Love For A Game

Chapter 1

The buzzer sounds to end the third period, with the score tied 0-0. Overtime now looms over all of the players as the best part of the game approaches. 0-0 is a score that deceives many fans, because it tricks them into believing that the game has been a dull one.

Allow me to say that this game has not been a dull one whatsoever. It has been one with many scoring chances, crushing body checks, and heartbreaking near-misses from both sides. It has been a game that only these two teams can deliver at this level.

The game takes place on November the twenty-fourth, 1983. It is a Sunday afternoon. On one side, there are the Ryerson Raiders, the top team in Ontario, with a record of 17-2. On the opposite side, you have the Colbert (pronounced Colb-AIR) Crusaders, ranked sixth in Ontario, yet second in our league, with a 15-5 record. Three of those losses have come at the hands of the Raiders.

This is my second season as captain of the Raiders. Last year, we made it to the league finals, but unfortunately lost in five games to a very strong Colbert team. You never met a group of more heartbroken teenagers in your life.

However this season, we have really started to turn things around. We have practiced more often, played harder, and added more grit and determination to our game, therefore playing better.

This game has quite a bit of significance to me as well. In nineteen games, I have scored a total of forty-nine goals and twenty-two assists, for seventy-one points. If I score the winning goal, I will have my fiftieth goal and I will be the fastest one to do so at any level (except for maybe Wayne Gretzky, the year he scored 378 times as a child). To do that at age fifteen would be phenomenal. The fiftieth goal is what looms over me, what haunts me when I play.

The team reaches the dressing room and I sit at my stall. We have a very small dressing room, just large enough to fit sixteen players and the coaches. It is made the way we like it. It is intimate enough that we can look at each other and know exactly what is going through their minds.

I glance over to our two top defenceman, Joshua Cole and Nathan Fox. Josh is playing well defensively, but he only has eight points in sixteen games (he took three games off for family issues). He told me a few games ago that his parents are splitting up, and that he's very upset about it. I told him that it would be okay, and that he could talk to any of us about his issue if he wants to. So far he hasn't reached out to anyone yet.

Nathan has had a good offensive year, with twenty-one points, but his defence is lacking a little bit. "It's my fault, Jordan," he had said to me. "I'm not playing well and it's hurting our team." I told him not to beat himself up over it.

I then look to our goaltender, Noel Johansson, who is muttering a prayer in Swedish. Noel came to our team last year when he first moved here from Stockholm. We had a goalie at the time, Vince Taggart, so Noel didn't play much. When Vince went to play junior this year, Noel was all we had. Boy, has he played great. He has six shutouts, and a goals-against average of 1.12. Noel always prays in Swedish at times like this, and the rest of us never complain. Why stop something that does the trick?

My two line mates, Charlie Sheppard and Luke Conway, sit on either side of me. The two of them are not only my line mates, but my best friends as well. Luke is a relatively small guy, at five foot six, and 135 pounds. He is as scrappy as they come though, and he loves to park himself in front of the opposing net and bug the goalie. This style of play has earned him forty-two points (14-28).

Charlie is a large guy, in more ways than one. He is tall, at six foot one, and big. He weighs close to two hundred pounds, and he is like a freight train coming at you. He leads our team in hits, with eight hits a game on average. He also has twenty-three points (8-15).

Our coach comes out of his office. George Bennington has been coach of the Raiders for six seasons now. When he first came on, the team wasn't very good and they lost more often than not. Bennington wouldn't have any of that. He worked his players to death, and they have played better and better as a result.

Bennington is what many might call a "good coach". He gets to know his players, and how they work. He watches out for us, helping us out with our game, and whatever else, when needed. He is always encouraging. "Jordan, you keep playin' like you're playin', you'll make it big one day," he once said to me. Most people call me a one-dimensional hockey player (mostly because I have a lot more goals than I do assists), but Bennington does not. "Keep playin' like that, kiddo. You're just what this team needs to win."

"All right, boys," Bennington begins. "Overtime is up next. We got five minutes. Zero-zero. Let's not let it end that way, eh?

"Jordan has forty-nine. If he could score his fiftieth here... Boy, that'd be something. Try and make that happen. He deserves it. Jordan, anything I missed?"

All eyes are on me now. Me, Jordan Devlin, the one who leads this team into battle each and every game. I don't really have anything to say, but I know that I have to say something. That is what everyone expects of me.

"Coach, I appreciate what you're trying to say. Yes, I would love to score my fiftieth goal. However, don't make that our sole purpose. Our sole purpose is just to score a goal. It doesn't have to be me who scores it. If you see an opportunity, by all means, take it. Throw everything you can at their net. A tie is not acceptable here. We need the win."

The trainer pops his head into the room. "George, it's time to go," he says. We all grab our sticks, put on our helmets, and start to head out to the ice.

A vision pops in my head at that moment. I am in a Montreal Canadiens sweater, skating up the ice in the signature Montreal Forum. I have the puck. I shoot on net, and watch the puck go in the net. I raise my hands, and the crowd goes nuts.

An adrenaline rush goes through me. I am ready for this, I think. This is our time to shine. Nothing can stop us now. Not even Colbert.

_____

This is my first publish, so I hope it is alright! I love ice hockey, and find it real easy to write about. I know that some of the terminology may be a little over some people's heads, but feel free to ask me questions!

The song on the side is "Free Bird", by Lynard Skynard.