Travis Lindsay thought he knew what a great roar was. But he had no idea. What he had heard during his introduction, what he had heard during the presentation of Sarah’s sweater, was nothing compared to the roar that went up when they announced the Most Valuable Player for the C division of the Quebec International Peewee Tournament.

“…WAYNE NISHHHHHHI-KAAWWAAAAAA!”

Players on both sides began banging their sticks on the ice in tribute. The fans, every single one of them, were already on their feet, cheering, screaming, yelling. The noise was deafening.

“Oh no!” Nish said, as he spun in a frantic circle beside Travis.

“What?” Travis asked.

Then he saw.

The MVP award was to be presented by Paul Kariya. The NHL star had a large silver trophy in his arms, and he was smiling in Nish’s direction.

“I can’t go!” Nish said.

“Get over there!” Travis shouted, hoping he could be heard above the cheering.

Reluctantly, red-faced, Nish laid his stick down at his feet and then his gloves. He took off his helmet, the cheers rising, and handed it to Travis, then skated slowly over to where Paul Kariya was waiting with the trophy.

Nish was beet red by the time he got there.

Paul Kariya reached out, shook his hand, and gave him the trophy. Then he grabbed Nish and hugged him, the crowd erupting with an even greater cheer.

Travis could see Paul Kariya whispering something in Nish’s ear. Perhaps he was shouting. He would have to shout to be heard above this.

Nish came back, redder still, but smiling. He raised the MVP trophy as a tribute to the crowd, then to the Beauport team, which made the cheering fans go wild.

“What’d he say to you?” Travis said as Nish gathered his gloves back up.

“Who?” Nish asked.

Travis couldn’t believe it. “Paul Kariya! What did he say?”

“Oh, that,” Nish said nonchalantly. “Just, ‘Nice game, cousin.’ That’s all.”

Travis looked at him in shock. Nish was grinning from ear to ear, both arms around his trophy.

 

They had brought the championship trophy out on the ice. A swarm of officials had gathered, and the man in the blue blazer with the microphone was moving towards the shining silver cup.

Travis could hear his name being called. He could hear the crowd cheering him as he skated.

But he wasn’t thinking at all about being captain, or about the cheers. He wasn’t even thinking about how, so many years ago, “Terrible Ted” Lindsay of the Detroit Red Wings had hoisted the Stanley Cup high above his head and thus established a grand tradition for victorious team captains ever since.

Travis would do all that. And he would then hand it off, first to Sarah, and then Nish. He knew he would be bringing Monsieur and Madame Dupont, his billets, out on the ice so they could hold it too. He knew that he would ask for a photograph of him and Nicole with it, something to have that would forever remind him of this wonderful, miraculous moment.

But before any of that he had something else to do. He tried to clear his mind and think only of what Sarah and Nicole had taught him since that moment they dragged him off to “school.”

He had shaken the officials’ hands. He had the championship trophy in his arms. But now he reached for the microphone.

The man in the blue blazer seemed a little surprised, but he smiled and handed it over.

Travis cleared his throat. He knew the roaring was dying down, the cheers were stopping. They were quieting down to hear what he had to say.

His hand was shaking as he brought the microphone up to his face.

“Merci beaucoup, mes amis,” he began.

“C’est pour moi et les autres Screech Owls le plus grand honneur des nos vies de hockey…”

He continued without hesitation, his mind remembering perfectly the words and pronunciations that Nicole and Sarah had drilled into him.

He thanked the fans.

He thanked “le magnifique” team standing opposite, the Beauport Nordiques.

He thanked the Quebec Peewee Tournament organizers.

He thanked the City of Quebec.

He could have gone on. But no one–not any of the players on the ice, not Muck or any of the coaches, not one of the ten thousand fans–would have heard a word Travis Lindsay was saying over the enormous roar that went up.

The loudest roar of a most extraordinary day.

 

THE END