enough this past year to know he was capable of scoring two goals on any shift if the other team wasn’t careful.
“This time Gabriel’s gonna score, so don’t worry about me,” Charlie said, to his right winger.
“I thought I was gonna get two?” Gabriel said.
“Can we play some hockey already?” Richard growled.
Clark obliged, dropping the puck. Savard showed he was ready by winning the draw back to the right D. Charlie scolded himself for losing the draw so easily. He hadn’t been focused and Savard made him look bush.
He forechecked, one hand on his stick to take away the inside lane, waving it side to side slightly to make it harder to pass. The defenceman was smart and only faked the inside move, hitting Savard with a pass in the seam about six feet from the boards. Simon left his man to force Savard, who deftly flicked the puck over Simon’s stick to Richard. The burly winger took three powerful strides over centre and dumped it into the opposite corner for his left winger.
Charlie hustled to cover Savard. But he wasn’t the easiest guy to keep in check. He took off without warning to the left side and before Charlie could getthere the puck was on his stick, courtesy of a sharp pass from the winger who had outraced the defender to the corner. Savard threw on the brakes at the hash marks, with his back to Charlie, as his teammates streamed into the zone. Charlie felt good, however. He had Savard trapped against the wall, and there wasn’t much he could do.
He couldn’t have been more wrong. Savard whirled towards the blue line with the puck on his forehand and snapped a pass down low to the left winger who had managed to sneak past the defenceman. The winger one-timed it across the crease to Richard, and the puck was in before Charlie or any of his teammates could move.
Charlie slapped the ice with his stick. “We were supposed to score,” he said to Savard in admiration.
“That wouldn’t be fair,” he replied good-naturedly, as he skated to the net to congratulate Richard.
It was a different Charlie Joyce who lined up for the faceoff this time. Corey had said it all: You can’t take a shift off. This time he blocked Savard’s stick, and knocked the puck with his forehand to the boards close to his right defenceman.
In a repeat of the previous play, Savard forechecked and Charlie took a short pass from his defencemen. He spun and headed up ice, crossing the red line before firing it into the corner for Simon. He corralled the rolling puck and ringed it around the wall to Gabriel. Charlie followed the play intently, looking for an open seam. Gabriel didn’t hesitate. He took the puck, drove hard back behind thenet, and cut into the front of the net past a startled defencemen. The goalie dropped to his knees and pressed up against the post.
That wasn’t a problem for Gabriel. He pulled the puck back a fraction and flipped it up under the crossbar, before taking a late hit. He spun to the ice on his knees and popped back up seemingly in one motion.
Charlie marvelled at his right winger’s skills. What a goal — truly worthy of the highlight reel. As they lined up for the faceoff, Charlie noticed Savard was dead serious for the draw this time, as were all the players. Lesson learned by everyone: don’t take a shift off or the puck’s in your net.
Charlie leaned into Savard and inched his stick forward in anticipation of Clark dropping the puck.
13
STICKS AND STONES
Corey’s phone rang. The door to the bathroom flung open, and he came bounding across the room to grab it from the nightstand next to his bed.
“Hol’ on a sec, Da …” he struggled to say, his mouth full of toothpaste. He returned to the bathroom to spit and rinse his mouth.
Scott and Nick came into the room. “Is there a Joyce in the house?” Scott called out.
“You dudes ready to play?” Charlie asked.
Corey had spent most of last night talking about the capture the flag game they were playing this
“This time Gabriel’s gonna score, so don’t worry about me,” Charlie said, to his right winger.
“I thought I was gonna get two?” Gabriel said.
“Can we play some hockey already?” Richard growled.
Clark obliged, dropping the puck. Savard showed he was ready by winning the draw back to the right D. Charlie scolded himself for losing the draw so easily. He hadn’t been focused and Savard made him look bush.
He forechecked, one hand on his stick to take away the inside lane, waving it side to side slightly to make it harder to pass. The defenceman was smart and only faked the inside move, hitting Savard with a pass in the seam about six feet from the boards. Simon left his man to force Savard, who deftly flicked the puck over Simon’s stick to Richard. The burly winger took three powerful strides over centre and dumped it into the opposite corner for his left winger.
Charlie hustled to cover Savard. But he wasn’t the easiest guy to keep in check. He took off without warning to the left side and before Charlie could getthere the puck was on his stick, courtesy of a sharp pass from the winger who had outraced the defender to the corner. Savard threw on the brakes at the hash marks, with his back to Charlie, as his teammates streamed into the zone. Charlie felt good, however. He had Savard trapped against the wall, and there wasn’t much he could do.
He couldn’t have been more wrong. Savard whirled towards the blue line with the puck on his forehand and snapped a pass down low to the left winger who had managed to sneak past the defenceman. The winger one-timed it across the crease to Richard, and the puck was in before Charlie or any of his teammates could move.
Charlie slapped the ice with his stick. “We were supposed to score,” he said to Savard in admiration.
“That wouldn’t be fair,” he replied good-naturedly, as he skated to the net to congratulate Richard.
It was a different Charlie Joyce who lined up for the faceoff this time. Corey had said it all: You can’t take a shift off. This time he blocked Savard’s stick, and knocked the puck with his forehand to the boards close to his right defenceman.
In a repeat of the previous play, Savard forechecked and Charlie took a short pass from his defencemen. He spun and headed up ice, crossing the red line before firing it into the corner for Simon. He corralled the rolling puck and ringed it around the wall to Gabriel. Charlie followed the play intently, looking for an open seam. Gabriel didn’t hesitate. He took the puck, drove hard back behind thenet, and cut into the front of the net past a startled defencemen. The goalie dropped to his knees and pressed up against the post.
That wasn’t a problem for Gabriel. He pulled the puck back a fraction and flipped it up under the crossbar, before taking a late hit. He spun to the ice on his knees and popped back up seemingly in one motion.
Charlie marvelled at his right winger’s skills. What a goal — truly worthy of the highlight reel. As they lined up for the faceoff, Charlie noticed Savard was dead serious for the draw this time, as were all the players. Lesson learned by everyone: don’t take a shift off or the puck’s in your net.
Charlie leaned into Savard and inched his stick forward in anticipation of Clark dropping the puck.
13
STICKS AND STONES
Corey’s phone rang. The door to the bathroom flung open, and he came bounding across the room to grab it from the nightstand next to his bed.
“Hol’ on a sec, Da …” he struggled to say, his mouth full of toothpaste. He returned to the bathroom to spit and rinse his mouth.
Scott and Nick came into the room. “Is there a Joyce in the house?” Scott called out.
“You dudes ready to play?” Charlie asked.
Corey had spent most of last night talking about the capture the flag game they were playing this
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