Travis had never been in such a game!

He had played in front of large crowds before–larger even than this one, which filled Big Hat–but never in front of a crowd that cheered every single thing that happened.

The biggest cheer, so far, had been when the crowd had first noticed Data coming out onto the ice, pushed by Mr. Dillinger. They had risen to their feet in a long standing ovation. Data had waved and smiled and probably wished it would be over with, but Travis knew how much this meant to his friend. The Japanese were all grateful for what he had done.

He had heard crowds cheer and boo before, but never one that seemed to find no fault with anything. They played no favourites. They did not boo the referee or the linesmen. They cheered the goals and the saves equally. They were cheering, he supposed, for hockey.

And the hockey was fantastic. The Screech Owls and the Lake Placid Olympians were evenly matched. Jenny was outstanding in the Owls’ goal, but so, too, was the little guy playing net for the Olympians. He had an unbelievable glove hand, and had twice robbed Dmitri on clean breakaways, the Screech Owls forward going both times to his special backhand move that almost always meant the goaltender’s water bottle flying off the top of the net and a Screech Owls goal.

Muck was matching lines with the Lake Placid coach, and he seemed to be enjoying the game as much as anyone. Mr. Dillinger was handling the defence door and Data the forwards’, so every time Travis came off or went on, he felt Data pat him as he passed.

Sarah’s line was on against the top Olympians’ line–Sarah the playmaker matched with Lake Placid’s top playmaker, a big, lanky kid with such a long reach no one seemed capable of checking him. The big playmaker had two good wingers, too, which meant that Travis had to pay far more attention to defence than offence.

Muck wanted them to shut down the big Lake Placid line. It made sense. Sarah was the best checker on the team, by far, when she put her mind to it–and when Sarah was sent out in a checking role, she seemed to take as much pride in stopping goals as she did in making them happen.

The Owls scored first when Andy’s line got a lucky bounce at the blueline. The puck hit some bad ice as it was sent back for a point shot and bounced over the defenceman’s stick and out to centre. Andy, with his long stride, got the jump on both defence and broke in alone. The Lake Placid goaltender made a wonderful stop on Andy, stacking his pads as Andy tried to pull him out and dump it into the far side, but the rebound went straight to little Simon Milliken, who found he had an empty net staring at him.

Two minutes later, the game was tied up. The big Lake Placid playmaker went end to end, losing Sarah on a twisting play at his own blueline and faking Wilson brilliantly as he broke in. The big Olympian dumped the puck in a saucer pass to one side of Wilson and curled around him on the other side, picking up his own pass to come in alone on Jenny. Two big fakes, and Jenny was sprawled out of the position and the puck was in the back of the net.

Between the first and second period, Muck told Sarah to step it up. “You’re taking your checking too seriously,” he told her. “If you have the puck, he can’t have it.”

Sarah knew what Muck meant. Her line started the second period, and she snicked the puck out of the air as it fell, sending it back to Wilson.

Dmitri broke hard for the far blueline, cutting toward centre.

Wilson hit him perfectly. Dmitri took the pass and sent it back between his own legs to Travis, who stepped into it as he crossed the blueline.

Sarah was slapping the ice with her stick. Travis didn’t even look. He flipped the puck into empty space, knowing she would be there in an instant–and she was.

Sarah was in free. The goaltender began backing up, preparing for a fake, but she shot almost at once, completely fooling the goalie and finding the net just over his left shoulder.

“That’s more like it,” Muck said when Sarah and Travis got back to the bench. He put a big hand on each player’s neck as they gathered their breath. Travis liked nothing better in the world than to feel Muck do that. The coach didn’t even think about it, probably, but it meant everything.

Andy then scored on a pretty play, sent in by Simon on a neat pass when Simon was falling with the puck. Andy went to his backhand and slipped the shot low through the sharp little goalie’s pads.

Into the third period, the Olympians began to press.

The big playmaker came straight up centre and swept around Sarah, who dived after him, her stick accidentally sweeping away his skates.

The referee’s whistle blew.

Travis cringed. The Owls could hardly afford to lose their best player just now. But Sarah was going off. The referee signalled “tripping” to the timekeeper, the penalty door box swung open, and Sarah, slamming her stick once in anger at herself, headed for it.

The crowd cheered politely. Travis giggled. He couldn’t help himself.

The Olympians needed only one shot to score on the power play. It came in from the point, and Jenny had it all the way, but just at the last moment the big Lake Placid playmaker reached his stick blade out just enough to tick the puck, and it changed direction and flipped over her outstretched pad.

Screech Owls 3, Olympians 2.

The Lake Placid team started to press even harder. Travis wondered if they could hold them back. If only they had Nish on the ice. If only Nish wasn’t sitting there, on the end of the bench, in his goalie gear…

The Olympians’ strategy was to crash the net, hoping to set up shots from the point like the one that had gone in on the power play. When the defence shot, the forwards tried to screen Jenny in front, attempting either to tip another shot or allow one to slip through without Jenny seeing it coming.

The game was getting rough, but the referee was calling nothing.

The right defenceman had the puck, and Travis dived to block the shot, shutting his eyes instinctively as he hit the ice.

He waited for the puck to crash into him–but nothing happened. When he opened his eyes, he saw the defenceman deftly step around him, closing in even tighter for the shot.

The defenceman took a mighty slapshot. Jenny’s glove hand snaked out. She had it!

But then the big playmaker crashed into her.

They hit, and Jenny gave, flying toward the corner, the big playmaker going with her and crashing hard on top of her into the boards.

The whistle blew.

Mr. Dillinger was already over the boards, racing and slipping on the ice, a towel in one hand.

Jenny was groaning. She was moving her legs but still flat on her back, the air knocked out of her.

“No penalty?” Jenny was asking the referee.

The referee was shaking his head. “Your own man hit him into her,” the referee said.

The referee was pointing at Wilson. Wilson didn’t argue. It was true. He had been trying to clear the big playmaker out from in front of the net, and he had put his shoulder into him just when Jenny made her spectacular save.

Travis glided in closer to Jenny. He was exhausted, his breath coming in huge gulps. He knew that this time, this game, he was covered in sweat.

Mr. Dillinger was leaning over Jenny.

He looked up, catching the referee’s eye.

“Just the wind knocked out,” he said. “But she’s hurt her arm, too.”

“You’ll have to replace her,” said the referee. “We have to get this game in.”

Mr. Dillinger winced.

Travis winced.

If Jenny couldn’t play, that meant only one thing.

Nish was going in!

 

Jenny was up and holding her arm cautiously. She had tears rolling down her cheeks, but whether that was from the pain or the fact that she couldn’t go on, Travis couldn’t say.

The big playmaker brushed by him, reaching out to tap Jenny’s pads.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “You played great.”

Jenny smiled through her tears. Travis could tell how much that meant to her, the best player she’d ever faced showing her that kind of respect. Travis was impressed. It was a very classy thing for the big Olympian to do.

“I’m ready,” Nish announced.

Muck didn’t seem convinced. But he had no choice. He stared long and hard at his new goaltender, who was standing in front of the bench, his mask on top of his head, spraying water directly into his face.

“Do what you can,” Muck said. “And don’t worry about it.”

But Nish was into it. He sprayed the water, spat another mouthful out, yanked down his mask as if he were a fighter pilot about to take off, jumped over the red line, jumped over the blueline, skated to where Mr. Imoo was standing, clapping, smashed his stick into the glass, then turned and headed for his net.

A quick few words with his goal posts, and he was ready to go.

Nish, the samurai goaltender.

It was over, Travis figured. They could barely hold the Lake Placid team with Jenny playing her best. How could they hold them off now with Nish in net? Nish, who didn’t know the first thing about playing goal.

“Let’s just get it over with fast,” Sarah said. “And hope we don’t embarrass ourselves too badly.”

The Lake Placid team seemed to take new energy from the fact that Nish was in net. Whether it was because they were impressed by his hot-dog moves or because they knew how weak he was, Travis couldn’t tell. But suddenly the Olympians were even stronger.

Sarah, however, had her own ideas. If Lake Placid was going to score, the big playmaker wouldn’t be the one to do it. She began playing as furiously as her opponent, sticking to him with every move, lifting his stick when he reached for passes, and stepping in his way whenever he tried for the fast break.

It didn’t seem to matter. The Olympians tied the game on their very first shot, a long bouncing puck from centre ice that skipped funny and went in through Nish’s skates.

“Oh, no!” Sarah said as they sat on the bench watching.

“This is going to get ugly,” said Travis.

Next shift, one of the quicker Lake Placid forwards broke up-ice, and the big playmaker put a perfect breakaway pass on his stick.

But Nish took the forward by surprise, coming out to block the shot like a defenceman instead of waiting on it like a goalie, and the shot bounced away harmlessly.

“Way to go, Nish!” Travis found himself yelling as he turned back up-ice.

Nish seemed to find himself over the next few minutes. It wasn’t pretty–it wasn’t like anything anyone had ever seen before–but it worked. He kicked, he turned backwards, he threw himself, head-first, at shots.

And not one got past him.

“That idiot’s playing his heart out!” Sarah said when her line came off for a rest.

“I know,” said Travis.

“We owe him a goal for all this, you know.”

“I know.”

Next shift, Sarah raced back to pick the puck away from Nish’s crease. He was flat on his back, looking like he was making snow angels instead of playing goal, and he cheered her as she took the puck out of harm’s way and up-ice.

“Do it, Sarah!”

Sarah played a quick give-and-go with Dmitri, who fed the puck back to her just as she hit the Lake Placid blueline. She slipped past the defenceman and curled so sharply in the corner, the other defenceman lost his footing and crashed into the backboards.

Travis had his stick down before he even imagined what he might do. It was as if his stick was thinking for itself. It was down flat and out in front of him, and Sarah’s hard pass hit it perfectly, a laser beam from the corner.

Travis didn’t even have to shoot–the puck cracked against his stick and snapped off it, directly into the open side of the Lake Placid net.

Travis had been mobbed before, but never like this.

He felt them piling on, one by one, and then the huge weight of the goaltender, who had skated the length of the ice to join the pile: the samurai goaltender.

“We did it! We did it! We did it!” Nish was screaming.

“We’ve done nothing yet,” corrected Sarah. “There’s still five minutes to go.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nish said. “I’ve got everything under control.”

 

It seemed he had. The game started up again with the Owls leading 4–3, and Nish took everything the Olympians could fire at him.

With a minute and a half to go, and a face-off in the Owls’ end, Lake Placid pulled their goaltender.

“Sarah’s line,” Muck said. “And nothing foolish. We protect the lead, okay?”

They understood. No trying for the grandstand empty-net goal. If it came, it came, but their first job was to protect Nish and the lead.

Sarah dumped the puck out, but not far enough for icing. Travis and Dmitri went on the forecheck, twice causing the defence to turn back.

They were killing the clock. So long as the Olympians couldn’t rush, the Owls didn’t care how long they held on to the puck.

The big playmaker circled back, picking up a puck the Lake Placid defence dropped for him.

He was in full flight.

Travis had the first chance and foolishly went for the poke check. One quick move of the big playmaker’s stick and he was past Travis and moving away from Dmitri.

Sarah stuck with him, leading him off along the boards and into the corner, where he stopped with the puck.

Ten seconds to go!

Sarah moved toward him and he backhanded the puck off the boards, stepping around her and picking the puck off on the rebound. A play worthy of Sarah herself.

He circled the net, Nish wrongly stabbing for the puck as he passed by the far side.

Nish’s goal stick flew away to the corner!

The big playmaker fired the puck to the point and crashed the net.

The shot came in. Nish kicked it away.

Wilson and Sarah hit the big playmaker at exactly the same time, sending him crashing into Nish, who fell hard.

Nish’s glove shot to the other corner!

Three seconds to go!

He had no stick. He had no glove.

And the defenceman was winding up for a second shot!

Travis had never seen Nish move so fast. In a flash he was back on his skates, crouching to face the shot.

The defenceman slammed into the puck, sending it soaring off his stick toward the net. Sarah dived, the puck clipping off her back and heading now for the top corner.

A bare hand snaked out, and the puck seemed to stop in mid-air!

The horn blew!

The Screech Owls had won the Junior Olympics!

After that, Travis could remember only bits of what happened.

The Screech Owls–Muck and Mr. Dillinger and Data included–had hit the ice instantly, racing to congratulate Nish, who simply sat back in his crease, holding the puck above his head as if it were some great trick he’d pulled out of his own ear.

They mobbed him.

The doors at the far end of Big Hat had opened up and an official delegation, led by Sho Fujiwara, came out. They were followed by a long line of women dressed in beautiful traditional costumes, each carrying a cushion, and each cushion holding a medal.

They had played the Canadian anthem, with the Canadian flag going up on a huge banner.

Everyone in the building had cheered.

After the anthem, the Lake Placid Olympians formed a line and shook hands with the Screech Owls.

Jenny went through the line with her right hand in a sling. When she came to the big playmaker, he dropped his sticks and gloves and hugged her.

There were cameras on the ice now, and they captured it all.

Nish was at the Zamboni entrance. He was hauling Mr. Imoo out onto the ice. Mr. Imoo, his missing teeth more noticeable than ever, was sliding and hurrying out to join in the celebration with his star pupil.

Nish took the puck he’d saved–“The Greatest Save in the History of International Hockey,” he would later call it–and gave it to Mr. Imoo, who seemed honoured.

“I caught it with the force shield,” he explained.

Travis, the Screech Owls captain, was now face-to-face with the big playmaker, the Lake Placid Olympians captain.

Travis looked up. The big playmaker was grinning. He looked as if he’d won himself.

“Great game,” he said.

“Maybe the best ever,” Travis said.

They shook hands.

“Ever see a crowd like this?” the big playmaker asked.

“Never.”

“We should do something for them,” the big playmaker said.

It took them only a moment to decide what.

They waited until the medals had been given out. Travis felt the gold around his neck and watched while the silver medals were awarded to the Lake Placid team.

Then, on a signal from the big Olympian, Travis motioned for all the Owls to skate to centre ice with him.

He went and got Muck, who came reluctantly. Mr. Dillinger pushed Data.

The big playmaker gathered all his team and coaches as well.

Then at centre ice they turned, first to one side of the rink, then the other, then the far ends, while the fans continued to stand and applaud.

And they bowed.

Arigato.

A thank-you to Japan.

 

THE END