Page 28 of Pucking the Team
“No thanks.”
“He certainly gets the ladies’ attention,” she went on, “and seems to enjoy it. How many he takes to bed, I have no idea.” She popped in her gum and chewed.
I watched Eduardo skate a lap, waving at the crowd, punching the air with his stick and generating wild cheers and roars of passion. Seeing him now, he was a long way removed from the thoughtful, gentle man who had brought me breakfast and talked about beauty being only skin deep.
“There’s Mike,” Fiona said. She nodded to the edge of our box.
A guy in a Vipers jacket and cap stood with Gina. They appeared deep in conversation.
“He’s head coach, has been for ages, and bloody good at his job.”
“He must be, they won the league last season, right?”
She laughed. “You’re right. Well done.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the jungle!” a commentator roared.
An ear-splitting cheer went up.
“Tonight, prepare to feast your eyes, mop your brows, and cheer on your team, because when Devils and Vipers clash, you know it’s going to be a brutal, heart-wrenching battle for victory. These two teams have iced up their best guys, and this final tour game is set to be one with bite.”
The players took up their positions. I managed to read all the jerseys. Two Evans, Dubois which I now knew was Eduardo, Lewis, Arefyev, and Reed. Three of my four guys.
What was I doing? They werenotmy four guys. They were just four men who had been kind to me. I needed to get a grip.
“Face-off.” Gina pointed to the center of the rink. “It’s time.” She held her gloved hands up and crossed her fingers.
Lewis, in his red jersey, stood with a Devils player in white along with the ref. Suddenly, the puck was dropped and an explosion of energy burst into all the players and they scattered wildly.
Reed, who was minding the net, swayed and jigged as he watched the movement of the small black puck. How he could see it amazed me, it went so fast, almost at bullet speed.
The Vipers’ captain, Rick Lewis, had the puck, and he raced along the right side of the rink, tapping it in front of him.
“Go, Rick!” Gina clapped and sat on the edge of her seat. “Get it in.”
I held my breath. Two Devils players gained on him, then one shoulder-barged him against the side.
“What? Are they allowed to…?”
“Yeah,” Gina said. “They are…”
“Wow.”
Both Ben and Theo were there to help Rick, and they spun with their sticks hooking into the foray.
“And they’re really head to head in a checking role…oh, and here’s Dubois, circling it back,” the commentator boomed with excitement. “And yes, he’s got it and he’s…oh, and that was fast.”
A Devils’ player had stolen it from Eduardo in the blink of an eye. Eduardo did not seem pleased, and he chased down the player.
The crowd went wild, many on their feet as they clapped and whooped.
“And there goes Jones, and he’s set up for a shot. Will this be…oh, and he just wasn’t fast enough for Dubois, and he’s lost it, and look at him go…no wonder he’s the highest-paid French player in history, the man is a machine.”
“Go, Eduardo!” Fiona yelled.
“Go. Go. Go,” I added, falling into the excitement of the game.
Morgan, a Devils’ player, suddenly appeared in Eduardo’s path, stick at the ready, shoulders hunched and his body a brick wall.
