Rocket Blues

by David Skuy

  “I have to be honest,” André said, as they shuffled to the door. “I’m getting tired of being on a joke team. Last year was brutal.” He pushed the door open.

  “Why didn’t you try out for another team, or move up? You could totally play AAA.”

  André made a sour face. “Can’t bail on my buds. Besides, we got talent this year.” He tapped Rocket’s shin pads.

  Rocket knew André meant him, but he pretended not to understand. “There are lots of guys who can play. We’ll get better with more effort.”

  André held his stick out to stop him. “I forgot to ask. Some of the guys were wondering if you go by Bryan, or … do you like Rocket better?”

  Rocket shifted uneasily on his skates. “I don’t know. Whatever. The guy on the Huskies I told you about, Adam, he gave me the nickname.”

  André grinned. “I think you’re more of a Rocket kind of guy than a Bryan. I mean, what’s a Bryan?”

  Rocket had to laugh at the way he said it. “The Y is kind of lame, isn’t it?”

  Together they went to the door leading to the ice. Again, André held out his stick to stop him. “You ready for this?” he said.

  Strange how connected Rocket felt to the Blues, and he’d only played with them for two weeks. Three years with the Huskies and it felt like a hundred years ago, as if it hadn’t even happened.

  “Bring it — for three periods,” Rocket said.

  He was so pumped, he felt like he could have jumped over the boards.

  They punched gloves and Rocket stepped onto the ice. The next instant he was churning across the blue line. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Huskies’ familiar white and gold visitor jerseys — and then Ty went by. Suddenly, he felt unsettled. It was easy to say “bring it,” but not so easy to actually play the best AAA team in the city. As he cut behind the net, he looked up ice. Ty and Adam were standing together at their blueline looking his way. They were obviously trying to catch his eye.

  If the Blues were going to keep this close, they’d have to be on those two like glue, and if that was going to happen, he’d have to be the one to do it. This was no time to make friends. That could wait for after the game. He kept his head down and continued around the wall, holding his stick over his shoulders and swinging it from side to side to loosen up his back.

  CHAPTER 28

  Rocket readied himself for the drop of the puck. Ty and Adam were on the wings, with a kid named Luke at centre — Rocket’s replacement. This was one faceoff he wanted to win.

  “Hey, number eighteen. Ready to bring it?”

  That was Ty.

  Rocket laughed and tapped the ice with his stick. “No other way to play,” he said.

  “Good luck,” Ty said.

  “You, too,” Rocket said. He nodded at Adam, and he nodded back. The referee blew his whistle and waved to both goalies, then held the puck over the dot. Rocket drifted closer, his eyes fixed on the ref’s hand.

  “Go, Huskies, go!” the parents behind the Huskies bench chanted.

  Luke committed first, but a bit early. His timing was off, and Rocket was able to slap the puck to André. Then Rocket shifted to his right to box Luke out. André gave it to Reid, who moved forward a step and shot it off the boards toward Blake. The left-winger took the pass in stride and, after crossing the red line, fired it deep into Huskies territory. Noah powered in to forecheck.

  Luke and Rocket skated along in tandem. Rocket considered veering off to create some space, but then he noticed Ty curl up high near the Huskies blue line to his left. The right defenceman was camped out down low in the corner. The left defenceman had the puck on the other side, with Noah pressuring. Rocket put on the brakes. He recognized the play. The left defence would wait until Noah got close, then he’d pass to his partner, and Ty would go up the middle for a breakaway pass. It was high risk, and you’d only do it this early in the game if you weren’t very worried about giving up a turnover in your own end.

  Rocket let himself smile as he darted to his left to cover Ty. This was good — the Huskies were playing it loose.

  “Not fair,” Ty said to him. “You know our plays.”

  “Have to make you work for it,” Rocket said.

  The left defence sent it to the right defence in the corner. Rocket stayed on Ty, and Blake pushed past to forecheck. That left the middle wide open for Luke. The defenceman sent a crisp pass onto his stick, the centre spun and motored up ice, and just like that, the puck cleared the zone. Rocket didn’t mind, though.

  Luke was tall and had a long reach, but his stride was a bit choppy, as if he were off balance all the time. Not a bad player, he just wasn’t Ty or Adam.

  Ragging the puck over the red line, Luke lofted a dump into André’s corner. Adam steamed over the blue line. André got to it first and headed behind the net, Adam in close pursuit. As André passed the net, he backhanded the puck backward off the wall to a wide-open Reid. Rocket thrilled at seeing such a great play from his captain — it set the tone.

  Suddenly, he felt a presence on his shoulder. He knew who it was. He would shadow Ty, but Ty would shadow him: a game of cat and mouse.

  Without warning, Rocket cut to the left boards and then up ice, forcing Ty to work to keep up. Reid lugged the puck to the slot and then gave Noah a nice feed. Noah got over the red line and dumped it in. Again, Rocket stayed a step away from Ty, with Noah close to Adam’s side. The defenceman gave the puck to Luke, and he skated it out. After that, the puck rattled in and out of the neutral zone, both teams scuffling for possession, until Luke got hold of a loose puck and sent it deep into the Blues zone. Ty headed off; Rocket figured he should do the same.

  “That’s a perfect shift,” Rocket said to his linemates, patting them on the helmets. “It’s all about six and twelve. Keep the puck off their sticks, and this will be interesting.” He sat next to Blake. “You played great. I have a feeling Ty, he’s number six, is going to be covering me all game, which means you should have more room to motor.” He tapped Noah on the back. “Remember that one of us has to watch Adam; he’s number twelve. He’s got a huge shot, so if the puck lands on his blade, rush at him.”

  “Take it to them, Big Blue,” André said. He clambered over the boards to the bench. Andrew jumped out to take his place. “These guys aren’t so hot.”

  The boys were fired up, and Rocket fed off their energy for the rest of the period. Ty got the puck a few times, but Rocket or a teammate were usually there to stop him. Rocket knew the Huskies weren’t exactly killing themselves, but the score was still 0–0 when the first period ended. He would never have believed it.

  The Blues crowded around their bench as the buzzer sounded. “The second period will be huge,” Rocket said, banging his stick on the ice. “They’re going to start getting irritated by not scoring. Everyone’s playing great, awesome. Let’s get the energy level even higher.”

  “No penalties, either,” André said. “We can’t give them the man advantage.”

  “More pressure on their D,” Blake said. “We’re giving them way too much time. Let’s hunt that puck down.”

  Rocket had expected Blake to make a joke. Obviously, Rocket wasn’t the only guy who was into the game.

  “We’re beginning to get predictable in our zone,” Coach Sonia added. “D, you can start to skate it out yourselves up the middle, especially on Bryan’s shift when they’re focused on him. Centres, you could try hanging up high if the D has room to manoeuvre, then cut wide to give them a target.”

  Rocket looked up at the scoreboard and caught himself actually thinking about winning this game. He knew that was crazy, but it was nice to think about, even for a moment. He looked behind the bench into the stands. His mom was talking to another woman, no doubt trying to work out a lift for him. She always seemed to be doing something for him — Maddy, too.

  Maybe he was luckier than he’d thought.

  CHAPTER 29

  Rocket swept past Adam and Noah, poking the puck free of thei
r skates. With a joy born of being free of his shadow, he curled sharply about a metre above the Blues blue line and began striding up ice.

  Midway through the third period, still tied at zero, this felt like the first time he’d had some open ice. They’d been covering him pretty close, and he’d been focused on keeping tabs on Ty and Adam. The Huskies defence slowed at the red line, both looking right at him. Rocket saw Blake roaring up the left side. The defence didn’t seem to care much about him. Rocket knew what he needed to do. He cut to his right to draw the defence that way, and then he rifled a saucer pass to Blake. His winger took the pass without losing a stride, just a metre from the blue line. The defence was caught off guard. Blake made the corner and took it hard to the net — until the ref whistled the play dead!

  Rocket threw his head back and let his arms dangle by his sides. He used to have a problem with losing his temper with the refs; he’d gotten penalties for it, too. Coach Neilson had drilled that out of him, so now he contented himself with a questioning look, then headed to the faceoff dot.

  Blake had other ideas.

  “Are you blind? Brutal call,” Blake yelled. He slapped the ice with his stick and it bounced in the air. “I was way onside.”

  “Line it up,” the ref growled.

  “Line up your eyes!” Blake thundered.

  Rocket stepped in front of him. “Forget it. Dumb call. No big deal.”

  “Total fix is in,” Blake spat. “Can’t let the AAA team lose, can we?”

  The ref made a T with his hands, pointed at Blake and skated to the penalty box. Seconds later, two minutes appeared under Home on the scoreboard. The blood drained from Blake’s face.

  “What the …?” he sputtered.

  “Unsportsmanlike conduct,” Rocket said quietly. “Don’t say another word or he’ll give you a misconduct, and we’ll really be messed.”

  “I was onside,” Blake said.

  “I know. Stupid call.” He tapped Blake’s shin pads. “We’ll kill it. No sweat.”

  Blake skated slowly off the ice. Rocket felt bad for him; he’d been playing so intense, which was probably why blew up. Not the best time, though. He glanced at the coach. She stood with her arms crossed. He was going to have a chance at killing the penalty, at least. Noah came over.

  “Any ideas?” he said.

  “We have to be aggressive on the puck. Pressure the D and they’ll cough it up,” Rocket said. “We absolutely can’t let them start passing it around. Watch for Adam at the top of the circle for the slapper. He’s got a deadly shot.”

  “Got it,” Noah said. “Let’s get this done.”

  Rocket won the draw to André, who killed a few more seconds holding onto the puck before lofting it off the wall and down the ice. Rocket was closest, so he took up in the slot, watching the defenceman set up behind the net. He glanced over his shoulder. Ty was trolling in the neutral zone. Luke was coming back to help with the breakout. Adam hovered on the left side, watched warily by Noah. Luke took the puck and circled the net stick side. Rocket began to backpedal, not wanting to get caught by a quick pass, when he heard a loud whistle.

  That was no referee. That was Ty. Rocket’s mind raced. He’d probably snuck behind the Blues defence. Worst-case scenario. No time to sound a warning — Ty was deadly on a breakaway. As the puck left Luke’s stick, Rocket sprang to his left and reached out his glove.

  A shot of pain raced up his arm.

  The puck had hit him right in the palm. That was the bad news. The good news was that he had the puck on his stick, only eight metres separating him and the goalie.

  “Stupid,” Luke yelled.

  The spectators roared and they rose to their feet. Rocket barely heard anything. He took off to the net, the puck on his backhand. At the hash marks, he transferred the puck to his forehand, stutter-stepped, hesitated another half-step and then fired. The defenceman slammed into him and he fell.

  The crowd roared even louder. The goalie dug the puck out of his net. Rocket got to his knees and then slowly to his feet. Behind the Blues bench, the parents sat in stunned silence, mostly with their mouths open. Rocket didn’t raise his stick or do his usual hops. He didn’t want to give the Huskies a reason to get mad. Hopefully, they wouldn’t care about a measly little goal and would continue at half-speed. Besides, it was a total gift goal.

  Suddenly, the Blues parents erupted in a frenzy of cheering and clapping, exchanging high-fives and hugging each other. The boys on the bench pounded the boards and high-fived each other. Noah threw his arms around Rocket’s neck.

  “Huge goal, bro. Awesome. Wicked shot,” he cried. “Wrister under the crossbar. The goalie didn’t even move.”

  André and Reid put their arms around the two of them. Rocket was still worried about showing the Huskies up. “Just a goal, guys, and we got a penalty to kill,” Rocket said. “No big deal.”

  They ignored him, and kept celebrating by punching gloves and tapping each other’s helmets. The Blues parents were chanting, “Go Big Blue! Go Big Blue!”

  The ref blew his whistle and held the puck over his head at centre. The Huskies had already lined up, and Rocket could see none of them looked too happy. So much for not waking them up.

  Seven minutes left — a lifetime against a team like the Huskies.

  Ty was at centre. Jerrett had taken his spot on right wing. Luke was on the bench talking to Barker. The Huskies coach was waving his hands in the air and pointing at the ice. Rocket couldn’t hear him, but he could only imagine the grief Luke was getting.

  Ty put his stick down, and Rocket did, too. The ref held the puck over the dot.

  Seven minutes for a miracle!

  CHAPTER 30

  Though they’d been around the same height in grade four, Ty towered over Rocket now. Rocket looked like his little brother.

  The puck fell. Rocket crossed sticks to prevent Ty from getting the puck and reached for it with his skate. It would’ve worked perfectly, except the puck bounced up and he missed it. Ty began to push hard, and Rocket felt himself give way. But he had a trick up his sleeve. He spun backward into Ty’s chest and his hip banged into Ty’s leg, shielding the puck.

  André had crept forward and managed to reach in and pull the puck out of the fray. Two steps to his right, he found an opening and fired the puck the length of the ice. It bounced at the hash marks and the goalie had to be sharp. Only a last-second pad save stopped another goal. The Huskies parents let out a collective sigh of relief.

  This time the defenceman brought the puck out from behind the net and hit Adam on the left boards with a crisp pass. Adam one-timed it to Ty, who was breaking up the side, but Rocket had stayed with him and he was forced to drop it back to Adam. Then Adam rifled it cross ice to Jerrett, who gave it back to his defenceman. A quick move allowed the defenceman to elude Noah’s poke check and cross the red line at pace. He blasted it in deep. The puck circled the wall until Ty trapped it with his skates against the side wall. Rocket stepped into him and the puck dribbled free. Unfortunately, Adam got his stick on it first and sent it smartly around the back wall to the right point. It was a beautiful play, and Rocket groaned as he raced to the high slot to take his spot in the box.

  “Set it up, Huskies!” a parent yelled.

  “Lots of time! Don’t panic!”

  “Around the horn and in!”

  Rocket drifted back a bit. He didn’t like Ty setting up in the slot.

  “I got him,” André barked. “Watch the point.”

  Good advice. The right defenceman passed across to his partner, who immediately wound up. Rocket, angry at himself for leaving the guy wide open, threw his body to the ice to block the shot.

  “That’ll leave a bruise,” he said to himself. The puck had nailed him on the side of the leg. No time to lie around, however, and he forced himself back up. Jerrett had the puck down low at the hash marks to Dominic’s left.

  “Get the puck on net. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Barker shrieked f
rom the bench.

  The Huskies left defenceman suddenly charged to the net. Rocket fought to keep him to the outside, and he managed to get his stick in front of him. Ty was fighting for position in front of Dominic. A flash of white and gold whizzed by. Rocket spun back to the point. Adam had the puck on his stick. How’d he forget about that play? Stupid. He was furious at himself for getting fooled so easily.

  Adam raised his stick. Rocket gritted his teeth and once more threw himself on the ice, his legs extended.

  The puck hit him just above the knee. His entire leg turned red hot, as if someone had jabbed him with a burning needle. He ignored the searing pain. The puck was within reach. He stretched his stick out and brought it toward his body, hopping to his knees.

  Adam came over and shoved his stick under Rocket’s shin pads, trying to knock the puck lose. Rocket forced himself to his feet, his leg still throbbing where he’d blocked the shot. Trying not to limp, Rocket corralled the puck and carried it to his left, Adam harassing him from behind.

  Rocket lowered his left hand to get leverage for a backhander out of their zone, but Adam threw himself against the boards to prevent the clearance. Rocket was forced to carry it deeper into the corner; hopefully he could ring it around to Noah on the point. But then he realized Noah wasn’t close enough to the boards. The puck would go to the Huskies defenceman.

  He saw Ty leave his spot in front of the net and curl around to forecheck him. Rocket felt helpless. It was the worst spot to be in on a penalty kill: the puck deep in the corner and no way for him to clear it. But he had to do something with Ty barrelling toward him.

  He heard a gasp from the crowd.

  “Careful,” André shouted.

  Too late for that, Rocket thought. He slid the puck between Ty’s skates, only a stick length from the net. Then he swerved left, just in front of Dominic, to avoid Jerrett’s attempted check. He wobbled on his edges, almost falling, but he finally regained his balance at the hash marks. Legs aching and his lungs screaming in pain, he needed a change.