Travis hit the crossbar during the warm-up. He would have a good game. The Owls were pumped for the match. Two of the local television stations were here to film the President’s son playing for the Wall.
“He comes one-on-one against me,” Nish said as they lined up for shots on Jenny, “I’m gonna let him beat me.”
“Is that your deal?” Sam called from the other side of Travis. “He gets to beat you, you get to streak his living room?”
Nish made like he was about to hurl on her.
“Get a life!” Sam shouted back as she jumped up to take a shot.
“She’s just jealous,” Nish hissed in Travis’s ear, “’cause I’ll be on TV and she won’t.”
The Wall were a fine team. They were coached by a former Washington Capitals player who’d stayed on in the area after he’d retired, and the team played excellent positional hockey.
They did not, however, have a playmaker to match Sarah, or anyone with quite the speed of Dmitri. The Owls quickly went up 2–0 on a goal by Dmitri on a breakaway, and by Travis on a nice tip off a shot from the point from Sam.
Travis was impressed with Chase Jordan. He had good speed and fair skills, but more than anything else he had unbelievable determination. He was the kind of player Muck liked best, the player who can deliver a better game than his skills would suggest, simply out of sheer will.
It took a while for the Washington Wall to find their game. They seemed intimidated by the Owls at first, but by the second period they had come to realize if they put a special checker – Chase Jordan – on Sarah, they could do much to neutralize the Owls.
“He’s good,” Sarah puffed as their line came off for a break.
Travis nodded. He heard the admiration in Sarah’s voice. She was different from most other good players, who showed their frustration at being checked. Sarah never got angry. She got even. She would figure out Chase Jordan.
The Wall tied the game at 3–3 and then went ahead 4–3 on a fluke goal that went in off Fahd’s skate.
Chase Jordan went off for tripping on the next shift, however, after hauling down Sarah when she gave him the slip. The cameras were right on him during the play and followed him into the penalty box. Travis was certain this would be the clip they’d be playing on the evening news.
“She shoulda got a penalty herself for diving,” Nish hissed as he and Travis circled, killing time before the faceoff.
Travis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nish was blaming Sarah for faking the trip, just so she could get on television instead of him.
Travis could sense what was coming. Nish was going “coast-to-coast” the second he got the puck. Nish knew that if the Owls scored while the President’s son was in the penalty box, it would become part of the story.
Sarah won the faceoff and sent the puck over to Travis, who chipped it back to Nish.
Nish turned back, leaving the checkers waiting. He went behind his own net, stickhandling slowly, and stopped.
Ridiculous, Travis thought. It looked to the crowd like Nish was figuring out the lay of the ice, but in fact all he was doing was waiting for the cameras to find him.
Satisfied, Nish began stickhandling out of his own end. Up to the blueline and over, where the first checker tried for him.
Nish faked a pass to Travis. The checker fell for it, and Nish stepped around him, moving to centre.
A second checker charged, but Nish deftly slipped the puck between the Wall player’s skates and picked it up on the other side.
Dmitri was breaking fast, pounding the ice for the pass that should have come.
But Nish wasn’t passing.
Dmitri broke over the line offside, braked so hard snow flew up towards the glass, and he cut back hard, straddling the blueline with one leg while he waited to see what Nish would do.
Nish changed speeds, moving quickly toward the blueline. The Wall defence backpedalled, moving in towards him to pinch him off if necessary.
Sarah was clear on the other side, but Nish ignored her.
Travis looped back, coming in behind Nish for the drop pass, but Nish ignored him.
Nish let the puck go, raised his arms, and drove like a bulldozer into the two defenders as all three came together. Both Wall defence went down, leaving Nish staggering slightly but still moving.
He raced for the puck just as the Wall goaltender decided to lunge for it with his stick.
Nish reached out at the same moment, and the puck popped between the two stick blades, rising high and spinning until it came down on the far side of the net.
Sarah was there, waiting.
The goalie sprawled helplessly as Sarah came in on the empty net. She tapped the puck in and spun into Dmitri’s arms.
Tie game, 4–4!
All the Owls on the ice converged on Sarah, slapping her helmet and pounding her on the back. All but Nish, who lightly tapped her shin pads and spun away.
“Glory hog!” he hissed back.
The Owls moved ahead to stay on a sweet goal by Simon, a hard blast by Andy, and a weird “knuckler” from the blueline by Wilson.
The clock was ticking down fast, with the Owls ahead 7–4, when, in the dying moments, Chase Jordan swept the puck away from Sarah and ended up all alone with it at centre ice.
Sarah had fallen when Chase Jordan checked her, so she was out of the play. Dmitri and Travis were too far down the ice to get back in time. Fahd, the other Owls defence, was out of position and scrambling to get back.
It was Chase Jordan against Nish. One on one.
Chase Jordan came over the blueline, with only Nish between him and the net. He set to shoot, no doubt hoping to blast a screen shot that Jenny wouldn’t see until too late.
Nish fell to block the shot, spinning towards Chase.
Chase seemed surprised – Nish had gone down too soon.
He checked his swing and drew the puck back again with his blade, out of Nish’s reach.
Nish spun helplessly towards the boards.
Chase moved in quickly. Forehand, backhand, forehand, backhand again.
Jenny went for the fake, guessing.
Chase held, the side of the net opening up.
He looped a high backhand in under the crossbar, sending the water bottle sailing as high as if Dmitri himself had taken the shot.
The horn blew. The whistle blew. The Wall bench emptied, every player charging Chase Jordan for his spectacular goal.
The cameras were racing out onto the ice.
Forget the penalty, forget the girl the President’s son had tripped – this was the shot for the evening news! The Owls had won 7–5, but anyone who walked into the building at that moment would think the Wall had won the Stanley Cup.
The Owls each rapped Jenny’s pads and then lined up to shake hands with the Wall who were still celebrating.
Travis found himself lining up right behind Nish. He couldn’t help but ask. “You didn’t, did you?”
Nish turned, face red, eyes wide. “What?” Nish asked, as if he had no clue what Travis meant.
“Let him do that?”
Nish grinned, ear to ear. “What do you take me for?”
Travis couldn’t be bothered answering.
It would take forever.