Breakout

Chris Larabee entered the bullpen where the other 6 members of his team were working. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of JD attempting to type one-handed, getting increasingly frustrated that he wasn't even close to his normal typing speed of 80 wpm. He'd broken his wrist earlier in the week, after Buck had taken him out on one of his infamous drinking binges - even Chris had been known to fall over on one of them - and JD had tripped over the sidewalk. He'd insisted it didn't hurt, that is, until the alcohol had worn off and it had turned several shades of black and blue.

Clearing his throat, he gained the attention of the six men.

"Any of you any good at ice hockey?" he asked.

The six men sat staring at Chris as if he had gone mad. This was not what they had expected to hear at all.

"Uh . . . what?" asked Buck.

"Buck and I used to play together in college. JD, you're in no condition to play." Chris continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "You ever play, Vin?"

"Uh . . . yeah, a little bit." Vin replied warily. "Stayed up in Canada for a bit while I was travelling, got into it then."

"Good. Josiah?"

"Used to play when I was younger. A lot younger."

"That'll do. Nathan?"

"Yeah. I played in college, too."

"Ez?"

"I have been known to wield a stick in my time, Mr Larabee. Why do you ask?"

"Just had Judge Travis on the phone. Seems it's the finals of the Denver Little League competition, and the Judge reckons it'd be good to get some publicity going. It'll pull a big crowd, lots of proud parents and all that, so he wants to stage an ATF match, wondered if Team 7 wanted in on it. I told him 'yes.'"

"A match? Cool! It's such a bummer I can't play, I love hockey," whined JD.

"Well, you could probably referee if you wanted, JD," said Chris.

"Really? Wicked!"

"So you all up for it?" he asked his team.

Everyone seemed to be in agreement.

"Good. Meet at the ice rink 9 am Saturday."

Saturday morning came, and the 7 men arrived at the rink. It was jam-packed full of people, all excited about the final, but all looking forward to the ATF match as well. Judge Travis had gone to town publicising it.

Chris led them to the changing room, and the all sat down to hear what Chris had to say.

"Okay, the final is at 10 am, then there'll be a break for lunch, and we face off at 2 pm. I want you all ready to go out on the ice to warm up at 1 pm. Until then, you're free to enjoy yourselves."

"So who's the opposition?" asked Nathan.

"Team 8," said Chris.

"Ah hell!" said Vin. "You do know who they've got on their team, don't you?"

"Who?" asked JD.

"Pete Darwin - he's real fast, and Kip Becker - the meanest son-of-a-bitch you ever did see. We're gonna die."

"What's our team going to be?" asked JD.

"Well, I've been thinking about it, and I reckon it's best to play a diamond formation. We'll have Vin top diamond, Buck left, Ezra right, and Nathan bottom diamond. Josiah defence, and me goaltender. That suit everyone?"

Everyone nodded. "I didn't know you played goalie, Chris," remarked JD.

"Oh yeah, Chris is the best goddamned goalie you ever did see, son," said Buck. "But you should have seen him when he first started playing. C'mon, let's go grab a burger and I'll tell you some stories."

"Buck-" Chris warned.

Turning in the doorway, Buck said "Oh, don't worry Chris. I won't tell him the worst ones, like the time you fell on your ass during the warm-up."

At ten minutes before two, Team 7 came off the ice, ready to be introduced. Team 8 was introduced first, and We are the Champions was played through the speakers as they took to the ice amidst cheers from the crowd.

"Humph. Someone's optimistic," said Buck.

Then it was Team 7's turn, and they all heard the theme from the film The Magnificent Seven being played loudly.

"Someone's got a sense of humour, too," remarked Vin, as they too took the ice.

Introductions were made, each member getting a huge cheer from the crowd. JD could have sworn Chris got the biggest cheer, but with his black pads, shirt and helmet, he did look a formidable figure. The rest of Team 7 played in red, in deference to Ezra. Team 8 played in navy blue. Each team took up their positions. JD was the second referee. They were playing 3 ten minute stop-time periods, instead of the usual 3 twenty minute periods, because there was only one line per team, and twenty minutes would have been too tiring.

Vin went up to the face-off circle, and swore when he saw Number 17-Becker-also approaching. The referee went to the centre, threw down the puck, and the game began. Instead of going for the puck, Becker threw his shoulder into Vin and knocked him over, and then passed the puck back to his team. The crowd booed, but Team 8 carried on regardless. Darwin took the puck, and set off towards the goal. Buck, playing in number 69, tried to tackle him but Darwin merely side-stepped and went past him. Nathan also tried to tackle him, but Darwin was too fast, and Team 7 looked on in horror as he shot on goal, straight into the glove of Chris Larabee. Chris quickly passed the puck out to Ezra who was waiting on the wing, and off he went. Ezra was surprisingly a very good player, with a very distinct, upright skating style. Instead of long, sweeping strides, he took quick, small steps and had amazing puck control-just like in cards. He easily dodged the defenders, and forced the keeper to made a diving save. All this had taken place just 15 seconds from face-off, and the crowd was loving it.

However, things soon got worse. Team 7 realised that, apart from Darwin, Team 8 was relying on brute strength to win this game. The remaining four put in hard body-checks whenever they could, effectively sitting on Team 7 and not allowing them to get anywhere with the puck. Then Darwin would pick up the puck and head straight for the goal while most of Team 7 were on the ice recovering from the hard hits. Chris made save after save, and seemed impenetrable so Team 8 changed to another tactic. At the next face off, Becker again knocked Vin over, but this time took the puck on himself. Barging through the challenges rather than around them, he reached the goal area. Laying off the puck to just behind him, he kept going . . . straight into Chris. He knocked him off his feet, and while Chris lay entangled in Becker another player easily slotted the puck into the goal.

All of Team 7 were thankful when the buzzer went signifying the end of the period, and battered and bruised they headed for the box 1-0 down.

Chris was mad.

"What the hell is going on out there? You're letting them walk all over you!"

"Well they're hardly playing fair, Mr. Larabee," said Ezra.

"Yeah, they're killing us, man!" added Buck.

"And you're letting them! Okay, so they're playing hard, but that doesn't mean we let them beat us. They hit you hard, hit 'em back! They got one good player and four brutes, we've got a team, don't you forget that. That's our strength-we're a team, so let's use that!"

"Alright!" chorused the other five, and they began the next period with renewed enthusiasm.

Vin was again facing Becker at the face-off, but this time he was ready for him. When the puck hit the ice, Becker went forward to put his shoulder into Vin, but Vin responded by putting his shoulder lower, and allowing Becker to go over the top of him. Vin straightened, flipping Becker over. The crowd cheered. Buck got the puck, checking the player who challenged him, passing the puck to Ezra, who fired a slap shot at the goalie, but it was saved. Team 8 took the puck forwards, but Josiah was waiting with a massive body-check, which stopped the player dead in his tracks, and he ended up on the floor. The rest of the period continued in the same manner, and at the end, battered and bruised, but elated, the score unchanged, they returned to the box.

"Alright!" whooped Buck. "That's more like it!"

"Hell, yeah. We sure gave them some of their own medicine," said Nathan.

"Great, guys, but we still gotta get some goals if we want to win this. Now we're playing tough, but we're still not using the whole team. It's been a physical game so far, so they're getting tired. Let's make the puck work for us, let the puck do the work, and score some goals!"

"Yeah!" they chorused.

Becker again faced-off against Vin, but this time Vin quickly stole the puck and passed it out to Buck. Buck took it up the wing, and laid it back to Nathan. Nathan squared it to Josiah, and Josiah passed to Ezra. Ezra took it over the blue line, but the were too many defenders to beat. Taking it right over to left side of the ice, he then passed it right to Vin who was waiting on the blue line with a clear path to the goal. Winding up, he hit it at the top right of the goal so fast the goalie never even saw it. It seemed Vin's aim was not only good with a rifle. The crowd went nuts.

Judge Travis smiled to himself as he watched Team 7 celebrate, and listened to the elation of the crowd. This was why he had wanted Team 7 to play in this game. Although they didn't realise it, they pleased crowds wherever they went and this was just the kind of publicity he wanted.

Play continued, with both teams trying to get the upper hand on the other, but both wanted to win and were determined to do so. With minutes left on the clock, Darwin got the puck and took it over the blue line. Nathan was in pursuit, and then all of a sudden Darwin was on the ice-he had tripped over his own feet. But the referee signalled a penalty. The crowd was livid, as were Team 7 and JD. JD confronted the referee. "What are you doing? That wasn't a penalty! I was nearer than you were and I saw it-he tripped!"

"Shut up, kid. You don't even understand this game, so back off and let someone who knows what they're doing run things."

JD was incensed. He couldn't believe this referee was cheating, but there was nothing he or anyone else could do.

Surprisingly, it was Becker who lined up to take the penalty, not Darwin. The pressure was really on, as Chris prepared to face him. Becker began his approach, but instead of getting close and trying to deke the goalie, he got just over the blue line and stopped. Winding himself up, Chris realised what was coming and got ready for the massive slap shot. Becker hit the puck with a loud crack, using all the strength in his massive arms, and the puck went so fast it was barely visible. Chris flung both arms out, and dropped down to the butterfly position. The rink was silent. Everyone was thinking the same thing.

Where was the puck?

Chris carefully got to his feet, staring at Becker the whole time. Slowly, he opened his catcher, and threw the puck in the air. The crowd went insane, cheering for Chris, and his team skated forward to congratulate him. They were so happy they knocked him off his feet, and they all heard him hiss in pain.

"Chris? What's wrong?" asked Nathan.

"I . . . I think he broke my hand."

"What?" they all said in unison.

"Let me look," said Nathan.

"No Nate, don't make a fuss."

"Don't make a fuss? You said you broke your hand, now take your glove off and let me look!"

"No, listen. We've got two minutes left, and no substitute goalie, so I can't go off. You start fussing over my hand and they'll realise something's up with it, and then where do you think they'll be aiming their shots?"

"He's right, Nate," said Vin. "Let's just carry on like nothings wrong. With only two minutes left, it's likely Chris won't have to make any more glove saves."

"Okay," agreed Nathan, and they all returned to their face-off positions as if nothing was wrong.

Chris silently cursed. He hadn't let on just how much it was hurting, else Nathan would never have let him play on and they would have lost.

Play was hard and fast for the next couple of minutes, and there were no clear chances for a goal, until Darwin broke away. He headed straight for Chris as if he was going to deke, but at the last second pulled it back and hit it hard towards the goal. Chris made the save on instinct, forgetting about his hand. As the puck hit the glove, he let out a strangled cry and fell to his knees.

Nathan had seen the shot, and knew what was going to happen. Hearing Chris cry out, he quickly skated to his side. "I knew this was a bad idea," he said. "You gotta go off now, Chris."

Nathan carefully removed the catcher, while Vin took off his helmet. Chris had gone white as a sheet, and he could barely see through a pain-filled haze in front of his eyes. He knew he was done. Vin and Nathan helped him to the side. Looking up at the board, they saw the clock had stopped with ten seconds to go. Buck called a time out.

"Now what?" he said.

"We gotta score. We have to," said Vin.

"But if they get it, we've lost with no goaltender. No way they'll miss," said Josiah.

"Okay, so we get it and keep it and score," said Buck.

"Easier said than done, pard," said Vin.

"Give it . . . to Ezra," gasped Chris.

The four men turned to look at Chris, where Nathan was tending to his hand.

"What?" asked Buck.

"Vin, pass it back from the face-off, then when they all rush forward, slot it forward to Ezra. He'll score."

"Uh . . . Mr Larabee, don't you think you're putting a little too much faith in me?" stammered Ezra.

Chris looked him in the eye. "I don't know. Am I?"

Ezra returned the gaze. He smiled. "No. No you're not. Come on gentlemen, we've got a hockey game to win."

Nathan finished applying the ice to Chris' hand. "Hold this here. See you in a bit." He smiled.

Team 7 returned to the ice, the crowd cheering for them. They had decided a long time ago which team they wanted to win.

Becker squared up to Vin and smiled. "Looks like it's all over for you guys. Not so magnificent now, are ya?"

"Let's see if you're still smiling in ten seconds," Vin growled.

10 . . . The puck went down.

9 . . . Vin quickly passed it back to Nathan, who started skating backwards towards his own goal.

8 . . . .Buck, Vin and Josiah went with him.

7 . . . . Seeing their chance, Team 8 surged forward, seeing only the chance to win and not noticing Ezra hanging back.

6 . . . Nate squared it to Josiah.

5 . . . Josiah hit it with all his might up the ice, off the boards.

4 . . . Ezra picked up the puck behind the line of Team 8.

3 . . . Ezra headed towards the goal, team 8's goalie headed out towards Ezra, a one-on-one situation.

2 . . . Ezra deked the puck left . . . right . . . then left again.

1 . . . He shot.

The back of the net bulged just as the buzzer went. Team 7 whooped with joy as Ezra raised his stick above his head in celebration. The crowd were on their feet, clapping and cheering as if this had been a World Series. Team 8 could not believe it. They had lost. Team 7 could not believe it. They had won. Judge Travis patted himself on the back.

Team 7 all sat in Inez's bar, happily getting drunk. Buck and Vin smiled at the sight of JD and Chris sitting side by side, each with their left hand in plaster.

"Chris, you really shouldn't be drinking if you took any painkillers."

"That's okay, Nate. I didn't take any," Chris replied.

"What? You mean they didn't give you anything at the hospital?"

"No, I just chose not to take them. Told `em I'd work out my own painkiller," he said, toasting Nathan and downing another shot of whisky.

Nathan though about scolding him, telling him he'd suffer later, but decided what the hell, and toasted Chris with his own glass.

They had all been sitting in the bar for a few hours now, apart from Chris and Nathan who had only just returned from the hospital, and most were well on their way to falling over. JD shakily got to his feet.

"Gentlemen, I should like to propose a toast," he slurred.

The rest of the team cheered, and made sure their glasses were full.

Raising his glass, JD continued. "To one of the greatest hockey teams I've ever seen, although you would have been a whole lot better had I been playing..."

They jeered.

"...and, to a great bunch of guys, who I am proud to call my friends..."

"Guess who's at the emotional stage of drunkenness," Buck whispered to Vin.

"...to us!"

They all cheered, and raised their glasses.

"To us!"

The End