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Authors: David Skuy

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BOOK: Off the Crossbar
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A couple of shifts later, Charlie got an unpleasant surprise. Jake’s line was on the ice. Liam begged Jake to win the faceoff, so he could “kick some butt real quick and score some goals.” The faceoff was in the blue team’s end. Jake grinned at his friend and nodded, pointing back to
Thomas. As good as his word, he won the draw cleanly. The puck slid to Thomas, who promptly fired it around the boards behind the net to Liam. Liam was late getting over, however, and Charlie was able to pinch in from the point and shovel a pass into the corner for Zachary.

Liam took a run at Charlie, crushing him into the boards after he passed it. Charlie had been playing contact hockey since he was ten and was well schooled in the art of taking a hit. He pressed up against the boards, so that while Liam’s hit looked spectacular, Charlie hardly felt it, and more importantly, he kept his eye on the puck and stayed on his feet.

Zachary sent the puck behind the net to his centre, but Pudge made a nice defensive play, tying him up against the boards, holding the puck in his skates. Thomas whipped around the net and dug the puck out.

Thomas wired the puck around the boards to Liam again. Liam assumed he had lots of time, casually stopping it with his skate. But Charlie anticipated the play and Liam never saw him coming. He knocked the surprised winger off the puck, and carried it into the corner, looking for someone to pass to.

Jake had been covering Zachary in the high slot, as he was supposed to, but when Charlie got the puck Jake left his man and charged at him. Charlie waited until Jake had completely committed himself, and then sent a soft pass to Zachary. The centre had managed to extricate himself from Pudge’s grasp and had established himself down low in front of Alexi. Recognizing a screen, Zachary zipped a wrist shot to the top left corner.

Alexi didn’t have a chance. He barely moved to stop it, but luck was not on the red team’s side. A loud clang followed the shot. The puck hit the post, and it bounced harmlessly to the corner.

The first rule in hockey is simple. Keep your head up. Charlie broke that rule, first by watching his pass, and then by watching the shot. That’s why he didn’t see Jake and Liam come at him — and they took full advantage, delivering a thunderous check that drove Charlie backwards into the boards. Jake followed that up with an elbow to his jaw, while Liam added a nasty cross-check to his ribs for good measure.

Charlie lost it. Rather than skate back to the point, he stormed after Thomas, who had regained the puck behind the net. Thomas slid a pass back to Pudge, who one-timed it to Jake at the top of the circle. Charlie threw himself at Thomas, but Thomas saw him coming and neatly sidestepped the check. Charlie smashed into the boards and fell to the ice.

He looked up and groaned. Jake, Liam and Matt were charging up the ice, and he was lying on his back, totally out of position. The red forwards had been pressing when Charlie lost his temper and took a run at Thomas, so they were also caught behind the play.

Poor Scott was faced with a three-on-one. Jake, Liam and Matt bore down on him, as he backed up, furiously hoping to poke the puck away. He wouldn’t get the chance. Liam cut across the blue line and dropped the puck to Jake, who in turn sent it to a hard-charging Matt. Matt took the pass in full stride and cut sharply towards
the goal. Scott turned and tried to hold him up, but he had been caught off guard by Jake’s pass and was unable to stop him. Matt waited until the goalie had committed himself, and then shovelled a pass across the crease to a wide-open Liam. The mischievous winger didn’t put it in, however. With a big grin, he held the puck close to the line. The goalie and Scott dove at him together, and when they did, Liam slid the puck back across the crease to Jake, who slammed it into the net.

All the while Charlie could do nothing but watch. Everyone on the blue team’s bench leapt to their feet, cheering and banging sticks on the boards. He knew the goal was his fault. Jake and his crew had made him look like a fool. Neither coach was going to be impressed by his little temper tantrum, and Charlie wondered if he’d just blown his chance to make the team.

4
TWO-HAND TOUCH

Charlie walked down the hall. His math class had just ended, and he had lunch period next. He was getting familiar with the school, figuring out where things were and how everything worked. Lunch period was killer boring, though. He hadn’t made any actual friends yet, so he ate by himself. Then he would just wander outside until his next class. Yesterday, he’d gone to the library to study, but it was too nice to stay inside today. He sat down at an empty table and began to eat. He’d been one of the first to get to the cafeteria, so he was finished before most of the kids had even sat down. No sense waiting here, he thought, getting up to leave.

Charlie headed to the far end of the school, next to the parking lot. He’d already gone there a few times to wait for class to start. He liked it because it was out of the way — no one else ever seemed to be around. He’d feel awkward hanging out at the main field or in front of the school when he didn’t know anyone.

A small field bordered the parking lot, about forty
yards long. He picked up some stones and started tossing them at a large oak tree on the other side of the field. He had a good arm. Once he’d warmed up, he was hitting it almost every time. He heard voices coming towards the field.

“Okay, losers, you take the other end. Champions are always the home team.”

“One lucky win doesn’t make you champions, dude. It makes you ugly!”

“You want ugly, look in the mirror.”

Two kids pushed each other, and then one ran down the field, cutting hard to his left after ten yards.

“Hit me, Thomas. I’m so open it hurts.”

Thomas threw him the football. The receiver caught it and turned up field, pretending to elude tacklers. He jumped up in the air, spun, and spiked the ball over his head.

“I da man — I da man,” he said, celebrating his imaginary touchdown.

“Toss it back, Mike.”

Mike and Thomas threw the ball back and forth, while more boys piled onto the field.

“What are the teams?” Mike asked.

“Same as yesterday.”

“Then you guys have no chance, Tyler. It’ll be another crushing defeat.”

“You won on the last play of the game,” Tyler said.

“We just wanted to make it dramatic. We’ll win by ten touchdowns today.”

The boys divided themselves into two teams.

“Since we won so easily before, we’ll kick off,” said Mike, who had the ball. He walked towards the far end, where Charlie was standing.

Charlie didn’t know what to do. He’d look ridiculous watching guys play football. It was like advertising that he had no friends! But it would look just as ridiculous to walk away. He decided to wait until they started playing. Then he could sneak off without them seeing.

“Hey, we’ve only got four players,” Tyler said. “Where’s Dylan? I thought he was playing.”

“He said he was,” Mike said. “He must be afraid of losing again.”

“He knows we could win with four,” an opposing player replied.

“You couldn’t win with ten and a pack of killer attack dogs, Zachary.”

“Just kick the ball,” Zachary said.

Charlie recognized Zachary, the right winger at the tryout who’d impressed him with his skills.

Mike took a few steps towards Charlie. “Hey, you! We need another body. You play football — even a bit?” Charlie nodded. Mike turned to Zachary. “You take this guy. Now you got no excuses.”

“I know that guy,” Thomas said to Mike. “He’s a jerk. Let’s just play with the guys here.”

Mike shrugged. “I didn’t know. Too late now.”

Charlie had overheard Thomas, but didn’t say anything. He lined up next to Zachary.

Zachary recognized him also. “You were at the tryout, weren’t ya?” he asked.

“We played a few shifts together,” Charlie said. “You’re on the wing, I think.”

“That’s me. And I think you were on defence. Anyway, you played much ball before?”

He played during practically every recess at school last year. “A little, I guess.”

“Well, here are the rules. It’s eight-steamboat rush, with one guy on the line. Three for the field. Two-hand touch. No laterals, no running plays, and the quarterback can’t run. Kickoff from your goal line.”

“Sounds simple enough,” he replied.

Mike kicked the ball and his team charged after it. Zachary called for it, caught the ball near his own goal line, and took off down the right side. Thomas touched him after ten yards.

Charlie huddled up with the other players. Zachary joined them.

“Dylan’s not showing up,” Zachary said. “Who’s gonna throw?”

“I’ll do it,” said a short kid wearing a Dallas Cowboys jersey.

Zachary looked unhappy. “Okay, go for it, Ethan.”

Ethan rubbed his hands together. “Beautiful. Okay, guys.” He pointed at Charlie. “What’s your name?”

“Charlie Joyce,” Zachary answered for him.

“Okay, here’s the play,” Ethan continued. “Zach and Charlie go out to the right, Tyler and Alexander, to the left. Outside guys cut in — inside guys cut out. Do it at ten yards — on three.”

“Hut. Hut. Hut!”

On the third “Hut,” Charlie took off. He made his cut at five yards, figuring he’d go underneath Zachary. The defender covering him got tangled up with another player, and he was wide open, but Ethan didn’t throw to him. Instead, he forced the ball into tight coverage on the other side. Thomas stepped in front of Alexander and picked it off. He was touched immediately, but his team had the ball close to the goal line.

Ethan kicked at the ground, not saying anything. He pointed at Charlie.

“You rush the quarterback,” he said.

Charlie lined up over the ball. The worst player always rushed the quarterback, but he wasn’t going to protest, and it was more fun than standing by himself in an empty field.

“Ready, set, hut one, hut two, hut, hut.”

Thomas was the quarterback. He pump-faked, then rolled to his right, close to the line. Charlie guessed he would try a short, quick throw because they were so close to the end zone. On the third steamboat, when Thomas was about to throw, Charlie jumped, holding his arms up over his head. He anticipated it perfectly, and the ball hit his right arm, bouncing off to the side.

“Good play,” he heard someone say.

Zachary came over to slap hands.

“Nice job,” he said. “Let’s hold them here.”

Charlie felt much better. He’d shown he wasn’t just a pylon. He lined up and waited for the next play.

This time Thomas rolled to his left. Once more Charlie timed his jump perfectly, and he managed to tip
the ball enough to change its direction. The ball flew over Mike’s outstretched fingertips.

“How about throwing it past the guy?” Mike yelled at Thomas, who flushed and stomped to the huddle.

Zachary slapped Charlie’s back.

“You’re a one-man wrecking crew. Do it again and we get the ball back.”

Thomas took a deep drop on third down, so Charlie wouldn’t be able to block it. A wide-open receiver caught the ball a few yards over the line for a touchdown.

“See what happens when you don’t throw it at the rusher,” Mike said, giving Thomas a friendly punch on the arm.

“See what happens when you guys get open,” Thomas snapped.

They headed up field to kick off. Charlie waited on the goal line next to Zachary.

“We’ll get that back, boys. No problem. Let’s get a good return,” Ethan said.

Zachary moved close to Charlie. “We won’t be getting anything back, if he’s QB,” he said, whispering.

“Maybe he’ll do better now that he’s warmed up,” Charlie said.

“I doubt it. You’ve never seen him play.”

Ethan did slightly better. He didn’t throw an interception. His first throw was at Zachary’s feet, however, and the next one sailed ten feet over Tyler’s head. They were only fifteen yards from their end zone, and so had to punt on third down. Ethan insisted on kicking. He warmed up with a few practice kicks, and promptly
squibbed it off the side of his foot and into the parking lot.

Charlie volunteered to get it. He had to crawl under a car, but got the ball in short order. He then fired the ball to Thomas from the parking lot. Thomas grunted when he caught the tight spiral — Charlie had put some serious heat on the throw.

The other team huddled. Charlie lined up to rush. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You ever quartered before?” Zachary said.

“A little,” he said.

“How about you take over for the next set of downs.”

Charlie felt uneasy. “I think Ethan’s set on playing QB.”

“Good for him. I’m tired of playing on my own ten-yard line, and watching the ball hit my feet when I’m wide open.”

Charlie was about to tell him not to bother. He didn’t want Ethan to be mad at him — he had enough enemies. But Zachary took off to cover his man before he had the chance.

Thomas didn’t fool around. He tossed a strike to Mike to take them to the five-yard line. Then he rolled to his left and threw across his body to a player cutting back the other way.

“That’s 14–zip, for those of you keeping score. Let us know when you plan to complete a pass, and we’ll start trying,” Mike taunted Charlie’s team.

They lined up for the kickoff.

“Ethan,” Zachary called out. “How about we give
Charlie a chance to quarterback?”

“I’m just warming up,” he said. “We’ll drive down the field this time.”

“Let’s just give him one try. I’ve seen him play before. He’s got a good arm. And besides, we could use your speed on the outside.”

That quieted Ethan, but he still didn’t look happy. He glared at Charlie briefly. Charlie wished Zachary hadn’t done that. He also wondered why Zachary said he’d seen him play before. That wasn’t true.

After the kickoff, Charlie knelt down on one knee in the huddle, and cleared a patch of earth. With his finger he drew the play. “Ethan, you switch positions with Zachary. Run a ten-yard buttonhook. Zachary, cut around him and run a corner route, about fifteen yards. Alexander and Tyler, do the same thing on the other side. On two.”

Charlie snapped the ball and faded back. He looked left, and then rolled to his right. Ethan had run a lacklustre route, but Zachary was really moving and had beaten the defender. He threw the ball towards the sidelines. Zachary caught the ball in mid-stride, and set off downfield and into the end zone.

“Nice toss,” Tyler said.

“Something tells me we’ve found a new quarterback,” Alexander added.

Ethan didn’t say anything. He went back to the line and called for the ball.

Zachary ignored him. “I don’t suppose you can kick,” he said, throwing the ball to Charlie.

“I’ll give it a try.”

Ethan had assumed
he
would kick. With a deep scowl, arms crossed, he moved aside.

Thud
.

The ball soared high into the air.

“I got it,” Mike called. He misjudged Charlie’s towering kick, however, and the ball went over his head, slamming into the ground and through the end zone.

“Awesome kick,” Tyler said, offering a high-five. Charlie ran up with the others to play defence.

“Hey, little boys. Get ready for some real football players.”

Charlie saw Jake and Liam sprinting towards them. He groaned. Just when things were starting to go well.

Jake joined Mike’s team and Liam came onto Charlie’s side. Liam barely acknowledged him. He lined up opposite Jake. Charlie went back as rusher.

“Can this guy count to eight?” Jake said, pointing at Charlie.

“No. He goes to four twice,” Liam said.

The ball was snapped and the receivers took off. Charlie fumed while he counted. Those guys never missed a chance to abuse him. Grade nine was shaping up to be a nightmare.

Thomas completed two short passes, one to Jake and the other to Mike. On third down, they still needed twenty-five yards for a score. The bell rang to end the lunch period. “Last play,” Mike called.

Charlie steeled himself for a final rush. He desperately wanted to prevent a touchdown and shut Jake up. The ball was snapped and Charlie started counting.

“Six steamboat, seven steamboat, eight steamboat.”

His teammates had done a good job. Thomas hadn’t found anyone open. At eight, he rushed in. Thomas tried to spin away, but Charlie wasn’t fooled. He kept coming and touched Thomas in the back.

“I got you,” he said.

“One hand only,” Thomas said.

He hurled the ball to the corner of the end zone. Jake pushed Liam aside and jumped up to catch it.

“Major TD action,” he said, spiking the ball. “In your face, dude.”

“Pass interference,” Liam said.

“The ref didn’t call it, so no foul.”

Charlie interrupted. “I touched him before he threw it. No TD.”

“No chance. You only got me with one hand,” Thomas said.

“I got you with both, right in the back.”

“One hand — and besides, you crossed the line before eight,” Thomas said.

“I did not,” he said. “I got you.”

“You’re dreaming.”

Liam saw a chance to pick on Charlie, and immediately changed his tune.

“I never saw you touch him. You missed when he spun. And you gotta learn to count, cause you crossed at seven,” he said.

“How can you tell? You were halfway down the field.”

“I was close enough to tell that you didn’t come near him.”

“You wanna win that bad,” he said to Thomas, “then fine.”

“Do you need to have a good cry?” Jake said.

“I need to go to class,” he shot back.

Charlie headed to the school. He barely held his temper in check. All he wanted to do was wipe that smug look off Jake’s face — and Liam’s too. Thomas was just a liar. Charlie sacked him. What kind of guy cheats playing touch football at lunch?

“Wait up, Charlie.”

Zachary walked up beside him.

“I saw it all,” he said. “You got him — and he knows it.”

“Who cares,” Charlie said. “It’s just stupid.”

“It’s irritating, that’s what. You sacked him — and it was pass interference on Jake. No way that’s a TD. They act like it’s their game and they can do whatever they want.”

Charlie looked at Zachary with new respect. He changed the subject. “I assume you made the second tryout for the hockey team,” he said.

BOOK: Off the Crossbar
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