Penalty Shot

by Matt Christopher

  Copyright

  Copyright © 1997 by Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  www.twitter.com/littlebrown

  First eBook Edition: December 2009

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Matt Christopher® is a registered trademark of Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-09418-4

  To Brad, Mame, Tyler, and Jeremy

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  The #1 Sports Series for Kids: MATT CHRISTOPHER®

  Matt Christopher®

  1

  Oof!

  He recovers from a block by a burly defenseman.

  He’s in the clear.

  The puck is coming his way.

  He positions his hockey stick and traps it.

  Slap. Tap. Tap.

  He lines it up.

  For a split second, there’s a clearing between him and the goal.

  The goalie reaches high.

  He shoots low.

  Smack!

  The puck careens across the ice.

  It shoots by the goalie and hits the back of the cage.

  Goal!

  Jeff Connors raised his arms in victory. His breath came out in a fog in the crisp winter air. It was his second imaginary goal so far and he wasn’t even halfway to the rink. If he could do as well when he actually got on the ice, he’d be a shoo-in to make the hockey team.

  He’d made the team the year before, no problem. It hadn’t been his playing ability that had kept him out of uniform. No, everyone, even the coach, had been sorry he’d been sidelined.

  Jeff was willing to take some of the blame for what had happened. But he hadn’t had much sympathy from the one person who could have kept him on the ice. And how was he supposed to feel about that?

  Just thinking about Mr. Pearson made him angry all over again. Even now he could hear the tired tone in his English teacher’s voice. “Well, Mr. Connors,” he had said, “it seems you chose not to heed my last warning. I told you the consequences would be grave if you didn’t. Much as I hated to do it, I fear you left me with no choice but to send a full report of your current grades to your coach.”

  Jeff still felt as though he’d swallowed a lump of hot coal when he remembered the conversation he’d had with his coach later that day.

  “Mr. Pearson tells me you knew your grades were slipping,” Coach Wallace had said, shaking his head, “but that you didn’t do anything about it. At least, not that he could see. Well, rules are rules. And the number one rule of this school’s sports program is that if your grades fall behind, then you’re off the team. I’m sorry, Jeff, but you’ll have to turn in your uniform.”

  So that afternoon, while all his teammates were lacing up their skates and joking around in the locker room, Jeff had quietly emptied his locker. He had pretended not to notice how the room fell silent as one by one his friends realized what he was doing. The one-mile walk home that day had felt like twenty.

  Jeff shook his head. That was then and this is now, he thought. Mom, Dad, and the coach are willing to give me another chance. And I’m doing okay this year.

  He tried not to think about the English composition he’d put off writing yesterday. Or the spelling and reading comprehension test he’d taken two days before. If he didn’t do well on them…

  2

  Jeff put all thoughts of tests and compositions out of his head. Instead, he continued his make-believe game. As he bobbed and weaved down the street, stick in ready position and his gear bag balanced over his shoulder, he was in a world of his own.

  The puck curled around the boards behind the net and slid free of the tangle of players nearby. It was getting closer. He just had to dodge this one defenseman and it was his. With a quick lateral move and a jab of his stick —

  “Grrrrrrr…”

  The sound of a deep, low growl brought Jeff back to reality. He wasn’t on the ice facing a defenseman. He was on the sidewalk of a tree-lined street, facing the biggest, meanest-looking dog he’d ever seen!

  Jeff sprang back. The dog eyed him, baring its fangs, but didn’t move.

  As a five-year-old, Jeff had been bitten by a dog. He’d been nervous around dogs ever since. He usually avoided them so that people wouldn’t notice. That way, he didn’t have to explain anything to anyone.

  Jeff hiked up his duffel bag and was about to move away when he heard a familiar voice call his name.

  “Hey, Jeff, you’re not going to leave without me, are you?”

  It was his friend Kevin Leach. Jeff realized he was standing right in front of the Leaches’ house.

  Kevin hurried out the front door, stick in hand. At the same time, the dog spun around and charged. Jeff watched in horror as it jumped up at Kevin’s face. He was powerless to do anything to help his friend!

  To his amazement, Kevin broke out laughing and shoved the dog aside.

  “So I see you’ve met Ranger,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ranger, this is Jeff. Jeff’s my oldest buddy, so I want you two to get on real well, okay, boy?”

  As if he understood, Ranger turned his massive head toward Jeff. Jeff took a step back.

  “When did you get a dog?” he asked.

  “My dad surprised me last night,” said Kevin. “Some guy at his office moved and couldn’t take Ranger with him, so Dad brought him home. As soon as Ranger saw me, he came right over and started licking my hand. That did it.”

  “I’ll bet,” Jeff said uneasily. He couldn’t imagine anyone liking a dog licking their hand. To have those teeth so close…

  “Luckily, Mom likes him, too. I’ll feed him and walk him before school, but she’s going to take him for walks during the day and when I’m at hockey practice. If I make the team, that is.”

  “You’ll make it,” Jeff said, happy to change the subject. Although they were the same age, Kevin wasn’t built as sturdily as Jeff. In fact, there were times he looked downright skinny. But he was a good defenseman and he loved hockey almost as much as Jeff. “You just have to do as well as you did last year and you’ll be on the team again. Hopefully, I’ll be there with you.”

  “You’d be a shoo-in for right wing if you hadn’t been thrown off—” Kevin stopped abruptly. He shot Jeff an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Jeff’s ears burned. “Yeah, well, that was last year. I’m not going to get thrown off the team this year. So you’d better be ready to back me up on the ice again!” He punched Kevin in the shoulder.

  “Grrrrr…“

  Jeff jumped back. Kevin laid a hand on Ranger’s head and told the dog to shush
. Then he looked curiously at Jeff. “He’s a really relaxed dog, but he’s been taught to protect his owner. Sometimes he gets spooked by sudden movements. He doesn’t bite or anything. So you don’t have to be scared of him, Jeff.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t,” Jeff said.

  Kevin cocked an eyebrow at him. “Jeff, I know you don’t like dogs, remember? But Ranger is different. You’ll see that, once you get to know him.”

  Just then, Mrs. Leach opened the door. “You boys are going to be late if you don’t get going,” she called. “Ranger, come here!”

  As Ranger bounded inside, Jeff and Kevin gathered up their gear and headed off to the rink. Kevin talked on and on about how great it was to have a dog. Though Jeff barely listened to the words, he heard one thing loud and clear: if Kevin had his way, he and Ranger would be inseparable. And if Jeff couldn’t get over his fear, what would that do to their friendship?

  3

  Jeff pushed that thought out of his mind. He needed to get focused on what was ahead — the last day of hockey tryouts.

  “I’ll give you five-to-one odds,” he said to Kevin as they hurried toward the skating rink.

  “On what?”

  “On you making the team.”

  Kevin grinned. “Okay, but if I’m five to one, you must be two to one. Coach Wallace has had you in the starting string practically all week. You’re on the squad, no question.”

  “Don’t I wish. You know who’s a sure bet, don’t you?”

  The boys looked at each other and in the same breath said, “Bucky Ledbetter!”

  “Talk about skating,” Kevin added.

  “Yeah, he’s good, all right,” agreed Jeff. “I just wish he wouldn’t let everyone know it all the time.”

  Kevin shook his head. “He’s loud and cocky, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He’d be one tough enemy.”

  “Aw, he’s not so tough,” said Jeff. “I tell you, though, if he ever said to me the things he says to his brother, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “Hayes? Boy, there’s a guy who’s having a tough time on the ice!”

  Jeff nodded. “Bucky’s mouthing at him probably doesn’t help. It’s funny, I heard the coach say Hayes’d be a decent player if he’d just concentrate more. I bet that’s why he didn’t make the team last year.”

  They mounted the steps to the rink. As they headed for the locker room, Kevin said, “Guess all that really matters is that we get the chance to show the coach what a dynamic duo we are together. You at right wing with me right behind you. Right?”

  “Right!”

  The locker room was already crowded with boys lacing up their skates and pulling on their pads. Jeff and Kevin hurried to join them. In no time at all, they were on the ice.

  Coach Wallace blew his whistle.

  “Okay, guys, this is it,” the coach announced.

  “The last day of tryouts. I’m not going to bore you with the usual speech about how I wish I could put all of you on the team, even though that’s the truth.” A few of the boys muttered and others hung their heads. “What you should know, however, is that I’ve decided to try something new this year.” The same boys perked up again. “I’m going to keep two promising players on as alternates. They’ll practice with the team and come to the games, though they’ll only play if nobody else on the team can. This may sound like a lousy position to take. But consider how much stronger you’ll be next year, going into tryouts with a whole season of practices under your belt. And here’s something else to think about: if for any reason I feel there’s someone on the team who’s slacking off, I won’t hesitate to substitute one of the alternates in his place. Now get out there and warm up!”

  As Jeff took to the ice, he knew his face was beet red. A few guys glanced his way, then quickly dropped their eyes. Jeff was sure everyone there was thinking the same thing: this year, if he got kicked off the team, he wouldn’t be missed. Someone else would be more than happy to step in. And more than ready.

  4

  After ten minutes of warm-up, Coach Wallace whistled the players back in line. He had them count off as either “in” or “out,” then told the two groups to form circles at center ice.

  “Here’s the drill,” he said. “I’m going to start the puck toward one of you. I want you to stop it, then pass it on to someone else. Don’t skate after it. Just keep it moving. If you have to skate, if you miss the puck, or if you slip and fall, drop out and head for the sideline.”

  Coach Wallace gave a puck to the “out” group, then joined the “ins.” He dropped the puck in front of himself and shot it to Shep Fredrickson. Shep stopped it carefully. He glanced around the ring and eased a pass to Michael Gillis. It slid right up to Michael’s stick.

  This looks like a breeze, Jeff thought as he watched Michael pass to Bucky Ledbetter.

  Still, he remained alert, his stick in ready position.

  It was a good thing he did. Bucky flipped a fast but accurate pass to Chad Galbraith, but Chad was caught napping. Coach Wallace motioned to him to skate aside. Bucky retrieved the puck and fired a lightning-quick shot right at Jeff.

  Jeff reacted instantly. He stopped the puck with just enough give to keep it from bouncing back into the middle of the ring. He sent a controlled pass across to Hayes.

  After that, the competitive juices began to flow as each player tried to outsmart his opponents. One player after another had to leave the circle. Soon there were only four players left: Bucky Ledbetter, Shep Fredrickson, Michael Gillis, and Jeff.

  Bucky had just received a pass from Shep when Coach Wallace blew his whistle. Jeff glanced over at the coach, ready to learn about the next drill.

  Wham!

  Out of nowhere came a pass so hard and powerful it almost knocked the stick from his hands. As the puck skittered away, Jeff looked back to the circle in disbelief. Bucky was grinning at him.

  “Sure you’re ready for this, Connors?” Bucky asked snidely. “A season away from the squad seems to have dulled your reactions.”

  Jeff had opened his mouth to reply when the coach called for him to retrieve the puck. With a last backward glance, Jeff skated down the ice, scooped up the disk, and hurried back to hear what the coach was telling the other players.

  “Okay, same two groups,” he said. “Outs, you split in half again, eight to a goal. Choose six guys to rotate in as defensemen, one player at a time. The remaining two guys will take turns playing goalie. Got it?”

  The outs nodded and skated off.

  “Ins, form three lines at mid-ice at the right-wing, center, and left-wing spots. Half face one goal, half the other. Your job is to get by the defenseman and take a shot on goal if you can. Easy does it on the goalie, okay? I don’t want any injuries. After your run down the ice, skate back and get ready to attack the opposite goal. Got it?”

  The ins nodded and scrambled to form their lines. In less than a minute, the drill started.

  Jeff’s heart raced with excitement. Sometimes practice could be dull, but drills like this really gave players a chance to shine.

  His group was up first. Jeff was in the right-wing slot. When he saw that Bucky was in center, his enthusiasm flagged a bit. Then he shook his head, reminding himself that he and Bucky might be on the line together on the team. He had to start working well with him, just in case.

  Coach Wallace blew his whistle, signaling them to begin the drill. Bucky’s brother, Hayes, was at left wing. He took a pass from Bucky, then tried to shoot the puck across the ice to Jeff.

  It didn’t make it. Kevin skated in and stole it.

  Bucky groaned. “Good move, little brother, real good move! Why don’t you just pass it to the other team next time and save us all the trouble of trying to set up a play?”

  He skated to the sidelines in disgust. Jeff followed him.

  “Hey, Bucky, lighten up! We all send bad passes, you know,” he said.

  “Hayes can take the criticism. He knows I want him to get a fair cr
ack at a place on the team this year. Unlike last year, when he was beaten out by someone who couldn’t stick it out.” Bucky cast a sidelong glance at Jeff that spoke volumes.

  Jeff reddened. Darn that Bucky! He makes it sound as if I got kicked off the team on purpose!

  But he swallowed his anger and skated back in line. For the rest of the afternoon he concentrated on playing as hard as he could. As a result, he made few mistakes and left practice feeling that he had given it his best shot. Now it was up to the coach to decide if Jeff was worth giving a second chance. Jeff knew he’d have his answer in less than twenty-four hours. Coach Wallace would post the team roster for all to see sometime the next day.

  5

  Hi, Mom!” Jeff called out from the mud-room next to the kitchen. “Anybody home?”

  “Mom’s at the dentist,” came a voice from upstairs. “There’re some killer brownies she just made on the counter. Oh, yeah, and there’s a letter for you. She put it on your bed.”

  “Thanks, Candy,” he called back to his sister. Candy was a few years older than he was. Her life revolved around her friends in high school. Still, they had a warm relationship most of the time.

  As he hung up his coat and walked into the kitchen, he wondered about the letter. He had just taken a bite out of one of the brownies when he realized who it must be from. He raced up the stairs two at a time.

  There on his pillow lay a big envelope. The return address read “The National Hockey League,” along with a team name and address in red-and-blue letters. With a yelp, Jeff tore it open. A glossy black-and-white photo fell out. It was a picture of his favorite player, Eric Stone! Jeff had written to the team’s fan club more than a month ago. He had started to think his letter had been lost. But here was the photo, signed and everything!

  Jeff propped the picture up on his desk and was about to crumple up the envelope when a piece of paper fell out. He picked it up and stared at it, not believing what he saw. It was a letter, written to him by Eric Stone himself!