and fired
from midzone, sending it between the pads of the sprawling goalie. Score!
The half ended with the Skates swarming Marty, their hero. He had gotten them back into the game with his last-minute goal,
just ahead of halftime.
“That was some pass, Kirby,” he said, slapping Kirby five. “Guys, I think we’ve got a player here.”
“Listen, you guys on defense have got to stand your ground,” Lainie complained. “I’m getting killed out there.”
“They’re too much bigger than Jamal and Kirby,” Marty said. “And Nick, you’ve got to stay back to help.”
“But you guys weren’t getting any shots off!” Nick protested.
“He’s right,” Marty said. “We need more muscle on defense and more speed on offense. Kirby, you ready to play forward?”
“Definitely!” Kirby said excitedly. It was the chance he’d been waiting for all week.
“Good. I’ll put in some time on defense. I’m big enough to get in their way.”
“Thank goodness,” Lainie muttered, nodding in approval.
“Will you lay off?” Trevor told her.
Lainie blinked. “You’re right,” she said, backingoff. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little scared is all. They shoot hard.”
“It’s okay,” Marty said. “We’re all a team, and that’s how we win. Put your hands in here.”
They all put their hands together and shouted, “Go… Skates!” It was time for the second half.
The new strategy worked, in a way. The Bad Boys had no success getting the puck past Marty, but on the other hand, Kirby and
Trevor were unable to get off any good shots.
Actually Kirby never got to see much of the puck. Trevor, not knowing if Kirby was any good, was hogging the puck, and getting
it stolen by the Bad Boys time after time.
“I’m open! I’m open!” Kirby would shout. But Trevor, when he could have easily passed to him, didn’t even try. Instead, he
took wild shots.
Kirby realized that if he was ever going to get a shot, he’d have to get the puck on his own. He decided to try to make a
steal in the forward zone.
Before he could succeed, however, he wassubbed for, and Marty went back to playing forward, inserting Jamal on defense. Suddenly Kirby was back on the bench.
Then, about halfway through the period, Marty went down. He tripped over the same crack in the pavement that had surprised
Trevor in the first half and landed hard on his right shoulder. He lay there on the asphalt, writhing in pain. Play came to
an instant stop.
“My shoulder! My shoulder!” Marty was crying. His parents were kneeling down next to him in an instant, and other parents
were asking everyone to back away and give them room.
“It might be dislocated,” Mr. Bledsoe said. “We’d better get him to the emergency room. Can you get up, son?”
Marty got to his feet, still whimpering, his arm hanging limp, as the stunned Skates looked on silently. He skated over to
the gate and got into his parents’ car with them. The Bledsoes sped off.
“Whoa, man!” Trevor said. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
“Marty’ll be okay,” Lainie said, sounding not too sure of herself. “The question is, will we be okay without him?”
They all looked at each other anxiously as the Bad Boys started calling to them to resume the game or forfeit.
Trevor took over as acting captain. “Okay, Kirby, you’re in at forward again. Let’s go. Let’s win it for Marty!”
With a yell, they took their positions. The puck was dropped, and Trevor won the faceoff, sending it back to Nick at the blue
line.
“Nick! Here!” Kirby shouted. “I’m open!”
Nick passed it toward him, but the Bad Boys had heard Kirby shouting. Spike intercepted the puck, speeding the other way.
Kirby leapt into action, skating so fast that he overtook Spike just as he raised his stick for a slap shot. Reaching underneath,
Kirby swept the puck onto his stick, and Spike fired nothing but air!
Kirby was already across the blue line by thetime
from midzone, sending it between the pads of the sprawling goalie. Score!
The half ended with the Skates swarming Marty, their hero. He had gotten them back into the game with his last-minute goal,
just ahead of halftime.
“That was some pass, Kirby,” he said, slapping Kirby five. “Guys, I think we’ve got a player here.”
“Listen, you guys on defense have got to stand your ground,” Lainie complained. “I’m getting killed out there.”
“They’re too much bigger than Jamal and Kirby,” Marty said. “And Nick, you’ve got to stay back to help.”
“But you guys weren’t getting any shots off!” Nick protested.
“He’s right,” Marty said. “We need more muscle on defense and more speed on offense. Kirby, you ready to play forward?”
“Definitely!” Kirby said excitedly. It was the chance he’d been waiting for all week.
“Good. I’ll put in some time on defense. I’m big enough to get in their way.”
“Thank goodness,” Lainie muttered, nodding in approval.
“Will you lay off?” Trevor told her.
Lainie blinked. “You’re right,” she said, backingoff. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little scared is all. They shoot hard.”
“It’s okay,” Marty said. “We’re all a team, and that’s how we win. Put your hands in here.”
They all put their hands together and shouted, “Go… Skates!” It was time for the second half.
The new strategy worked, in a way. The Bad Boys had no success getting the puck past Marty, but on the other hand, Kirby and
Trevor were unable to get off any good shots.
Actually Kirby never got to see much of the puck. Trevor, not knowing if Kirby was any good, was hogging the puck, and getting
it stolen by the Bad Boys time after time.
“I’m open! I’m open!” Kirby would shout. But Trevor, when he could have easily passed to him, didn’t even try. Instead, he
took wild shots.
Kirby realized that if he was ever going to get a shot, he’d have to get the puck on his own. He decided to try to make a
steal in the forward zone.
Before he could succeed, however, he wassubbed for, and Marty went back to playing forward, inserting Jamal on defense. Suddenly Kirby was back on the bench.
Then, about halfway through the period, Marty went down. He tripped over the same crack in the pavement that had surprised
Trevor in the first half and landed hard on his right shoulder. He lay there on the asphalt, writhing in pain. Play came to
an instant stop.
“My shoulder! My shoulder!” Marty was crying. His parents were kneeling down next to him in an instant, and other parents
were asking everyone to back away and give them room.
“It might be dislocated,” Mr. Bledsoe said. “We’d better get him to the emergency room. Can you get up, son?”
Marty got to his feet, still whimpering, his arm hanging limp, as the stunned Skates looked on silently. He skated over to
the gate and got into his parents’ car with them. The Bledsoes sped off.
“Whoa, man!” Trevor said. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
“Marty’ll be okay,” Lainie said, sounding not too sure of herself. “The question is, will we be okay without him?”
They all looked at each other anxiously as the Bad Boys started calling to them to resume the game or forfeit.
Trevor took over as acting captain. “Okay, Kirby, you’re in at forward again. Let’s go. Let’s win it for Marty!”
With a yell, they took their positions. The puck was dropped, and Trevor won the faceoff, sending it back to Nick at the blue
line.
“Nick! Here!” Kirby shouted. “I’m open!”
Nick passed it toward him, but the Bad Boys had heard Kirby shouting. Spike intercepted the puck, speeding the other way.
Kirby leapt into action, skating so fast that he overtook Spike just as he raised his stick for a slap shot. Reaching underneath,
Kirby swept the puck onto his stick, and Spike fired nothing but air!
Kirby was already across the blue line by thetime
Similar Books
