Monday, November 22, 2004
9.
9.
The phone in the kitchen of Pinewoods rang. Audra Pendleton came running into the kitchen swearing. She’d forgotten to take the cordless with her when she’d gone into the bathroom and now she was running as fast as she could with her jeans around her ankles trying to get to the phone.
“Hello?” she answered, breathing heavily.
“Aud? That you?”
“Oh, hey, Gary.”
“What’s up? Did I interrupt something?” She could hear a lot of noise in the background.
“No. I was in the bathroom. I forgot the cordless.”
“Are you naked?” He laughed. “I could get home really fast!”
“No. Besides, Colette’s around somewhere. We’re just about ready. I just sent Dan Ostrowsky down to Amity to get a couple of things. Hopefully he won’t be too long, as it’s starting to get a little worse out there.” She looked out the kitchen window at the snow, which had intensified enough that she couldn’t easily make out the pool house across the yard. “Are you guys coming or what? Are we going to have a good party or a bad party?”
“Oh, it’s gonna be good. The Golden Boys are going out champions. I’m just waiting for the guys to come out of the locker room, and then we’ll be on our way. Besides, I’ve got the Land Rover anyway, so it’ll be no problem getting home. Kim and Kat should already be about halfway to the house, as they left about twenty five minutes ago.”
“Okay. Well, be careful out there. We’ll see you soon.” She hung up the phone.
“Hey, Audra, who was... whoops... sorry.” Colette giggled as Audra flushed and quickly pulled her jeans up.
“It was Gary. They won, so the party’s gonna be insane.” Audra was happy about that. She had been apprehensive when Gary had told her his idea for the big bash. Gary had been sure that they would win, though, and wouldn’t hear anything else. So he’d gone ahead and invited virtually the entire senior class, and theoretically, they were all going to be here in an hour or two. “How are we looking?”
“Well, the living room and great room are clean, and the area in front of Doug’s equipment is cleared. Burke’s office is locked up tight, and I put that big jar that Gary wanted on the table in the foyer. Now we just need more people to show up.” Colette walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Diet Pepsi. She sat at the counter. “They are going to show up, aren’t they?”
“Who can tell? But Charlie does have a lot of pull with the other kids at school, and having Doug’s band playing here will probably draw in some others. I figure this’ll probably be the social highlight of the year.” As she finished speaking, the doorbell rang. “See, told ya.” She headed off to answer the door.
Gary hung up the phone. He turned around to look to see if they’d come out yet, but there were still a few reporters standing by the locker room door, so he sat down on the bench next to the phone and waited. A couple of minutes later, the door opened, and the Holy Mother players began emerging, bags in hand. Doug and Bill came out first and walked over towards Gary. Jack followed, and then Charlie came out, talking animatedly to an older man with a notepad. Doug and Bill were arguing.
“No. I’m not playing it.”
“Come on, Bill. We can’t just play the same ten songs for four hours.”
“Well, you can pick something else. I’m not playing a freaking mandolin.”
“Jesus Christ. I didn’t ask you to play a mandolin. I just want you to play bass on the song.”
“It’s not our kind of material. It’s like that stupid demo tape.”
Doug shook his head. “That stupid demo tape is going to get our careers moving. I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to be playing covers in some crappy bar band fifteen years from now.”
“Tape, what tape?” Gary was surprised. This was the first he’d heard of it.
“I went to Trod Nossel a couple of weeks ago and cut a demo tape with Kevin and a couple of studio guys I know. I’m trying to get it circulated around the labels in New York.”
“What kind of music is it?”
“I’ll tell you what kind of music it is,” Bill said angrily, “it’s lame-ass pop crap. It;s nothing like what we play in Cerebus.”
“It’s MY music, Bill. I wrote it all myself. And yeah, it’s more pop-oriented. It’s also the way that the market is going nowadays. Hair metal’s only got another year or two left in it. And I don’t want to be stuck in the same rut when the tide shifts.”
“It’s bullshit. That’s what it is.” Bill was pissed. He hated the tape, and had refused to be involved in it. He wanted to play the music that they’d started out playing.
“Well, you don’t have to play it. I know a few people who’d like to be in a gigging band.”
“I didn’t say I was quitting.”
“Guys, guys, come on.” Gary stepped between them. “Hey, it’s a good day. You guys just won a state championship, and now we’re gonna go and have a good time. Why don’t you save all that for after the party.”
“You’re right, as always, Gary. I’m sorry.” Doug smiled, then offered his hand to Bill. “Friends?”
“Yeah, friends. But I want to sing “Ace Of Spades” tonight.”
Doug considered this for a second. “Okay, “Ace of Spades” in exchange for the other song.”
“Deal.” He shook Doug’s hand, then pulled him into a brotherly hug. Doug went with it, but Gary could see he wasn’t happy. Jack walked over and dropped his bag on the ground. They all stood around waiting for Charlie. Gary decided that he’d go and get the car. He told the others to drag Charlie away as soon as they could and grabbed the elevator down to the garage. As he pulled out of the garage, he narrowly avoided getting hit by a Department of Transportation plow, which was pushing the inch or so of snow off of Trumbull Street and laying down a thin spread of sand and rock salt. He drove around the block and pulled back up to the front entrance at Trumbull and Church. By the time he did so, Charlie and the others had emerged from the Civic Center. They came down and piled into the Land Rover, and Gary headed towards the highway.
“So, everything ready?” Charlie sat back in the front passenger seat, finally relaxing for the first time since he’d gotten up that morning.
“Should be. This storm’s getting worse, but Audra said that it wasn’t so bad down on the shore.” Gary pulled out from behind a Volvo traveling entirely too slow for what little snow was on the ground and merged onto Interstate 91, headed south towards New Haven. “Let me turn on the radio and see what’s going on.”
“...and the state of Connecticut is now under a blizzard warning. The Governor’s office has just issued the following statement: The State of Connecticut is officially closed. Please remain in your homes and do not use roads unless it is absolutely necessary. Please keep all side roads open for emergency vehicles and Department of Transportation plow trucks. I repeat, the State of Connecticut is closed. Here is the current forecast for the New Haven metropolitan area. Today, snow, heavy at times, with blowing winds in excess of thirty miles an hour. Accumulations of one to two feet of snow in the downtown New Haven area, with two feet or more expected the farther you go away from the coastline. Temperatures will remain just below freezing, and the storm center has stalled out over Connecticut and Long Island Sound. It is not expected to begin slowing until sometime tomorrow afternoon, by which time metro New Haven will have recieved twenty-four to thirty inches of snow, and any areas above the Merritt and Wilbur Cross Parkway line can expect to see thirty-six to forty inches of snow. Back to you, Bob.”
“Okay, thank you, Dr. Mel Goldstein of Storm Team 8. Well, we’ll keep it going for you here, and keep the classic hits of the 50's, 60's and 70's going on Big D, WDRC 103 FM. Here’s some wishful thinking for all you people stuck on the roads. The Loving Spoonful, “Summer in the City” at Big D 103.” Gary switched off the radio.
“Holy shit, guys. I hope I’ve got enough food for everyone.” Gary thought about it for a minute. He was glad that he’d gassed up the house’s generator the week before. “I guess I’m gonna be putting up a lot of people tonight.”
“That’s okay, man. It’s our night to howl! Owoooooo!” Charlie howled, and the others joined in. He felt pretty good.
“Hey, Doug. You have that tape on you? I want to hear it.” Gary reached his hand back.
“No man, it’s not ready yet. It’s still pretty rough. Besides, I don’t want to..”
“Nonsense. Hand it over.” Gary took the tape from Doug and popped it in the tape deck. They rode down the highway not speaking, just listening to Doug’s demo tape. Despite Doug’s protestations to the contrary, it was a fairly polished little piece of work. There were four songs, all of them mid-tempo pop numbers. Gary was surprised at what he heard. He liked it a lot more then the original songs that Cerebus performed, which were more along the lines of progressive rock/metal, sort of a combination of Iron Maiden and King Crimson. The standout of the bunch was “Just The Way”, which Gary thought wouldn’t be out of place on the radio in the midst of people like Richard Marx or Elton John.
When it was over, he popped it out and handed it back to Doug. “Dude, you’ve gotta get me a copy of that. It’s really good, Doug.”
“Yeah, man. I liked it a lot. Especially that “Just The Way” song. It sounded like Journey, but in a good way.” Charlie smiled. “You gotta play that one tonight. I think everyone will love it.”.
“Thanks, guys. It’s just okay. I’m pretty happy with it, but I don’t really know if it’s gonna help me get anywhere.” Doug sat back and looked out the window. He was aware of Bill’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his skull, but he didn’t care.
The phone in the kitchen of Pinewoods rang. Audra Pendleton came running into the kitchen swearing. She’d forgotten to take the cordless with her when she’d gone into the bathroom and now she was running as fast as she could with her jeans around her ankles trying to get to the phone.
“Hello?” she answered, breathing heavily.
“Aud? That you?”
“Oh, hey, Gary.”
“What’s up? Did I interrupt something?” She could hear a lot of noise in the background.
“No. I was in the bathroom. I forgot the cordless.”
“Are you naked?” He laughed. “I could get home really fast!”
“No. Besides, Colette’s around somewhere. We’re just about ready. I just sent Dan Ostrowsky down to Amity to get a couple of things. Hopefully he won’t be too long, as it’s starting to get a little worse out there.” She looked out the kitchen window at the snow, which had intensified enough that she couldn’t easily make out the pool house across the yard. “Are you guys coming or what? Are we going to have a good party or a bad party?”
“Oh, it’s gonna be good. The Golden Boys are going out champions. I’m just waiting for the guys to come out of the locker room, and then we’ll be on our way. Besides, I’ve got the Land Rover anyway, so it’ll be no problem getting home. Kim and Kat should already be about halfway to the house, as they left about twenty five minutes ago.”
“Okay. Well, be careful out there. We’ll see you soon.” She hung up the phone.
“Hey, Audra, who was... whoops... sorry.” Colette giggled as Audra flushed and quickly pulled her jeans up.
“It was Gary. They won, so the party’s gonna be insane.” Audra was happy about that. She had been apprehensive when Gary had told her his idea for the big bash. Gary had been sure that they would win, though, and wouldn’t hear anything else. So he’d gone ahead and invited virtually the entire senior class, and theoretically, they were all going to be here in an hour or two. “How are we looking?”
“Well, the living room and great room are clean, and the area in front of Doug’s equipment is cleared. Burke’s office is locked up tight, and I put that big jar that Gary wanted on the table in the foyer. Now we just need more people to show up.” Colette walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Diet Pepsi. She sat at the counter. “They are going to show up, aren’t they?”
“Who can tell? But Charlie does have a lot of pull with the other kids at school, and having Doug’s band playing here will probably draw in some others. I figure this’ll probably be the social highlight of the year.” As she finished speaking, the doorbell rang. “See, told ya.” She headed off to answer the door.
Gary hung up the phone. He turned around to look to see if they’d come out yet, but there were still a few reporters standing by the locker room door, so he sat down on the bench next to the phone and waited. A couple of minutes later, the door opened, and the Holy Mother players began emerging, bags in hand. Doug and Bill came out first and walked over towards Gary. Jack followed, and then Charlie came out, talking animatedly to an older man with a notepad. Doug and Bill were arguing.
“No. I’m not playing it.”
“Come on, Bill. We can’t just play the same ten songs for four hours.”
“Well, you can pick something else. I’m not playing a freaking mandolin.”
“Jesus Christ. I didn’t ask you to play a mandolin. I just want you to play bass on the song.”
“It’s not our kind of material. It’s like that stupid demo tape.”
Doug shook his head. “That stupid demo tape is going to get our careers moving. I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to be playing covers in some crappy bar band fifteen years from now.”
“Tape, what tape?” Gary was surprised. This was the first he’d heard of it.
“I went to Trod Nossel a couple of weeks ago and cut a demo tape with Kevin and a couple of studio guys I know. I’m trying to get it circulated around the labels in New York.”
“What kind of music is it?”
“I’ll tell you what kind of music it is,” Bill said angrily, “it’s lame-ass pop crap. It;s nothing like what we play in Cerebus.”
“It’s MY music, Bill. I wrote it all myself. And yeah, it’s more pop-oriented. It’s also the way that the market is going nowadays. Hair metal’s only got another year or two left in it. And I don’t want to be stuck in the same rut when the tide shifts.”
“It’s bullshit. That’s what it is.” Bill was pissed. He hated the tape, and had refused to be involved in it. He wanted to play the music that they’d started out playing.
“Well, you don’t have to play it. I know a few people who’d like to be in a gigging band.”
“I didn’t say I was quitting.”
“Guys, guys, come on.” Gary stepped between them. “Hey, it’s a good day. You guys just won a state championship, and now we’re gonna go and have a good time. Why don’t you save all that for after the party.”
“You’re right, as always, Gary. I’m sorry.” Doug smiled, then offered his hand to Bill. “Friends?”
“Yeah, friends. But I want to sing “Ace Of Spades” tonight.”
Doug considered this for a second. “Okay, “Ace of Spades” in exchange for the other song.”
“Deal.” He shook Doug’s hand, then pulled him into a brotherly hug. Doug went with it, but Gary could see he wasn’t happy. Jack walked over and dropped his bag on the ground. They all stood around waiting for Charlie. Gary decided that he’d go and get the car. He told the others to drag Charlie away as soon as they could and grabbed the elevator down to the garage. As he pulled out of the garage, he narrowly avoided getting hit by a Department of Transportation plow, which was pushing the inch or so of snow off of Trumbull Street and laying down a thin spread of sand and rock salt. He drove around the block and pulled back up to the front entrance at Trumbull and Church. By the time he did so, Charlie and the others had emerged from the Civic Center. They came down and piled into the Land Rover, and Gary headed towards the highway.
“So, everything ready?” Charlie sat back in the front passenger seat, finally relaxing for the first time since he’d gotten up that morning.
“Should be. This storm’s getting worse, but Audra said that it wasn’t so bad down on the shore.” Gary pulled out from behind a Volvo traveling entirely too slow for what little snow was on the ground and merged onto Interstate 91, headed south towards New Haven. “Let me turn on the radio and see what’s going on.”
“...and the state of Connecticut is now under a blizzard warning. The Governor’s office has just issued the following statement: The State of Connecticut is officially closed. Please remain in your homes and do not use roads unless it is absolutely necessary. Please keep all side roads open for emergency vehicles and Department of Transportation plow trucks. I repeat, the State of Connecticut is closed. Here is the current forecast for the New Haven metropolitan area. Today, snow, heavy at times, with blowing winds in excess of thirty miles an hour. Accumulations of one to two feet of snow in the downtown New Haven area, with two feet or more expected the farther you go away from the coastline. Temperatures will remain just below freezing, and the storm center has stalled out over Connecticut and Long Island Sound. It is not expected to begin slowing until sometime tomorrow afternoon, by which time metro New Haven will have recieved twenty-four to thirty inches of snow, and any areas above the Merritt and Wilbur Cross Parkway line can expect to see thirty-six to forty inches of snow. Back to you, Bob.”
“Okay, thank you, Dr. Mel Goldstein of Storm Team 8. Well, we’ll keep it going for you here, and keep the classic hits of the 50's, 60's and 70's going on Big D, WDRC 103 FM. Here’s some wishful thinking for all you people stuck on the roads. The Loving Spoonful, “Summer in the City” at Big D 103.” Gary switched off the radio.
“Holy shit, guys. I hope I’ve got enough food for everyone.” Gary thought about it for a minute. He was glad that he’d gassed up the house’s generator the week before. “I guess I’m gonna be putting up a lot of people tonight.”
“That’s okay, man. It’s our night to howl! Owoooooo!” Charlie howled, and the others joined in. He felt pretty good.
“Hey, Doug. You have that tape on you? I want to hear it.” Gary reached his hand back.
“No man, it’s not ready yet. It’s still pretty rough. Besides, I don’t want to..”
“Nonsense. Hand it over.” Gary took the tape from Doug and popped it in the tape deck. They rode down the highway not speaking, just listening to Doug’s demo tape. Despite Doug’s protestations to the contrary, it was a fairly polished little piece of work. There were four songs, all of them mid-tempo pop numbers. Gary was surprised at what he heard. He liked it a lot more then the original songs that Cerebus performed, which were more along the lines of progressive rock/metal, sort of a combination of Iron Maiden and King Crimson. The standout of the bunch was “Just The Way”, which Gary thought wouldn’t be out of place on the radio in the midst of people like Richard Marx or Elton John.
When it was over, he popped it out and handed it back to Doug. “Dude, you’ve gotta get me a copy of that. It’s really good, Doug.”
“Yeah, man. I liked it a lot. Especially that “Just The Way” song. It sounded like Journey, but in a good way.” Charlie smiled. “You gotta play that one tonight. I think everyone will love it.”.
“Thanks, guys. It’s just okay. I’m pretty happy with it, but I don’t really know if it’s gonna help me get anywhere.” Doug sat back and looked out the window. He was aware of Bill’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his skull, but he didn’t care.
8.
8.
Charlie skated out to the center circle to await the drop of the puck. He tried to remember the breathing exercises again, but he couldn’t. All he could think about was the last twenty minutes and winning the game. He shook his head as the ref skated over.
“All right, guys. This is it. I want the last twenty to go the same way the first forty have gone.” He blew his whistle and Charlie took a deep breath. As he dropped the puck, Charlie leapt forward and took the puck. He slapped it over to Doug, who skated forward and slapped it around the boards. Charlie skated down into the corner, chased by a Jesuit player. He got to the puck and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the defenseman as he slammed into the boards. Charlie skated around him and passed it back to the top of the offensive zone, where Bill was waiting.
Bill took the pass and hovered along the blue line, all the while keeping the puck onside. Doug worked himself open and Bill passed the puck back towards him. But a Jesuit player got in the middle and took the puck away. The teams skated back down the ice, Jake Chambers chasing down the player before he got onside and forced him into an offsides call. The ref whistled the play dead. As he did so, one of the Jesuit players tripped Doug up with his stick. As Doug got up, he lunged towards the player, who was skating away. Bill grabbed him before he could get there.
“Come on, man. Don’t be like me. Just make him pay on the next trip down the ice.”
“Let go of me, man. He tripped me, that sonofabitch.”
“Let it go, Doug. Let it go.” Bill skated back to his position as Doug went to line up for the face off. Charlie was right. The last thing the team needed was a stupid penalty, and the last guy other then Charlie who should be drawing that penalty was Doug. The ref dropped the puck again, and off they went. Charlie lead the team down the ice, and after getting a nice feed from Doug, slapped one right through the five-hole to tie the score. They celebrated as the Prep crowd booed lustily.
“Great shot, bro, great shot!” Doug slapped his helmet as they skated back towards the bench.
“Yeah, but there’s too much time left in the game.” Charlie was right. There was still almost fifteen minutes left on the clock, and anything could happen in that time.
Anything turned out to be not much as the game neared the end of regulation. Charlie’s line got back into the game with about three minutes to go and the score still tied. They needed to do something, and fast, and as it turned out, something would happen just that fast. Charlie took a pass from Tommy Mack, Bill’s junior defensive linemate, and skated up ice. He knew that someone was following him, but he didn’t know who. As he looked to dump the puck off, he saw that it was Wilson. He dished off the puck to Doug and headed around behind the net. Wilson followed him, and the two of them tangled behind the net. As the ref turned to watch the play at hand, Charlie whacked Wilson’s leg with his stick. He was trying to draw Wilson into doing something stupid, and it worked. As Charlie skated out from behind the net, Wilson came up behind him and delivered a massive crosscheck to Charlie’s back, sending him sprawling towards the wall. He bumped the wall with his helmet, not hard enough to actually cause any injury, but enough to draw the whistle he was hoping for.
“Oh, come on, ref! He took a Goddamned dive.”
“Wilson, even a brick wall like Mr. Ryan over there would take a dive after getting checked as hard as you hit Ferris. Two minutes, number nine, crosscheck.”
“You bastard!” Wilson lunged towards Charlie, who had regained his feet and was strapping his helmet back onto his head. He managed to get through the linesman who tried to restrain him and took a swing at Charlie. His arm was stopped mid-swing by Bill, who swung him around and pushed him back.
“That’s it, damnit, that’s it! I’m taking back my game right now. Wilson, get the hell off my ice.” The ref skated over to the scorers’ box. “Number nine, Game Misconduct, unsportsmanlike conduct.”
Wilson went berserk, as did the Jesuits coach. He came out onto the ice and began arguing with the ref as both linesman restrained Wilson and pulled him off the ice towards the locker room. The Prep side of the arena began showering the ice with cups and other litter. Charlie just stood back and watched it all. This wasn’t quite what he had in mind, but it worked okay for him as well.
Doug skated by him. “Nice touch. Nothing like a little outside assistance to get by.” Charlie just laughed at him.
After a ten-minute delay while the Civic Center crew cleaned off the ice and a security detail fanned out to the stands to form a protective barrier between the Tiger and Jesuit fans, the game restarted. Immediately, the impact of Wilson’s ouster and the delay of the game was felt as Charlie and Doug took the faceoff right down into Prep’s end and Charlie blasted a slapper past the dazed Jesuit goalie to take the lead. A minute and a half later, with the Jesuit net empty so that they could have an extra skater, Bill managed to clear the puck the entire length of the ice and into the net to put a capper on it all. Twenty seconds later, the Jesuits were skating dejectedly off the ice as the Tigers celebrated in front of their bench. Charlie found himself at the bottom of a pile of sweaty Tiger players, all screaming and whooping it up. As the pile slowly lifted, he smiled to himself. Looks like you were able to motivate them after all, he thought to himself.
Charlie skated out to the center circle to await the drop of the puck. He tried to remember the breathing exercises again, but he couldn’t. All he could think about was the last twenty minutes and winning the game. He shook his head as the ref skated over.
“All right, guys. This is it. I want the last twenty to go the same way the first forty have gone.” He blew his whistle and Charlie took a deep breath. As he dropped the puck, Charlie leapt forward and took the puck. He slapped it over to Doug, who skated forward and slapped it around the boards. Charlie skated down into the corner, chased by a Jesuit player. He got to the puck and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the defenseman as he slammed into the boards. Charlie skated around him and passed it back to the top of the offensive zone, where Bill was waiting.
Bill took the pass and hovered along the blue line, all the while keeping the puck onside. Doug worked himself open and Bill passed the puck back towards him. But a Jesuit player got in the middle and took the puck away. The teams skated back down the ice, Jake Chambers chasing down the player before he got onside and forced him into an offsides call. The ref whistled the play dead. As he did so, one of the Jesuit players tripped Doug up with his stick. As Doug got up, he lunged towards the player, who was skating away. Bill grabbed him before he could get there.
“Come on, man. Don’t be like me. Just make him pay on the next trip down the ice.”
“Let go of me, man. He tripped me, that sonofabitch.”
“Let it go, Doug. Let it go.” Bill skated back to his position as Doug went to line up for the face off. Charlie was right. The last thing the team needed was a stupid penalty, and the last guy other then Charlie who should be drawing that penalty was Doug. The ref dropped the puck again, and off they went. Charlie lead the team down the ice, and after getting a nice feed from Doug, slapped one right through the five-hole to tie the score. They celebrated as the Prep crowd booed lustily.
“Great shot, bro, great shot!” Doug slapped his helmet as they skated back towards the bench.
“Yeah, but there’s too much time left in the game.” Charlie was right. There was still almost fifteen minutes left on the clock, and anything could happen in that time.
Anything turned out to be not much as the game neared the end of regulation. Charlie’s line got back into the game with about three minutes to go and the score still tied. They needed to do something, and fast, and as it turned out, something would happen just that fast. Charlie took a pass from Tommy Mack, Bill’s junior defensive linemate, and skated up ice. He knew that someone was following him, but he didn’t know who. As he looked to dump the puck off, he saw that it was Wilson. He dished off the puck to Doug and headed around behind the net. Wilson followed him, and the two of them tangled behind the net. As the ref turned to watch the play at hand, Charlie whacked Wilson’s leg with his stick. He was trying to draw Wilson into doing something stupid, and it worked. As Charlie skated out from behind the net, Wilson came up behind him and delivered a massive crosscheck to Charlie’s back, sending him sprawling towards the wall. He bumped the wall with his helmet, not hard enough to actually cause any injury, but enough to draw the whistle he was hoping for.
“Oh, come on, ref! He took a Goddamned dive.”
“Wilson, even a brick wall like Mr. Ryan over there would take a dive after getting checked as hard as you hit Ferris. Two minutes, number nine, crosscheck.”
“You bastard!” Wilson lunged towards Charlie, who had regained his feet and was strapping his helmet back onto his head. He managed to get through the linesman who tried to restrain him and took a swing at Charlie. His arm was stopped mid-swing by Bill, who swung him around and pushed him back.
“That’s it, damnit, that’s it! I’m taking back my game right now. Wilson, get the hell off my ice.” The ref skated over to the scorers’ box. “Number nine, Game Misconduct, unsportsmanlike conduct.”
Wilson went berserk, as did the Jesuits coach. He came out onto the ice and began arguing with the ref as both linesman restrained Wilson and pulled him off the ice towards the locker room. The Prep side of the arena began showering the ice with cups and other litter. Charlie just stood back and watched it all. This wasn’t quite what he had in mind, but it worked okay for him as well.
Doug skated by him. “Nice touch. Nothing like a little outside assistance to get by.” Charlie just laughed at him.
After a ten-minute delay while the Civic Center crew cleaned off the ice and a security detail fanned out to the stands to form a protective barrier between the Tiger and Jesuit fans, the game restarted. Immediately, the impact of Wilson’s ouster and the delay of the game was felt as Charlie and Doug took the faceoff right down into Prep’s end and Charlie blasted a slapper past the dazed Jesuit goalie to take the lead. A minute and a half later, with the Jesuit net empty so that they could have an extra skater, Bill managed to clear the puck the entire length of the ice and into the net to put a capper on it all. Twenty seconds later, the Jesuits were skating dejectedly off the ice as the Tigers celebrated in front of their bench. Charlie found himself at the bottom of a pile of sweaty Tiger players, all screaming and whooping it up. As the pile slowly lifted, he smiled to himself. Looks like you were able to motivate them after all, he thought to himself.
