Rebel Power Play

by David Skuy

  “It is not!” Pudge thundered. “No one wants you to quit. We want Charlie Joyce to be Charlie Joyce — the guy we voted captain.” He pointed a glove at Charlie. “We have a playoff game tonight and you wanna quit! Act like the captain, and not some guy who feels sorry for himself — and is afraid to play snow soccer.”

  “That’s dumb.”

  “I don’t think so. What’s dumb is quitting on the team and your friends because of one game — one fight. Why do you care so much? It’s over. You’re the only one who doesn’t get it. I don’t know who’s acting like the bigger jerk, you or Jake.”

  With that, turned and left. Charlie watched without moving, still holding the snowball. He didn’t have a friend left in school. Everything he’d tried to do with the Rebels had been a waste.

  It was better back when he didn’t know anyone at school. He’d never felt so lonely since he’d arrived at Terrence Falls. He’d never fit in here — never.

  * * *

  Hours later, Charlie sat in the dressing room tying his skates, a knot in his stomach getting worse as game time approached. He’d changed his mind half a dozen times. He’d finally decided not to play — he could simply blame the concussion — but then his mom yelled that she was ready to go to the game, and his sister and grandparents were waiting in the van. That left him no choice, and so he came, dreading every minute.

  A slap on the shin pads interrupted his thoughts.

  “Is the Joyce-monster ready to roll?” Scott said.

  He felt scared more than ready. He nodded weakly.

  “This is your game, dude.” Scott whacked him on the pads again. “No one’s got your wheels. Get to the puck and go.”

  The praise embarrassed him. “Big game, for sure.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Their defence pinches,” Zachary said to Charlie from across the room. “I’ll be chippin’ the puck off the boards to you all game. You’ll get a ton of breakaways.”

  “We gotta get our power play going,” Pudge said. “It was awesome early in the season. Get the puck to Charlie and let him attack the zone. Me and Zachary will charge the net.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “First goal will be huge,” Matt interjected. He bounced his stick a few times on the floor. “You ready for this one, Char?”

  “I guess,” he said.

  He caught Matt exchanging a glance with Zachary. He grabbed his helmet and sat up. Only then did he notice that all his teammates were all looking at him. Had he forgotten something? He quickly checked his equipment. What was going on?

  “So, captain … what do you think … about the Hornets?” Pudge asked.

  All of a sudden it dawned on him that his teammates were trying to restore his confidence and get him stoked for the game. He looked at the serious faces around him. Even Scott was quiet. Most games the guys were laughing and joking — now, you could hear a pin drop. There was no question the boys wanted this game. Charlie tossed his helmet a few times. He realized that Pudge had been right. His teammates hadn’t quit on him — he’d quit on his teammates. He’d let Jake totally intimidate him; he’d let him destroy his confidence. The concussion had been a convenient excuse for being a wuss. Charlie thought about what his dad had always said to him after he’d had a bad game. “I don’t worry about you winning or losing; I just want to see you trying to help your team win.” The memory of his father made him feel ashamed. It was as if he’d let his dad down.

  Pudge had just called him captain — time to prove he deserved the C.

  “I don’t think anything about the Hornets,” he began. “This game isn’t about the Hornets. It’s about the Rebels. We’ve got enough talent to beat anyone when we play our game. We proved that in the regular season. Maybe we haven’t played too great lately — and that goes double for me. But that was then. The Hornets aren’t in our league — no chance.”

  No one spoke. They all kept looking at him. He had to keep going until Hilton came in.

  “I could think of a lot of reasons to get stoked for this game. It’s the playoffs. It’s sudden-death. We got up at five in the morning to practise in the middle of winter. We didn’t even have a coach until Christmas.”

  His teammates were all nodding. He was on the right track. He flipped his helmet around and sat up straight.

  “But that’s not why I want to win this game.”

  His gaze settled on Pudge.

  “So what’s the reason?” Pudge asked.

  “I want to shut Mike Dunn up for good, and his dad too.”

  That did it. Everyone began to talk at once.

  “We’ve got to win every battle along the walls,” said Christopher, taking Charlie by surprise. He rarely spoke in the dressing room.

  “Hard on every puck — every loose puck is ours.” Now Robert was getting into it.

  We’ll take these pretenders out by the end of the first,” Scott added.

  “Clear the front of the net for Martin and we got ourselves a shutout,” Nick said.

  “These dudes got nothin’. It’s our game all the way,” Zachary said.

  “We can outskate the Hornets backwards and forwards,” Jonathon added. “Fire on all cylinders, boys.”

  Charlie’s heart was pounding.

  The door opened and Hilton came in. He looked around and then smiled at Charlie.

  “You started this team — only you can keep it going. I assume whatever needed to be said has been said.”

  Charlie jumped to his feet. “Remember why we want to win this game, and there’s no way we can lose.”

  He led his teammates onto the ice.

  25

  MIKE PSYCH

  The Hornets’ right winger flipped the puck to the right corner. Charlie raced after it, with Mike Dunn a step behind.

  “Out of my way, Joyce!” Mike yelled.

  Charlie had to act fast. The puck lay against the boards. He extended his stick and drew the puck between his skates. Leaping to his right he did a three-sixty spin to avoid the collision.

  Boom!

  Mike crashed into the boards and fell to the ice. Charlie had no time to enjoy the sight as another Hornets forechecker bore down on him. Across the zone, Scott raised his stick and whistled. He was wide open. Charlie was about to pass when he heard a girl’s voice ring out from the crowd.

  “Go for it, Charlie!”

  That sounded like Julia. Whoever it was, he decided to follow the advice. Feinting to his left and then pivoting on his right foot, he pirouetted around the surprised forechecker. The roar of the crowd fired him up as he raced up ice. He felt his confidence soar as he picked up speed in the neutral zone.

  Zachary cut across the blue line from the right wing. Since his return from the concussion, Charlie had been passing in this situation, treating the puck like a hot potato. This time, he was determined to go for it himself. He faked the pass and let Zachary cut underneath, angling to the right. Five feet from the defenceman, he pretended to lose the puck in his skates. The defenceman fell for it and charged. Charlie instantly kicked the puck to his stick, dipped his left shoulder to the inside, and then popped to the outside.

  Zachary and Pudge poured into the Hornets’ zone. Three-on-one. The defenceman swung his stick frantically back and forth. Charlie carried the puck to the top of the circle. Zachary had slowed, his stick over his head, ready for the one-timer, while Pudge pushed on towards the net.

  Charlie bent his right knee and turned sideways, dragging the puck behind him as if to pass to Zachary. The defenceman dropped to one knee and swung his stick in a wide arc to block the pass. But Charlie had meanwhile pulled the puck across to his backhand and was able to slip past him.

  Charlie closed in on the goalie. Pudge had parked himself on the edge of the crease. Eight feet out, he swung his stick as if to backhand it to Pudge. The goalie threw his right pad down in anticipation. But the puck was still on Charlie’s stick. The goalie had the presence of mind to reach his left leg ou
t, almost doing the splits. Charlie swung the puck to this forehand and cut hard across the top of the crease. In one motion, he jammed the puck between the goalie’s legs before crashing headlong into Pudge.

  Charlie sprung back to his feet. He was so stoked he wanted to race back to centre for the faceoff. Pudge held out his glove and Charlie gave it a hard punch.

  “If I’d known you had it covered I would’ve saved my energy and watched,” Pudge said, grinning widely.

  “Your goal, bud,” Charlie said. He cuffed the back of Pudge’s helmet. “Goalie had to cover you and that left the five-hole open.”

  “You’re right,” Pudge laughed. “That was all me.”

  Zachary draped his arms across their shoulders. “First-goal fever. I want three more before the period ends.”

  Nick and Scott arrived next, and they pounded his helmet so many times he said, “Easy, boys. I’ve had enough concussions for one season.”

  They drifted back to their end. The Rebels supporters were on their feet, cheering wildly. He spotted Danielle swinging her cowbell and holding a bag of popcorn in her other hand. His mom and grandparents clapped along with the other parents. Further down in the stands some kids from school were going crazy. Julia, Alexandra and Rebecca were in the middle clapping as they chanted, “Re-bels! Re-bels! Re-bels!”

  Matt’s line remained seated on the bench, and Charlie hurried to the faceoff circle before his coach decided to change the lines. Mike was already set up.

  “Drop the puck, ref,” Mike snarled. “They score one goal, and you’d think they’d won the championship.”

  The referee blew his whistle and held the puck over centre. When he let it drop, Mike swung his stick wildly, but Charlie blocked it, and then drew the puck to Scott. Mike bulled past and charged at Scott, who waited calmly until Mike had committed and then slid the puck between Mike’s skates to Charlie. Charlie immediately whirled around and headed towards the Hornets’ goal. Zachary cut across the blue line and this time Charlie passed to him. Zachary danced around the right winger and curled into the Hornets’ end along the wall. Charlie followed behind.

  “Zachary, drop it,” he called.

  Zachary left the puck for him and set up in the corner. Pudge charged the net, as usual. Charlie was tempted to blast one from the top of the circle, but opted to slide the puck to Zachary down low. The right defenceman moved to pressure the puck, which left the area to the goalie’s right wide open. Zachary lifted the puck to that spot — and Charlie extended full out to corral it. The defenceman covering Pudge threw himself to the ice to block his shot. Charlie took a step to reach around the prone player and managed to fling it to the front of the net to Pudge. He faked a shot, which made the goalie drop to a butterfly, and then passed it hard back to Charlie, who tilted his stick and redirected the puck just inside the right post.

  During the entire play, Charlie hadn’t heard a sound. But the second the puck went in the roar of the crowd washed over him, almost catching him off guard. Zachary held him in a bear hug and lifted him off the ice a few times. Pudge pounded his helmet and soon Scott and Nick were doing the same.

  Charlie was too overwhelmed to say a word. He hadn’t scored in what seemed like ages. All the pressure he’d put on himself was gone. That last goal had been all instinct. He didn’t even have to think. His body had just reacted to the situation.

  This time he headed to the bench, figuring Hilton would change it up. Matt, Jonathon and Dylan were bashing their sticks on the boards. Hilton nodded to centre. Charlie felt a surge of energy. Two goals on one shift — and a chance for a third!

  Charlie lined up for the draw. The Hornets coach had his arm around Mike’s neck, and he was talking, his right hand jabbing into the air forcefully. Then Mike skated over to centre. Just as Hilton was doing for him, the Hornets coach was giving Mike a chance to redeem himself. Charlie was determined to prove that was a mistake.

  Mike changed his stance this time, widening his legs and holding his stick in a reverse grip. Charlie decided to try something unexpected. He also reversed his grip. But instead of pulling it back, he pushed the puck forward. Mike’s wide stance made it impossible for him to slow Charlie up, and Charlie easily evaded his desperate hip check and surged forward with the puck.

  He’d also surprised his linemates. They were still at the red line as he moved in on the defence. Since it was a one-on-two, he raised his stick to slap it in deep. The left defenceman turned to get a jump on the forecheck. That changed Charlie’s mind. He kept the puck and skated right behind the defenceman, shoving the puck into his skates. The defenceman kept turning his head to find the puck, but Charlie kept it in his skates so he couldn’t get at it. Finally, the defenceman spun to skate backwards. He was too slow, however. Charlie pulled the puck from his skates and slipped past his right shoulder.

  The other defenceman stormed over to cut Charlie off. Charlie slid his right hand halfway down the shaft of his stick and used his left arm to fend off his opponent. The two players pushed against each other, Charlie struggling to cut to the net and the defenceman trying just as hard to stop him.

  At the hash marks, Charlie realized he was running out of space. The goalie was way out to cut down the angle. A backhand was useless. He had to get to the slot. He slid the puck behind the defenceman’s back and slipped back inside. The Hornets player gasped as Charlie gathered the puck alone in front. The goalie butterflied, but Charlie wasn’t paying him much attention. He felt he could shoot through a brick wall. He reared back, hesitated slightly to put the goalie off, and let it fly. The puck nicked the right post and ricocheted in.

  He thrust his arms over his head and pumped his arms. The captain was supposed to come through in big games. Well, he had — three goals in one shift!

  After that, the rout was on. Before the first period ended, Matt scored another marker. By the end of the second it was 7–0. The Rebels supporters were chanting non-stop. Five minutes into the third, Dylan powered in from the wing and beat the goalie with a wicked shot on the short side. After that, the Rebels were content to kill the clock and the score ended 8–0.

  Bhrrr.

  The game was over! Martin threw his arms in the air. Scott and Nick jumped at him, and they went down in a heap, their delirious teammates following. Charlie didn’t know quite how to feel. He’d never been so relieved to win a game.

  “You did it,” Pudge said, arm around his shoulders. “Four goals and one assist.”

  “We did it,” Charlie said.

  “Bring on the Snow Birds,” Nick yelled.

  “There’s a surprise,” Scott said, pointing to the far boards. “Mike’s leaving before we shake hands. I thought he’d want to congratulate his old teammates.”

  “I’m sure he’ll drop by the dressing room,” Nick said.

  “Very cool, dudes,” Zachary said.

  “The Snow Birds will wish they never took up the game,” Matt added, pounding everyone’s helmet for good measure.

  “Come on, guys. Mike’s gone, but the rest of them are waiting,” Charlie said.

  He led the Rebels to centre to shake hands. Mike’s teammates proved to be good sports, wishing them luck in the semis. As he was skating off, he heard someone call his name.

  “Hey, Charlie, Pudge. Awesome game.”

  It was their sponsor, Brent. They skated over.

  “Thanks for coming out,” Charlie said. “We appreciate the support.”

  “Are you kidding?” he said. “Can’t remember enjoying a game more. You all played great — made The Hockey Shop proud.”

  “I thought you were changing the name,” Charlie said.

  “Nah,” he said. “In the end I couldn’t do it. Too much history.”

  “Why change the perfect name?” Charlie said.

  “Like the Rebels,” Brent said. “It says it all.”

  Charlie couldn’t have agreed more.

  26

  UP THE MIDDLE

  Charlie saw the puck squirt fr
ee and bounce towards the blue line. Burnett reached out with his stick, but before he could gain control Charlie swung his stick and chipped it out of the Rebels’ zone and down the ice. That was close! With Dylan and Zachary in the box to start the third, the Snow Birds had been buzzing all around the net to get the go-ahead goal.

  Burnett had hustled back and carried the puck up the right side. Charlie drifted over to force a pass. He didn’t want the talented rushing defenceman to take it into their end. He’d already scored off a fancy feed from Savard in the slot. That had made it 2–1 for the Snow Birds. Charlie tied it up at the end of the second, tipping Scott’s blast from the point under Alexi’s pad and into the left corner of the net.

  Burnett fired the puck cross ice to his defence partner, who promptly flicked it to the speedy Savard. He bore down on Nick and Scott, took it outside, and then slammed on the brakes at the hash marks against the boards. His teammates flooded the zone, and the Rebels set up their triangle.

  That gave Charlie a chance to survey the scene. Burnett was inching into the slot. The left winger was down low in the corner, square to Savard. The right winger was at the far side of the net. He instantly recognized the formation. It was the Snow Birds’ favourite play with the man advantage. Hilton had them practise against it all week. Savard would pass to his winger and shift to the top of the circle. Burnett charged the slot. The winger would look for Burnett first and, if covered, he’d pass back to Savard and go to the net.

  Savard indeed passed to the winger down low. Charlie knew exactly what to do.

  “I got the slot,” he yelled, and took a few steps towards Burnett.

  It was all deception. The winger assumed Charlie was going to cover Burnett, so he promptly passed to Savard without looking. Charlie had moved back to Savard, however. The puck went right to his stick. In one motion, Charlie whirled around and started up ice. Savard raced to get back on defence, which allowed Charlie to carry it out of his zone easily. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and noticed that the other Snow Birds, figuring he’d ice it, were backchecking very slowly.