Page 18

tyler

No single hockey game had ever been as nerve wracking as the thought of facing Halle after everything that happened. I was almost relieved I wouldn't really see her until after the game. For the time being, I was in my zone. All thoughts of the blonde woman I loved were discarded. The better I played, the faster this game would go. Unless we got completely shut out.

Like always, I arrived at the rink early. Elvis and Pat accompanied me, having come from hanging out at Elvis's apartment. The three of us were easy friends, despite none of us being the same age. It was almost a relief to have guys older than me who were more relaxed. Elvis was a welcoming change from Corey, and a completely different kind of goalie than Robin. He had a good eye from plays, but it wasn't just that. Elvis was more carefree. He didn't have the memory of three Stanley Cups, or the weight of previous mistakes in his career. He was the friend I hadn't known I'd needed.

And Pat was Pat. He was my permanent linemate. Especially with Jon absent, Pat felt the heavy weight of being one of the older top forwards. I didn't let him forget his age often. Right now was one of those times.

"Remember who we're playing tonight Kaner. Bunch of young guys. They'll skate circles around you old man."

"Yeah pops, don't let them get too close to my net, eh?" Pat turned slowly to glare across the room at our goalie.

"You are not the youngest guy here either, Merzly. I wouldn't be talking."

"Eh...I'm not a child like Walter, but I'm still younger than you. You were on skates for a few years before my parents even thought about me."

"And I was even farther behind that thought. You were, what, twelve? Already going through puberty when I was a wee fry." I kicked my skates out and crossed my arms behind my head.

"Ah, you are funny Walts. You know Kaner here didn't go through puberty till he was sixteen. Haven't you seen his first attempts at a playoff beard?"

"Whoa, if we're going into playoff beard chirping, then we have to bring up whatever the hell Tyler had on his face last year. Worse than mine by a long shot." Elvis shrugged.

"I have not seen."

I let out a a groan as Pat whipped his phone out. He was cackling as he crossed the room to where our goalie sat. When Elvis guffawed, I shook my head.

"What is that? Looks like you missed some patches shaving, kid." Elvis's laughter trailed off as a familiar figure stepped into the locker room. I was on my feet as soon as I saw him. Pat grinned at the newcomer.

"Now here's a real old geezer. What took you so long to come back Tazer?" I was second in line to grasp Jon's hand. The presence of my former captain and teammate was immediately relaxing.

"Been busy."

"Yeah, at that announcing job, right?" Pat slapped Jon heavily on the back. "How's Sharpy doing?"

"Pain in the ass. Like always. Burish isn't much better." Jon finally caught Elvis's eye. I could read the open apprehension in my friend's face. He wasn't sure if he'd get a similar greeting. He was a new member, after all. He didn't have anything to fear. Jon stuck out a hand in the goalie's direction. "You must be Elvis. Hell of goalie. I was all over your record last year. Damn good rookie season." Elvis's smile was sheepish.

"Didn't have to face you too much. Percentage would've been worse if I did." Jon laughed lowly.

"I would've gone easy on you. I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can crack these lazy kids into winning another cup. It's about time, boys." His tone was joking, but only halfway. It wasn't hard to read the intensity in his eyes.

Jon stuck around until the rest of the team arrived. He was finally shooed away by Coach, who claimed our former teammate was a distraction. I was sad to see him go, but I had a feeling Jon would be back again. Especially when the heavy brace was off of his knee and he wasn't hobbling around on crutches.

With the excitement gone, I was forced back into remembering that it was time to settle down and get game-ready. Tonight was the Vancouver Canucks, which consisted of the two friends I'd spent my time in Vegas with. Two friends who I'd be treating as complete enemies tonight. The friendships lasted the duration of the summer months and that was it. Hockey season meant rivalries. I was out for blood, and childhood friendships wouldn't stand in my way.

The buzz of game day finally settled in twenty minutes before warmups. I'd been stretched out by the trainers in the locker room, so my muscles were sufficiently loose already. I bounced on my skates now, ready to get out on the familiar ice. My ears could already pick up the din of fans in the stands far above. The red sweater rested snugly against my pads. My skates were the perfect fit. My stick was taped and gripped tightly in my hands. The last order of business was my helmet. I staring down at the plastic bucket, waiting for the call to line up. As soon as it came, I plopped the protective gear down. It was go time.

The routine of the game was so familiar, especially on home ice. I could probably do the warmups skating backwards and blindfolded. I fell into line behind Pat, Dominik right behind me. It was just like every night. The same guys had my back.

I rolled my shoulders, then my stick. We started onto the ice for our warmups. Elvis was first. The cheers for him were deafening. Of course they were. Elvis was the breakout rookie goalie who had come into the league with multiple shut outs. This season had only improved his record. I had to agree with Jon. The new addition was one hell of a goalie.

I took my time lapping our side of the rink. Sometimes it was nice to take in the fans and the arena. Today it was just as full as ever. I shot off a couple loose pucks to warm Elvis up, then split off to find Pat. I found the winger already waiting for me by the blue line. I dropped to my knees, holding out my gloved hand. We smacked the backs together, then fronts, ending by hit our elbows together. Finally, I grabbed onto his hand and we spun off each other. One full circle, then we faced front and slide the left leg out to the side. After the left we slid to the right. As soon as I'd finished the ritual with Pat, I went to Elvis for ours.

We'd come up with the move in practice one day. It was similar to what Kane and I did, but it was different. As I slid up, I could read his grin from under the mask. My hand was already outstretched. We tapped fists twice, then hit elbows. After the arm part was done, we tapped helmets, hit elbows again, and pulled a leg up in a cranking stretch motion. Before I skated away, I tapped his leg pads with my stick. His grin resembled the Cheshire Cat. With the scar by his eye, the look was uncannily unhinged. I'd hate to have to face him coming down the ice. Good thing he was on our team now.

My legs itched to get pumping. The minutes on the clock couldn't tick down fast enough. Each second was like a full minute. I did what I could to warm up, but nothing took up my full time. Eventually I ended up just playing pucks across the ice for Pat to shoot.

And then finally it was go time. We retreated down the hallway in preparation for our entrance. I was behind Pat again, but this time Kirby was behind me. He tapped my head with his glove in encouragement. I ignored him. No time to deal with him right now.

One by one, the men in front of me shot onto the ice. I waited eagerly while the announcer hyped the crowd up.

"Chicago, get loud for your captain, Tyler Dewalt!" The words would never get old. I shot forward, raising my stick in the air to acknowledge the crowd. Like every night, I slid into place on the blue line next to Pat. We stood shoulder to shoulder as the Canucks came filing out. The team in white and blue were greeted with boos. I looked down to hide my smile. Leave it to our fans to be the rowdiest. I hadn't heard a single boo when we'd skated out. Sometimes there were a few. Not tonight. It was all Hawks fans in this crowd.

I listened to the anthems ring out loud and brazen over the arena. They concluded with cheers from the fans. My heartbeat leveled out as I got ready for the face off. I found myself staring directly into the face of Elias Pettersson, the player I'd explored Vegas with. This time I didn't acknowledge that he existed. My eyes focus on the ref, waiting for him to drop the puck. The second he released the object, my stick snapped forward. Elias was there before me. I let out a curse as I lost the draw.

I had a feeling it wouldn't be the only lost face off of the game. The Canucks had multiple top line face off winners. Without Jon, our face off skills were limited. Ryan Carpenter and I were the only ones Jeremy liked to put in the circles.

My feet carried me after the puck without thinking. I hovered around the circles, waiting just outside the neutral zone for a pass from my teammates. Duncan and Nick couldn't clear the puck. The Canucks were making fools of our defense. Reading my mind, Pat went flying down to dispel the scrum in the corner. Seels kicked the puck free, then poked his stick out to sent it Pat's way. The desperate pass worked sufficiently.

Pat didn't have to look up to know where I was. He never did. I received the puck on the blade of my stick and wheeled around. There were three players in front of me. I had little hope of getting through all of them without getting laid out. I went for my next option. Brinksy was sliding up the left hand side of the ice, practically unnoticed. Kaner was behind me, but catching up fast. I chose to pass up to Alex. As soon as the puck left my hold, I went to the net. Alex brought it up, but he couldn't get the puck around the boards. The defense took it away and went right back down the other side. I heaved a sigh and followed.

Three more minutes of back and forth possession ensued. Finally, my line swapped with Kirby's. I was annoyed about our lack of true passing and hits during that shift. I watched with anticipation as Dacher's line took over. Duncs was still out, like usual, but everyone else had been replaced. I lifted a Gatorade bottle and squirted some of the liquid in my mouth before settling in to watch the plays.

Kirby was off. Anyone watching could see. He didn't put himself into plays like usual. Instead, he hung back back and waited for a pass. It wasn't his normal intensity. Coach was getting annoyed at him. The wings were doing everything right. Shawzy and Kubby were in the exact places, creating score opportunities for each other and Kirby. Every pass landed on the center's stick could've been a shot. Instead, he continued to second guess himself and send the puck away. After two minutes of that, Jeremy smacked my head.

"Get in there. Now." I jolted, immediately jumping onto the boards. I got the center's attention after a moment. As soon as Kirby's feet left the ice, I was out. Immediately, Kubby's pass found me. I cradled it up the ice, aware of Shawz on the right. My skating drew the defense over. The winger was wide open. It was a mistake so many teams made. They put guys all over me, trying to block my scoring chances. It hardly worked in their favor. I flipped the puck to him. Andrew tapped it out of the air with his hand and onto his stick. In the time that took, I slipped around the defensemen and was waiting for the pass, or rebound if needed. This time it was the rebound. His shot bounced off the blocker of the goalie, and I was right there. I slid the puck wide and right around the skate of the tendy. It slid right over the line. I whooped, finding Andrew already at my side. He smacked my helmet roughly.

"Good eye kid." His compliment was barely audible over the crowd. Dom was on my other side, smiling happily. I celebrated with them for another moment before sliding off to fist bump my teammates. I ignored the stone expression from the center I'd replaced. I pretended not to notice when Jeremy shoved the iPad into his hands. It wasn't my intention to start anything today.

I turned to the center ice for the face off again. After this, I only had a minute before the next line came out. I didn't mind playing longer if I had to. Especially if it was only the few seconds this was. A couple bouncing pucks later, and Dylan was replacing me.

The only open slot on the bench was next to Brinksy. I slid in next to him, bumping him roughly on purpose. He smirked, not looking at me. I knew what he was thinking. It wasn't hard to get inside the Cat's head. We watched the remainder of the first period in silence. When the buzzer sounded, I waited for Elvis to come off the ice before going down.

Coach went through his normal rant about what we needed to work on. It was all things we'd heard before, but we listened just as closely as if we hadn't. As soon as he was done, I went to the athletic trainers to get stretched out again. I itched to return to the ice, but I couldn't do that when I was tight with tension. I found Mike Gapski by the treatment tables. He took one look at me and pointed at the table. The head athletic trainer knew exactly what I needed.

I groaned as he rolled my right hip out. He worked on my knee and ankle before switching to the next leg. Then it was my shoulders, carefully chopping at them until my muscles were loose and ready to be worked again. Mike patted my shoulder once he was done.

"All set kid. Go kick ass bud." I mumbled a thanks before sliding off the table. Kaner was on the table the second I was off. He almost clipped me with his skate as I dismounted and headed away. I turned partially to glare at him. His grin was sly. I ignored his thumbs up. Helmet in hand, I made my way back to to where my stick was leaning against the wall. I heaved it up in preparation. Plays ran through my mind with swirling anticipation of the second period. One to zero. It was time to crack down and open the playing for real. And it had to be reciprocal play. I couldn't carry the whole team this time. Coach hadn't said anything about that in his talk, but I had understood the deeper meaning to his words. Hopefully the rest of my teammates had.

The seconds ticked down again. We headed back up to the ice from the locker room. I clenched my fist tightly around my stick in nerves. Jeremy was a few people behind me, but he called me back to him quietly. He poked at me with the clipboard in his hands.

"Want you to get them to throw the puck in deep for you. Or even Kaner. Talk to them out there. Let them hear you. Might switch you over to Dom's line if Dach keeps that attitude up. Be selfish, eh?" I nodded in understanding.

"Yes Coach." He looked me over for a moment, then motioned that I could continue on. I turned to follow the retreating backs on my teammates.

Like half an hour before, we bumped fists with the kids and fans lining the stands near the entrance. They were always so excited. Sometimes it was infectious. Just like now, when there were kids smiling like it was their birthday. Maybe it was, for some of them. They all had separate lives, but they'd come to the United Center for one reason. They were here to support us. Isn't that why we played, after all? It wasn't for the glory or the points. It was all for the fans. My chest puffed at the sentiment.

Jeremy set up my line the same as before. The Canucks line was different. I found myself staring down the stick of big Jay Beagle. To his right hovered Tyler Toffoli, shoving roughly against Kaner already. Looking to my left revealed an even deadlier opponent. Brock Boeser was glaring down Brinksy. I cursed mentally. This team had waited to put their top line combination out. I didn't know why. As if voiced my apprehension, Jay let a chirp loose at me.

"Nervous, little boy?" I knew my face hadn't given anything away. I didn't show emotion often in games. Especially not nerves. I was a lot like Jon in that way. I wasn't far off from being known as the new 'Captain Serious.' My fist tightened on my stick as I promptly ignored Jay. When the ref dropped the puck, I scooped it away. The action left me with several smarting checks from Jay. I knew the stick marks would leave bruises. Time to grit my teeth and continue on. I couldn't let Jay become an agitator. I wouldn't let him get under my skin.

Duncan carried the puck around the net, searching for one of the wingers to pass to. Before I could get in place for a formation, Duncs was pestered by Toffoli. His pass was desperate and missed us by a long shot. It was intercepted by a Canucks player, and the line immediately set up an attacking formation. I dropped quickly onto the defensive end, ready to stop the play. The three forwards circled like vultures while Jay had the puck. I tried to create pressure where I could. My stick shot out in an attempt to poke check the puck away. The first two times were fruitless and left me agitated.

Finally, my stick found the puck right. Immediately, I vaulted forward. I knew who was behind me by the deep calling of my name. An unusual partner, but I would take it. I grinned as I dangled around the defense. The goalie was expecting a shot. I faked like I would, pulling behind another player. Instead of slapping a shot away, my pass landed right onto the tape of Duncan's stick. He flipped the puck into the net with little effort. As soon as the puck was in, he turned and pointed at me. I smiled enthusiastically again.

As I returned to the center for the second face off of the shift, Jay was glaring me down. This time, I winked at him.