Back to Where We Started From (Miracle)

Chapter Eleven

A little over a week later, Julie sat beside Walter Bush, the team's general manager, at a hockey arena in Oslo, Norway. The boys were playing Norway's national team, and as the game came to an end, it was tied 3-3. The boys just didn't seem to be in the game much tonight. Buzzy had gotten into a bit of a scrap and had gotten tossed out of the game. Julie noticed that her uncle looked absolutely livid. He was the only one, though. The boys seemed to be content with the tied game. The final buzzer sounded, the two teams shook hands before the boys headed back to their bench. Julie watched as Craig stopped them, ushering them back onto the ice. The stands were clearly out quickly, but she hadn't moved.

"The hell are they doing?" Walter muttered beside her. Walter was a large, older man, who seemed to simultaneously have total faith and no faith in Herb Brooks. She watched the boys talking to each other on the ice. Jack took his helmet off, shaking out his wet hair and looking up at her with a sarcastic smile. She couldn't help the grin on her face while looking at him. Just like Rob, Jack was missing a front tooth, and probably more that she couldn't see. Both boys usually wore fake ones except for when they were playing. Most of the boys were missing teeth and had scars on their faces, but none of them had as many scars as Jack. He was a fighter, there was no doubt about that.

Julie and Walter watched as Herb spoke to his players before they all skated towards the goal line. Craig had a whistle in his hand, and at Herb's nod he blew it, sending the boys down the ice.

"Herbies," Julie sighed. Walter gave her a funny look. "It's what the boys nicknamed this drill. Blue line back, red line back, far blue line back, far red line back. The boys have told me all about them."

The two of them sat quietly, watching as the boys completed a few Herbies. Most of the crowd was gone, merely giving a curious glance to the Americans still on the ice as they vacated. Every couple of rounds of Herbies, Herb would say something either meant to inspire, teach, or scare the boys.

"You think you can win on talent alone?" Herb nearly yelled. "Gentlemen, you don't have enough talent to win on talent alone! Again."

More Herbies.

"You think you can come in here and play the Norwegian national team and tie them, and then go to the Olympics and win? You got another thing coming. Again."

More Herbies.

"When you pull on that jersey, you represent yourself and your teammates. The name on the front is a hell of a lot more important than the one on the back. Get that through your head! Again."

More Herbies.

Walter had gotten up from his seat, and after watching a few more rounds from the aisle, he told Julie goodbye and left the arena. Julie just sat. She watched the boys, coughing and struggling. She felt awkward sitting by herself, and quietly made her way to stand near Doc and Craig, as the team continued to skate up and down the ice. She could hear them panting. She could tell that Craig was beginning to feel uncomfortable every time Herb made him blow the whistle to send the boys yet again. An older man eventually made his way up to them, speaking quietly with Doc. As the boys skated back to their goal line, Doc made his way across the ice.

"Herb!"

"What?"

"The rink manager wants to clean the ice and then go home," Doc informed the coach.

"Tell him to leave me the keys, I'll lock up. Again!"

Julie felt awful as her uncle continued to drill the boys. They were exhausted, they had been going at least thirty minutes. They fought on, despite Herb slandering them as he worked them to death. They all gasped for breath, sweat pouring off of them in noticable droplets.