenceman. You could also exploit number 3. His foot speed could be better, and you can get the corner on him if he’s not positioned. But he likes to hit. He had 182 hits last year.”

  Devin had been pounding him with stats about the London Knights ever since they’d returned home to retrieve Rocket’s hockey equipment.

  “Just remember the right skate goes on the right foot,” Maddy said.

  “How does that help?” Rocket said. “How am I supposed to play with one skate?”

  “Ask your coach,” Maddy said.

  They stopped in the middle of the lobby.

  “I got to admit, I’m a little nervous all of a sudden,” Rocket said. He flexed his fingers. “I have this hand that’s bugging me, I’m still short, and …”

  Megan ripped his hockey sticks from his hand. “I didn’t come all the way to Axton to hear you doubt yourself. I came because this is important to you and you can do it. You’ve excelled at every level, and you’re good. You have to believe in yourself. Put all your doubts aside and go for it. I don’t care what the odds are. It’s not about the odds. It’s about digging deep, and …”

  Rocket and Maddy stared at each other in disbelief, and then they burst out laughing.

  “What? I’m trying to inspire you,” Megan said. She began to laugh as well.

  “You did,” he said. He gave her a hug. “Thanks. You’re right. Forget the odds. Forget this hand. Forget Cash. Forget everything. Just play hockey.” He took his sticks back.

  “Now I’m inspired,” Bird said. “Where’s the concession stand? I need a ten-year-old hotdog.”

  “I smell something disgusting over there,” André said. “Follow me.”

  André led Bird, Devin and Nigel around the corner.

  “I have a weakness for chocolate-covered raisins,” Megan said. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Rocket looked at Maddy warily. “You’re not eating? Is the world coming to an end?” he said.

  “I wanted to talk to you, when the others weren’t around.” She twisted her hair with her fingers.

  “So, what’s the deal, sis?”

  She jabbed her finger into his chest.

  “You need to stop thinking you have to take care of me and your mom. We aren’t your responsibility. You’re not a loser if you don’t make this team. You’re not a loser if you don’t make the NHL. Go for it. You might do it. But you can’t be so hard on yourself. Your mom and I don’t worry about you making the Axmen. We worry about you putting so much pressure on yourself. And we worry that if you don’t make it, you’ll spend the rest of your life bitter about it.”

  Rocket put a hand on her shoulder. “But I have to make it. Mom’s spent a fortune on my hockey, money she didn’t really have, and how can she pay for you to go to university? You’ll spend your life paying back student loans. And she deserves better than that crummy apartment. If I make it, we can finally get out of there, and I can pay for your school and … It solves everything.”

  Maddy poked him in the chest again. “Well, surprise, we are out of that crummy apartment. Or we will be soon. Your mom found a place. It’s not great; it’s in a basement. But it has three bedrooms and it’s fairly big. It’s close to school, so it’s in a nice neighbourhood and I won’t need to take the bus anymore.”

  Rocket couldn’t contain his smile. “Really? Goodbye Mr. Connor and Mr. Raja?”

  “I’m going to miss those two lugs,” she joked. But she quickly turned serious again. “I’ll figure university out and get on with things. I’m not giving up — ever — and neither are you. Promise me that. And promise me you’ll stop trying to save me from some terrible fate.”

  “But Maddy—”

  “What I can’t deal with is you thinking I made your life harder. I can’t,” she said. “I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for you and your mom — living on the streets maybe.”

  “Never!”

  “No mom or dad? No one who really cares about me? I’d even thought about it before you guys took me in.”

  “We’re a family now, the three of us,” Rocket said. “That’s the way it is. Families take care of each other. I’m going to take care of you guys by playing hockey. That’s my best shot. It makes sense.”

  “It makes sense if you play because you can and you want to, not because you have to,” she said. “If you feel like there’s some huge weight on your shoulders, it’ll crush you eventually. Let it go. We’ll be okay no matter what.”

  He thought about that boulder. He’d love to push it off, but he wasn’t sure he could. He needed to think about it some more. The boulder would stay for now.

  “Thanks for coming up, sis,” he said.

  “Thanks for dedicating your first goal to me,” Maddy said.

  “That’s a deal.”

  “And you have to dedicate your second to Megan,” she said.

  “Um … okay.”

  “Because she’s a good friend of yours, and it would make her very happy.”

  “Okay. Two goals. Got it. Anything else?”

  “You could compliment her on her new hairstyle and clothes, too,” she said. “Don’t be so oblivious.”

  “Oblivious to what?”

  Maddy raised her eyes to the ceiling. “That you guys have a connection. That she likes you. And it has nothing to do with trivia.”

  He had noticed, of course. But with so much going on in his life, and him moving to Axton to play, he’d decided to let it go. Megan and he were just friends. At least for now.

  “Thanks for the advice,” he said. “Say hi to André for me.”

  “Just don’t trip over the blue line,” she shot back as he headed toward the dressing room.

  He pushed the door open.

  “Yo, Bourquey, can you toss me some tape?” Rainer said.

  Bourque threw over a roll of white sock tape.

  “These boys are going to be stomping mad after we beat them in their own rink,” Fryer said.

  “Doesn’t matter that this is an exhibition game,” Bossy said. “We play this one hard.”

  Rocket put his sticks in the rack and walked further into the room.

  “Thanks, Mr. Bourque. You’re a gentleman and a scholar,” Rainer said, tossing the tape back.

  “Toss it here,” Big Z said.
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  “Can I tape my own shin pads first?” Bourque grinned.

  Rocket stood by the door, bewildered. No one even noticed he was there.

  Then the corners of Bossy’s mouth turned up just slightly. He put his head down. He was laughing.

  “Okay. I fell for it. Proud of yourselves?” Rocket said.

  The room erupted in cheers.

  “Good to see you back,” Bourque said. He clapped Rocket on the shoulder.

  Bossy pulled Rocket’s bag over to where he and Fryer were sitting. “Got to keep the line together,” he said.

  Big Z nodded and said, “Hey.” It was a long speech from the quiet defenceman, but it meant a lot.

  To his right, Rocket saw Cash, Hoffer and Gruny huddled in the corner, talking in whispers.

  Rocket reached for the zipper of his hockey bag, then stopped. He needed to do something, for the team, to set things straight. If it worked, awesome. If not, then he’d done what he could.

  He went over to Cash and his friends.

  “Guys, we haven’t exactly gotten along. No point blaming anyone. Training camp is like that.”

  The three boys stared up at him.

  “I’m sorry for shoving you this morning, Cash. I lost my temper. Teammates shouldn’t do that. That’s not the way I play, and that’s not the kind of teammate I want to be.”

  Rocket stepped back and waited.

  “Yeah, well, forget about it,” Cash said quietly. “It’s over. I deserved some of it, too. Sorry for taking that swing at you — and for the bus …” His voice trailed off.

  Rocket had heard better apologies, but he figured that was big for Cash. As for Hoffer and Gruny, maybe they’d take longer to come around. Maybe they never would. So what? He was here to win games, not friends.

  “Cool. Let’s kick those Knights back to London,” Rocket said.

  He sat back down and unzipped his bag.

  Big Z gave him another approving nod. Rainer flashed a thumbs-up. Rocket knew he’d done the right thing. He didn’t like those three, but they were good players and they’d help them win — and they were Axmen.

  Kyle walked into the room, and a big grin spread across his face.

  “Something smells different,” he said, sniffing the air.

  “Are you saying I’ve got to clean my equipment?” Rocket asked.

  Kyle came over and bumped fists with him.

  “You should definitely do that. But I meant I can’t smell any gold around here,” Kyle said.

  “Does gold smell?” Rainer said.

  “Sometimes,” Kyle said, and the room erupted in laughter. “Did the Knights even bother coming? They obviously have no chance,” he continued.

  “I like the confidence,” Bourque said. “I bet they ice all their starters this time. It’ll be a different team. We’re going to have to battle.”

  “We got to shut down that Tyler Hopkins kid,” Rainer said. “He killed us last game.”

  “That’s the guy you know, right?” Bourque said to Rocket.

  “You can’t shut him down,” Rocket said. “You’ve got to be on him when he doesn’t have the puck. You can’t give him any room. Otherwise, he’ll start dipsy-doodling you to death and dish the puck around. You’ve got to play him straight up and hard.”

  “Hey, Cash. You hearing this?” Rainer said. “You have the size and speed to match up against that guy. You can do it. You up for it?”

  Cash raised his gaze. He didn’t look like the same guy to Rocket. The cocky grin was gone. Now he looked like any other sixteen-year-old kid trying to make it in the OHL.

  “I’m ready. That dude ain’t gonna touch the puck today,” Cash said.

  “Let’s get ready, boys,” Bourque said. “We want a good pregame skate, no messing around.”

  The room got quiet, apart from the sound of hockey tape whirling around sticks and shin pads.

  Bossy elbowed Rocket. He leaned closer.

  “Rumour has it Alvo went at Cash and his linemates for an hour,” Bossy said in a hushed tone. “Bourque heard him. Alvo said he’d stick their butts to the bench for the rest of the season if they didn’t change their attitudes. Then he said they’d have to earn back their ice time. They’re on the fourth line until they prove themselves.”

  “Really? Well, Bourquey’s line can step it up,” Rocket said. “No problem.”

  Bossy’s eyes twinkled. “Coach said he wants us to be the first line — an experiment.”

  Rocket taped up his shin pads. “Then we’ve got to go for it every shift. I don’t know about you guys, but after what happened today, I’m not taking anything for granted. I can’t. I got a lot riding on this.” He thought about what Maddy had said, but that boulder was right where it had always been. He needed to make it.

  “I’ve been thinking of a play,” Rocket said to Bossy and Fryer. “It’s not in the binder. It’s a variation for the power play. Imagine the puck is in the right corner. Fryer brings it up the boards to the hash marks …”

  He held out his hand to draw the play for them. His linemates leaned in close to see.

  CHAPTER 25

  The puck ringed the side wall. The Knights’ right defenceman stretched for it. Rocket was a hair faster, knifing it out of the Axmen’s zone off the boards. He avoided the defender’s hip check and kept skating, veering into the middle of the ice.

  “On it,” Bossy yelled. He swooped in to corral the rolling puck. Then he and Rocket stormed in on the Knights’ left defenceman on a two-on-one. The Axton fans were on their feet, screaming for a goal to break the third-period tie. The few London fans were rooting equally hard for the Knights to block it.

  Bossy skated down the left side, the defenceman watching warily. The goalie had come out a good three metres from his line. Bossy faked a pass, took another stride and then fed Rocket on the right. The defender hesitated ever so slightly. Rocket didn’t hesitate at all. He powered to the net on the right side. The defenceman pivoted on his left foot and extended his stick. The goalie slid over, squared for the shot. Rocket flew past the defender’s stick, puck on his backhand. He lowered his shoulder as if to shoot, and the goalie dropped into his butterfly. Rocket immediately carved wildly on his inside edges, pulling the puck wide right. The goalie fell back and reached out with his glove hand. Rocket felt his balance go. At the last second, he backhanded the puck into the crease.

  Rocket’s feet went out from under him. He braced himself for the impact.

  “Ooof.”

  The crowd roared. Rocket looked up. The puck was buried in the back of the net, and Bossy was holding his stick above his head.

  Rocket turned his attention to himself. He prayed he hadn’t wrecked anything.

  “The Rocket comes through again,” Fryer said from behind. He pulled Rocket to his feet.

  Rocket would have preferred to remain on the ice until he was sure he was okay. But this worked. Nothing damaged. Even more important, it was 3–2 for the Axmen.

  Bossy threw his arms across their shoulders.

  “Ax-Attack, boys. Let’s get greedy,” Bossy said gleefully.

  They broke up their huddle.

  “Nice breakout,” Rainer said, patting Bossy and Rocket on the helmet.

  Big Z gave them all a healthy smack on the pads.

  Rocket rested his stick across his knees. The boys on the bench were on their feet, but no one was coming on. Rocket followed Bossy and Fryer and slapped everyone’s gloves.

  “One more, Axmen,” Kyle said. “Let’s not get lazy.”

  Kyle had taken a regular shift on Bourque’s line, and he’d been playing a great two-way game. Rocket could sense the other guys were treating him differently now — with respect.

  Rocket glided to the dot, hunched over, head down. A chant of Go Axmen Go! swept the arena. Ty came out with his line.

  Rocket had expected Alvo to bring Cash’s line out — Cash had been going up against Ty most of the time and had done a good job. Ty’s line had had its chances but ha
dn’t connected yet. Alvo obviously wanted to see how Rocket’s line would match up.

  “Stop showing me up,” Ty said to him. “Coach just told me to play more like you.”

  “You can’t play like me. You suck too much. I’d probably quit hockey if I were you,” Rocket said.

  “I’ll give myself one more shift, and then maybe,” Ty said.

  Rocket tapped Ty’s shin pads with his stick. He didn’t care what people thought. Once the puck dropped friendship was forgotten, and they’d tear into each other. But for now, the puck was in the referee’s hands, and Rocket wanted to show Ty some respect. They’d been friends since they were nine.

  The organ began to play and the fans clapped to the beat. The referee lowered his hand. Rocket and Ty had spent hours in Ty’s basement practising draws. They knew each other’s moves by heart. No point trying anything fancy. Rocket straightened up.

  “Let’s go, Axmen,” he said loudly.

  That was the signal. Bossy inched forward.

  The referee blew his whistle and held the puck out.

  Rocket and Ty put their sticks down. Rocket tensed his muscles. This was going to hurt his hand. The puck dropped. Ty tried to pull the puck back with a reverse-hand sweep. Rocket thrust his stick forward to block him. The impact sent a shockwave up the stick into his hand. He ignored the pain and held firm, swinging his left hip into Ty.

  Bossy cut over, dug the puck from their skates and slid it back to Rainer.

  “If you’re going to cheat …” Ty said, giving Rocket a bit of a cross-check on the arm. Not hard, just enough to say it was time to play.

  Rocket grinned and did a loop to the right to gain momentum. Rainer hit him in mid-stride. The Knights’ left winger charged. Rocket shovelled a pass to Fryer and then swerved wider to avoid the check. The winger got a piece of him, but not enough to hold him up. Bossy had angled into the middle of the neutral zone, and he accepted a pass from Fryer. Ty showed why he was so good. He’d anticipated the play and got a stick on it, deflecting the puck to his left defenceman. The puck rifled across the ice to the right defenceman, and then up to the winger.

  Big Z was a rock on defence. No way the winger could beat him one-on-one. Instead of pressuring the winger, Rocket hustled to get back to the corner for what he figured would be a dump-in. The winger seemed to accept that as well, and once he got close to the blue line, he lofted the puck into the corner. Big Z had to let him go or he’d get an interference penalty. Rocket had a step on the winger, however. The puck rested a few metres from the net, up against the boards. Glassy wasn’t able to play it. It was up to Rocket.