Page 48 of The Rebound Play
The crowd erupts and instinctively, I look up at Keira. She’s on her feet, cheering for me along with Benny and Hannah, who are bouncing up and down as though they’re on a trampoline.
Cooper skates over, grinning, and we exchange a triumphant fist bump. Nate joins us, and we celebrate together. This is what we live for—only I’ve got something even more important to live for now, and before my brain even catches up with what I’m doing, I’ve skated over to the plexiglass in front of Keira where I blow her a kiss.
All heads turn to look at who I’m aiming for, and Keira’s flushing face tells them exactly what they want to know.
She mock glares at me, and I shrug, grinning.
The cat is well and truly out of the bag now, and I could not be happier.
I return to my position, and we launch back into the game. With every slice of my skates, with every hit of the puck, with every slam against the plexiglass, my heart beats for Keira.
The Lumberjacks manage to score a goal, and before we know it, we’re in the final moments of the game, the score tied at 1-1. It’s anyone’s game now, but I hope it’s ours. The Jacks’ right wing, McNeil, gets a hold of the puck again. Defensemen Ted and Noah are on high alert, determined to protect the net. But McNeil is relentless, gliding down the ice, flanked by his teammates, Carter and Diaz, and I just know his eyes are locked on the prize.
Noah steps up to block McNeil’s path, but with a slick maneuver, McNeil slips past both Noah and Ted as he passes the puck to Diaz with a swift flick. Diaz rockets forward, drawing Ted out of position. And that’s when it happens. McNeil seizes the moment, darting into the opening and Dawson braces for impact. I can almost feel it before it happens, the puck hitting the back of the net. As McNeil winds up and slaps the puck, it sails past Dawson’s knee and slams into its target.
The red light flashes, and we know, with only seconds on the clock, we’ve lost. Lumberjacks’ supporters erupt in cheers, and our supporters groan. After a valiant attempt by the guys to score another goal, the final buzzer sounds, and the game ends in a crushing 2-1 defeat. It’s not the way we—or the town—wanted this to go, but we can still hold our heads high, knowing that our newly formed team held the mighty Canadian Lumberjacks back from a much larger defeat.
As McNeil and his teammates celebrate, I take a deep breath and skate to the center, raising my stick to acknowledge the people of Maple Falls who’ve turned out in force to support us. Despite the loss, their cheers and applause ring out, with cries of “We still love you, Dan the Man!” and “Ice Breakers rule!” from the crowd.
Once more, I find Keira’s face in the crowd. She shrugs and smiles, as if to say you win some, you lose some, and I smile back at her.
We might have lost the game, but I’ve won back the person who’s been missing from my world for what feels like a lifetime.
As is the custom, we line up to shake hands with the opposing team, showing our respect for the game. Afterward, we gather in a tight huddle, Coach giving us a few words of encouragement.
“Tough night, guys, and not the way I bet you wanted your first game to go, but you did yourselves proud,” Coach says. “We’ve got a few things to work on at practice, but I’ll give you the rest of the night off.”
There are groans from my teammates, but I know as well as the next guy that after a defeat, you’ve got no choice but to pick yourselves up, regroup, and fix what failed in the game. Success in professional sport is as much of a mind game as it is a physical one, and a positive attitude and strong desire to win will get you places. This might not be the League, and we might not have played together as a team before, but we’re all competitive guys with a need to win. We’ll come back, better than before.
“Wrist okay out there?” Coach asks me, and it occurs to me I didn’t once give it thought during the game.
“It’s great, Coach,” I reply.
“Good man.”
We do a final skate around the rink, applauding the crowd before we head off the ice and out into the locker rooms.
I shower and change, ready to face the media—and the people of Maple Falls, as the Ice Breakers’ team captain.
Just as I did when I was out on the ice, I find Keira in the crowd. She smiles at me, and warmth spreads through my chest.
We might have lost the game, but I’ve won the girl.
“A disappointing result for a first game,” one of the journalists leads. “Do you think your team is up for the task?”
This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had media training and plenty of experience. I know how to spin a response to work in my favor as well as the next guy. Troy told me he chose me as captain for a bunch of reasons, including the fact I’m good with the press. I know how to work with a group of guys on the ice, and I know how to answer difficult questions.
“We’re a brand-new team. We’ve not played together before. I know that’s no excuse, but we’ve got a bunch of super talented guys on the team. We will regroup and come back stronger than before. Every game is a new opportunity, and we intend to grab that opportunity and run with it.”
I turn my attention from that particular journalist to a young, nervous looking guy in the front row.
“Why did you choose number 29 for the new team?” he asks.
“Someone very special to me is born on that date,” I reply.
“Who?”
“Someone special,” I repeat. I spot my mom and dad, standing next to Keira at the back of the room, and throw them a smile.