him his gloves and stick.
“Did you get a game?” Goldsy said.
“They said I was the instigator of the fight,” Rocket said. “I’m gone. Did you see the hit?”
“We all did. I think R.C. Cola’s really messed. I can’t believe the guy hit his bad knee,” Goldsy said.
Nadav was helping Rory off.
The penalties had just been posted on the scoreboard, and the Racers’ fans were making their feelings felt. A chorus of boos cascaded down, and the referee was being called every name in the book. Rocket went to the bench.
“Most ridiculous call ever,” Rocket heard Crawford yell.
The boys had managed to sneak down again.
“Open your eyes, ref. Takes two guys to fight,” Chaz said.
Griff shook his scarf at the ref.
“Your number 36 got a major penalty for fighting, a two-minute instigator penalty and a misconduct,” the referee said to McGill. “He’s gone, obviously. I need a guy in the box for the fighting major and the instigator.”
“Don’t really see how we got three penalties and my guy is the one carried off the ice,” McGill said.
The referee pointed at the Racers’ end for the faceoff and skated off without answering.
Barker stomped over to the end of the bench. “Nice work, Rockwood. A 1–0 game, and you get a major, an instigator, a misconduct, and you don’t even take the other guy with you. Are you an idiot?”
“Focus on the game,” McGill said to Barker.
Barker grinned at McGill. “You should focus on
winning
the game.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” McGill said.
“Nope, but Floyd might have something to say about it,” Barker snickered.
“Meaning?” McGill said.
Barker shrugged and moved over to the middle of the bench.
McGill took a deep breath. “Beauclair, get out there for the kill.”
Barker seemed strangely smug and satisfied, like he knew a big secret.
Rocket shook his head. He went to the gate and left the ice.
“Awesome fight,” Crawford cheered from the railing.
“Heavyweight champion of the world —
The Rocket
,” Chaz said.
Griff waved his scarf over his head.
Rocket nodded weakly and walked past them.
Short-handed for five minutes! No wonder Barker was mad. He opened the dressing-room door. Rory sat at his stall, leaning against the wall, rubbing his face with a towel.
Was that it?
Was the knee blown out?
He hoped not. He knew Rory didn’t have a plan B, either.
CHAPTER 20
Rocket filled another ice bag and gave it to Nadav. Holding the ice bags in place, Nadav wrapped a Tensor bandage around them and Rory’s knee. Throughout it all, Rory remained perfectly still.
“No point jumping to conclusions,” Nadav said. He taped the end of the Tensor in place. “It could be nothing, a tweak.”
Rory gripped a towel in his hands. “Didn’t feel like a tweak, more like a pop. Two years of rehab, and I last three games because some jerk blindsides me.” He pulled the ends of the towel apart, then lowered his hands. “Stupid of me. I didn’t see him. I wasn’t ready.”
“Not your fault. It was a cheap shot,” Rocket said. “I had the puck.”
A muffled roar sounded from the crowd.
“You should get out there,” Rory said to Rocket.
“I sort of got kicked out — an instigator, a major for fighting and a misconduct,” Rocket said.
“There goes the Lady Byng,” Rory said.
Rocket laughed to be polite. Rory was putting up a brave front.
The door opened, and a tall man wearing a light grey, slightly baggy suit came in. His face was round, and he had bright red cheeks.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I’m Harry Dickerson, GM of the Rams. I just wanted to convey some words from Ron — the guy you got tangled up with.”
Rocket opened his mouth to have his say, but Dickerson lowered his head and held a hand up. “I know what you’re thinking. But Ron’s not that type of guy. He isn’t. He wanted me to let you know he feels really bad about you getting hurt. He honestly thought you had the puck, thought your
“Did you get a game?” Goldsy said.
“They said I was the instigator of the fight,” Rocket said. “I’m gone. Did you see the hit?”
“We all did. I think R.C. Cola’s really messed. I can’t believe the guy hit his bad knee,” Goldsy said.
Nadav was helping Rory off.
The penalties had just been posted on the scoreboard, and the Racers’ fans were making their feelings felt. A chorus of boos cascaded down, and the referee was being called every name in the book. Rocket went to the bench.
“Most ridiculous call ever,” Rocket heard Crawford yell.
The boys had managed to sneak down again.
“Open your eyes, ref. Takes two guys to fight,” Chaz said.
Griff shook his scarf at the ref.
“Your number 36 got a major penalty for fighting, a two-minute instigator penalty and a misconduct,” the referee said to McGill. “He’s gone, obviously. I need a guy in the box for the fighting major and the instigator.”
“Don’t really see how we got three penalties and my guy is the one carried off the ice,” McGill said.
The referee pointed at the Racers’ end for the faceoff and skated off without answering.
Barker stomped over to the end of the bench. “Nice work, Rockwood. A 1–0 game, and you get a major, an instigator, a misconduct, and you don’t even take the other guy with you. Are you an idiot?”
“Focus on the game,” McGill said to Barker.
Barker grinned at McGill. “You should focus on
winning
the game.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” McGill said.
“Nope, but Floyd might have something to say about it,” Barker snickered.
“Meaning?” McGill said.
Barker shrugged and moved over to the middle of the bench.
McGill took a deep breath. “Beauclair, get out there for the kill.”
Barker seemed strangely smug and satisfied, like he knew a big secret.
Rocket shook his head. He went to the gate and left the ice.
“Awesome fight,” Crawford cheered from the railing.
“Heavyweight champion of the world —
The Rocket
,” Chaz said.
Griff waved his scarf over his head.
Rocket nodded weakly and walked past them.
Short-handed for five minutes! No wonder Barker was mad. He opened the dressing-room door. Rory sat at his stall, leaning against the wall, rubbing his face with a towel.
Was that it?
Was the knee blown out?
He hoped not. He knew Rory didn’t have a plan B, either.
CHAPTER 20
Rocket filled another ice bag and gave it to Nadav. Holding the ice bags in place, Nadav wrapped a Tensor bandage around them and Rory’s knee. Throughout it all, Rory remained perfectly still.
“No point jumping to conclusions,” Nadav said. He taped the end of the Tensor in place. “It could be nothing, a tweak.”
Rory gripped a towel in his hands. “Didn’t feel like a tweak, more like a pop. Two years of rehab, and I last three games because some jerk blindsides me.” He pulled the ends of the towel apart, then lowered his hands. “Stupid of me. I didn’t see him. I wasn’t ready.”
“Not your fault. It was a cheap shot,” Rocket said. “I had the puck.”
A muffled roar sounded from the crowd.
“You should get out there,” Rory said to Rocket.
“I sort of got kicked out — an instigator, a major for fighting and a misconduct,” Rocket said.
“There goes the Lady Byng,” Rory said.
Rocket laughed to be polite. Rory was putting up a brave front.
The door opened, and a tall man wearing a light grey, slightly baggy suit came in. His face was round, and he had bright red cheeks.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I’m Harry Dickerson, GM of the Rams. I just wanted to convey some words from Ron — the guy you got tangled up with.”
Rocket opened his mouth to have his say, but Dickerson lowered his head and held a hand up. “I know what you’re thinking. But Ron’s not that type of guy. He isn’t. He wanted me to let you know he feels really bad about you getting hurt. He honestly thought you had the puck, thought your
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