drummed their sticks against the boards.
Five seconds after face-off, Pie caught a pass from Bud Rooney, bolted toward the Bears’ net, and saw his chance to score.
The Bears’ goalie had slipped to one knee at the right side of the crease and was taking his sweet old time getting to his
feet.
Smack!
The puck streaked like a black pellet through space. Up shot the goalie in a futile effort to catch it with his gloved hand.
Goal!
“Nice shot, Pie!” the familiar voice shouted again in the stands.
This time he recognized it, and a grin curved his lips. He looked up at the sea of faces and saw two that looked exactly alike
— the Byrd twins, Jody and Joliette.
Jody waved. “See you during intermission!” he yelled.
“Can’t!” Pie yelled back.
“Your fans, Pennelli?” a voice sneered near his elbow.
He turned sharply and read Terry’s mocking grin.
“My friends, if you’d like to know,” answered Pie, and he turned his attention to the game, which continued without another
score to the end of the first period. Penguins 2, Bears 1.
Pie skated off the ice, plagued by his over-sizeskates more than he was by Terry’s cutting sarcasm.
Tired and half worn out, he stepped into the locker room, sat down, and took off his helmet. The cool air felt refreshing.
He was ready to settle for a few minutes of much-needed rest, when in burst a couple of kids, both in blue snowsuits and both
looking as alike as twins could possibly look.
“Pie!” Jody Byrd cried breathlessly
“It’s coming out exactly like we thought it would!”
“Exactly!” Joliette repeated.
Pie stared from one bright-eyed, redcheeked face to the other. “What is?” he asked bewilderedly.
“The game!” Joliette cried. “It’s coming out exactly the same!”
Pie frowned. “The same as what?”
Just then Terry Mason’s voice cut in like asharp-toothed saw. “Hey, you kids, beat it. Even the great Pennelli’s fans aren’t allowed in here.”
The twins scowled at him and headed for the door. “See you after the game, Pie.”
Pie nodded, still frowning.
The same as what?
he thought.
Just what were those twins talking about, anyway?
2
F off, and the second period was underway.
Terry Mason and Ed Kadola smacked at the puck. It skittered toward left forward Bud Rooney, who socked it across the ice to
Pie. Pie stopped it, dribbled it across the blue line, saw a Bear defenseman charging at him, and passed to his right defenseman,
Chuck Billings.
Bang!
Chuck clouted the puck toward the Bears’ net.
The Bears’ goalie shifted his left leg and stopped it with his pad. He then picked it upand tossed it behind the net, where another Bear retrieved it and started to dribble it up the ice.
Crash!
Pie bodychecked him at the boards as he tried to pokecheck the puck.
Phreet!
sounded a whistle, and Pie saw a ref pointing at him.
“Boarding!” the ref yelled. Pie shook his head and skated off the ice toward the penalty box.
“You went at him like a bomb,” said Terry, skating up beside Pie. “You can’t take more than two steps when you’re checking
a guy. Don’t you know that?”
Pie glared at him. “I wasn’t thinking about steps,” he grunted. “I was thinking about getting that puck.”
“Well, you’d better think about steps, too,” Terry snapped.
Pie found it difficult to control his temper, and was almost pleased for the one-minutepenalty. While he sat serving his sentence, the Penguins tried desperately to keep possession of the puck. They knew that
if the Bears got it they could try a power play, and the Penguins, with five men on the ice instead of six, could do very
little about it.
And that’s what happened. A Bear stole the puck from Frog Alexander and all five of their men — the goalie remained at his
position — kept control of the puck. They passed it back and forth among them, evading Bud, Terry, Chuck, and Frog with quick,
accurate passes.
Then
snap!
A goal!
Ed
Five seconds after face-off, Pie caught a pass from Bud Rooney, bolted toward the Bears’ net, and saw his chance to score.
The Bears’ goalie had slipped to one knee at the right side of the crease and was taking his sweet old time getting to his
feet.
Smack!
The puck streaked like a black pellet through space. Up shot the goalie in a futile effort to catch it with his gloved hand.
Goal!
“Nice shot, Pie!” the familiar voice shouted again in the stands.
This time he recognized it, and a grin curved his lips. He looked up at the sea of faces and saw two that looked exactly alike
— the Byrd twins, Jody and Joliette.
Jody waved. “See you during intermission!” he yelled.
“Can’t!” Pie yelled back.
“Your fans, Pennelli?” a voice sneered near his elbow.
He turned sharply and read Terry’s mocking grin.
“My friends, if you’d like to know,” answered Pie, and he turned his attention to the game, which continued without another
score to the end of the first period. Penguins 2, Bears 1.
Pie skated off the ice, plagued by his over-sizeskates more than he was by Terry’s cutting sarcasm.
Tired and half worn out, he stepped into the locker room, sat down, and took off his helmet. The cool air felt refreshing.
He was ready to settle for a few minutes of much-needed rest, when in burst a couple of kids, both in blue snowsuits and both
looking as alike as twins could possibly look.
“Pie!” Jody Byrd cried breathlessly
“It’s coming out exactly like we thought it would!”
“Exactly!” Joliette repeated.
Pie stared from one bright-eyed, redcheeked face to the other. “What is?” he asked bewilderedly.
“The game!” Joliette cried. “It’s coming out exactly the same!”
Pie frowned. “The same as what?”
Just then Terry Mason’s voice cut in like asharp-toothed saw. “Hey, you kids, beat it. Even the great Pennelli’s fans aren’t allowed in here.”
The twins scowled at him and headed for the door. “See you after the game, Pie.”
Pie nodded, still frowning.
The same as what?
he thought.
Just what were those twins talking about, anyway?
2
F off, and the second period was underway.
Terry Mason and Ed Kadola smacked at the puck. It skittered toward left forward Bud Rooney, who socked it across the ice to
Pie. Pie stopped it, dribbled it across the blue line, saw a Bear defenseman charging at him, and passed to his right defenseman,
Chuck Billings.
Bang!
Chuck clouted the puck toward the Bears’ net.
The Bears’ goalie shifted his left leg and stopped it with his pad. He then picked it upand tossed it behind the net, where another Bear retrieved it and started to dribble it up the ice.
Crash!
Pie bodychecked him at the boards as he tried to pokecheck the puck.
Phreet!
sounded a whistle, and Pie saw a ref pointing at him.
“Boarding!” the ref yelled. Pie shook his head and skated off the ice toward the penalty box.
“You went at him like a bomb,” said Terry, skating up beside Pie. “You can’t take more than two steps when you’re checking
a guy. Don’t you know that?”
Pie glared at him. “I wasn’t thinking about steps,” he grunted. “I was thinking about getting that puck.”
“Well, you’d better think about steps, too,” Terry snapped.
Pie found it difficult to control his temper, and was almost pleased for the one-minutepenalty. While he sat serving his sentence, the Penguins tried desperately to keep possession of the puck. They knew that
if the Bears got it they could try a power play, and the Penguins, with five men on the ice instead of six, could do very
little about it.
And that’s what happened. A Bear stole the puck from Frog Alexander and all five of their men — the goalie remained at his
position — kept control of the puck. They passed it back and forth among them, evading Bud, Terry, Chuck, and Frog with quick,
accurate passes.
Then
snap!
A goal!
Ed
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