gruff voice said. It was Kevin, holding out a hand. “Come on! We’ve got just two minutes to put together a power
play!”
Jeff grabbed the hand and scrambled to his feet. “Thanks,” he said. But Kevin had skated off already.
For the next two minutes, the Blades tried to make the power play work. As the penalty time ticked down, it seemed they wouldn’t
be successful. Even though the Penguinswere down a man, they had everyone covered.
Then Kevin got control. With a quick glance up, he sent the puck skimming toward Jeff. Jeff stopped it. Seeing that he was
clear, he skated furiously in the direction of the Penguins’ goal.
Closer. Closer. He shuffled the puck back and forth with the tip of his stick. Chad raced parallel with him down the ice.
At the last possible second, Jeff flicked the disk across to the left wing. Chad simply let it ricochet off his stick toward
the goal.
The Penguins goalkeeper lunged for it. But he was too late. The puck hit the back of the net — and the Blades were up 2-0!
Jeff and Chad slapped high fives and cheered. Jeff looked for Kevin to thank him for feeding him the puck. But when he caught
his eye, Kevin just jerked his head up in acknowledgment and skated away.
Well, it’s not much, but at least he’s thawing a little, Jeff said to himself.
The Blades set up for the face-off. Jeff and the rest of the players tried their hardest to sweeten the lead. It was no use.
The Penguins played by the book, sticking to their men like sand on a wet foot, stealing the puck every chance they could,
and passing with finesse. By the end of the second period, they had inched up on the Blades with two goals of their own.
“You can take these guys,” Coach Wallace assured them at a break. “Let’s see some energy out there!”
But those two Penguin goals had dulled the Blades’ sharpness. There was no spark. There was no extra push. And most noticeably,
there were no words of encouragement on-ice. In fact, there was the exact opposite.
“C’mon, Chad, I’m way ahead of you!”Bucky Ledbetter yelled after his left wing passed the puck too far behind him.
“Shep, where’s the backup? Where’s the backup?” Chad cried when Shep failed to pick up a pass that had skimmed under Chad’s
stick.
“Can’t see! Can’t see!” Michael Gillis called frantically when a pile of players landed in a heap near the goal.
Only Jeff and Kevin were silent.
When the buzzer ended the last period, Jeff had had it. He couldn’t have cared less that their first game had concluded in
a tie. All he wanted to do was shower up, walk home, and sit in the peace and quiet of his bedroom.
Most of all, he wanted to stop thinking about dogs, mean notes, and friendships gone sour.
18
T wo days later, a dark cloud still hung over Jeff’s head. He struggled through his morning classes. At lunchtime, he sat with
the rest of the hockey team but didn’t say a word. When he was through eating, he mumbled something about having to go to
the library at free time afterward.
This day just can’t get any worse, he thought as he crouched among the racks of books, pretending to read a biography on a
famous hockey player.
But it did. Ms. Collins was back in class — and she wasn’t happy. She handed him hismake-up composition with a shake of her head.
As soon as he looked at it, he knew why she was upset. It was covered with green correction marks. There was no way he could
have received a passing grade.
She must think I didn’t even try! Jeff thought dismally.
Then the full magnitude of the situation hit him. If he didn’t get a passing grade, he could kiss his place on the hockey
team good-bye.
His heart started thudding. Desperately, he scanned the paper again. This time, he saw something he hadn’t seen before. He
looked more closely to be sure he wasn’t mistaken. Hp saw he was right.
The places he remembered correcting were wrong again. But more than that,
new errors
play!”
Jeff grabbed the hand and scrambled to his feet. “Thanks,” he said. But Kevin had skated off already.
For the next two minutes, the Blades tried to make the power play work. As the penalty time ticked down, it seemed they wouldn’t
be successful. Even though the Penguinswere down a man, they had everyone covered.
Then Kevin got control. With a quick glance up, he sent the puck skimming toward Jeff. Jeff stopped it. Seeing that he was
clear, he skated furiously in the direction of the Penguins’ goal.
Closer. Closer. He shuffled the puck back and forth with the tip of his stick. Chad raced parallel with him down the ice.
At the last possible second, Jeff flicked the disk across to the left wing. Chad simply let it ricochet off his stick toward
the goal.
The Penguins goalkeeper lunged for it. But he was too late. The puck hit the back of the net — and the Blades were up 2-0!
Jeff and Chad slapped high fives and cheered. Jeff looked for Kevin to thank him for feeding him the puck. But when he caught
his eye, Kevin just jerked his head up in acknowledgment and skated away.
Well, it’s not much, but at least he’s thawing a little, Jeff said to himself.
The Blades set up for the face-off. Jeff and the rest of the players tried their hardest to sweeten the lead. It was no use.
The Penguins played by the book, sticking to their men like sand on a wet foot, stealing the puck every chance they could,
and passing with finesse. By the end of the second period, they had inched up on the Blades with two goals of their own.
“You can take these guys,” Coach Wallace assured them at a break. “Let’s see some energy out there!”
But those two Penguin goals had dulled the Blades’ sharpness. There was no spark. There was no extra push. And most noticeably,
there were no words of encouragement on-ice. In fact, there was the exact opposite.
“C’mon, Chad, I’m way ahead of you!”Bucky Ledbetter yelled after his left wing passed the puck too far behind him.
“Shep, where’s the backup? Where’s the backup?” Chad cried when Shep failed to pick up a pass that had skimmed under Chad’s
stick.
“Can’t see! Can’t see!” Michael Gillis called frantically when a pile of players landed in a heap near the goal.
Only Jeff and Kevin were silent.
When the buzzer ended the last period, Jeff had had it. He couldn’t have cared less that their first game had concluded in
a tie. All he wanted to do was shower up, walk home, and sit in the peace and quiet of his bedroom.
Most of all, he wanted to stop thinking about dogs, mean notes, and friendships gone sour.
18
T wo days later, a dark cloud still hung over Jeff’s head. He struggled through his morning classes. At lunchtime, he sat with
the rest of the hockey team but didn’t say a word. When he was through eating, he mumbled something about having to go to
the library at free time afterward.
This day just can’t get any worse, he thought as he crouched among the racks of books, pretending to read a biography on a
famous hockey player.
But it did. Ms. Collins was back in class — and she wasn’t happy. She handed him hismake-up composition with a shake of her head.
As soon as he looked at it, he knew why she was upset. It was covered with green correction marks. There was no way he could
have received a passing grade.
She must think I didn’t even try! Jeff thought dismally.
Then the full magnitude of the situation hit him. If he didn’t get a passing grade, he could kiss his place on the hockey
team good-bye.
His heart started thudding. Desperately, he scanned the paper again. This time, he saw something he hadn’t seen before. He
looked more closely to be sure he wasn’t mistaken. Hp saw he was right.
The places he remembered correcting were wrong again. But more than that,
new errors
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