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    Shutout
    Shutout
    Shutout
    Ebook104 pages1 hour

    Shutout

    By Jeff Ross

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Alex Paterson is the number-one goalie on his high-school  hockey team. And he's thrilled that his team has made the playoffs. But when graffiti that apparently can be traced back to Alex is found on the walls of the school, and a photo of Alex at a party with a beer in his hand starts making the rounds, he is suspended from the team, and his reputation as a good kid is put in doubt. Alex knows he's innocent. The problem is, he cannot figure out who would want to frame him. Or why. Is it the other goalie who wants all the glory for himself? Or someone from a rival team looking for an advantage? With everyone assuming the worst about him, it's up to Alex to find out who is behind it all, not only to clear his name, but to save the season.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrca Book Publishers
    Release dateJan 29, 2019
    ISBN9781459818781
    Shutout
    Author

    Jeff Ross

    Jeff Ross is the author of several novels for young adults including several titles in the Orca Soundings and Orca Sports series. He teaches scriptwriting and English at Algonquin College in Ottawa.

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      Book preview

      Shutout - Jeff Ross

      One

      Chapter One

      The glove save wasn’t perfect. It bounced off my wrist instead of settling into the pocket of the glove. But a quick-moving center had been on a breakaway, so the fact that the puck wasn’t in the net was all that mattered. I pushed back to protect the post, wrapping my left arm around it and sealing off any space where the puck might find its way through. The center who’d taken the shot was already in the corner, attempting to dig the puck away from the boards. I swung my head quickly to the side to see if anyone was coming in looking for a one-timer. Sure enough, there was a winger standing a couple of feet to the side of me. No one near him.

      Where was my defense?

      I looked back in time to watch the forward flick the puck away from the boards. It floated just off the ice. I tried to get my stick on it, but the center had managed to deliver it just slightly out of reach. As it passed my stick I swung off the post, following the puck’s motion. The center had his stick pulled back. In a flash the puck was flying toward me. Somehow I managed to get my pad down, kicking the puck out to the other side of the net. I followed it again, having no idea if someone else would be there to hammer it home behind me. A stick came out, and again the puck flew at me. I was sliding sideways and caught it in the chest. It popped up and over me—luckily, clearing the top of the net.

      I pushed back again, covering the post. One of my players shot past, flying around the back of the net. Another came and stood on the other side, protecting against a wrap-around. I stood up straight and looked over my shoulder. One of my defensemen, Luke, was holding the forward against the boards. My other defenseman, Aiden, was nowhere to be found. At least, I didn’t see him. But I couldn’t spend that much time looking. A goalie always watches the puck. It’s his only job. To know where the puck is at all times and keep it out of the net.

      The puck squirted free, and the other team’s center grabbed it and took a wild shot. I caught it in my glove and fell to the ice. I made certain the puck stayed deep in the pocket and didn’t come out. There was crashing above me. Everyone shoving around. The other team trying to pry the puck loose before the whistle blew. My team trying to keep these guys off me. The problem is, with all that shoving, the goalie is often the guy who gets hurt. I’ve been lucky so far. No major injuries. But still, when you’re crumpled there on the ice and can feel these big guys getting banged around, it’s pretty scary.

      Someone shoved me into the net just as a body fell in front of me. The ref was blowing his whistle like mad. The guy on the ice turned to me. Lucky, he said. I kept my head down, the puck inside my glove tucked in tight to my body. You’re not always going to be so lucky. Then he was gone. Yanked away from the crease and sent flying across the ice.

      You all right, Alex?

      I looked up. Luke was in front of me, a big smile on his face.

      Jolly good, sir, I said.

      Right-o, right-o. Well done, chap, he said, patting me on the head. I can’t remember when this crazy pretending-to-be-upper-class-British thing started. Likely when we were little kids, since Luke and I have been playing together since we were seven. Somehow it is still hilarious to both of us.

      I slid out of the net and dropped the puck on the ice for the ref. What happened to Aiden? I said.

      Luke shook his head. He decided he needed a rest right when that guy got the breakaway.

      I glanced over at the bench as the ref skated to the face-off dot. Aiden was sitting beside Travis, the other goalie for West High Thunder. They are the best of friends, and unfortunately, Aiden always wants to prove that Travis is a better goalie than me. Even more unfortunately, Aiden has the power to make me look bad simply by not doing his job. But this time, he’d left me high and dry and everyone had seen it. The coach was reaming him out on the bench.

      I glanced at the clock. Two minutes left. We were up 3–1. The puck dropped, and our center, Jake, shot it back to Luke. He bounced it off the boards and out of our zone. I relaxed a little. Watched the play move up the ice. This was the thing about being a goalie. It was like what soldiers talk about—endless periods of utter boredom followed by intense seconds of nonstop action. With West High Thunder, though, the periods of utter boredom are few and far between. The only time I really get a rest is when Luke and Matt’s line is out. They know their job. Sure, they get beat now and then—everyone does—but most of the time, when they are on the ice I am confident I am going to face nothing but routine shots. Things I can easily handle. None of this clean-breakaway stuff or ridiculous cross-ice one-timers.

      The play wrapped around the other end and started back toward me. I pounded my hand deep into my glove and glided forward. Then Luke cut in, took the puck clean away from the streaking winger and passed it cross-ice, and Matt popped it out of the zone again. One minute left, and no one was looking to get off the ice. I glanced at the bench and noticed Aiden arguing with Coach Ryan. Coach just shook his head and walked away as Aiden slammed his stick into the back side of the boards.

      The play was moving toward me again, and although Luke was boxing the guy out, keeping him to the outside, the player managed to get a pass off to his center. Jake was coming back as hard as he could, but he’d been trapped behind the other net. Which allowed the other team’s center to fly up the ice. The puck had settled onto his stick like metal to a magnet. He looked up. I watched his eyes for a moment and saw him looking top shelf. He rolled the puck back on his stick, readying it. Just as he was about to flick it, I slid out and poked it off his stick, over to the boards. Luke came in hard, spun around and sent the puck back up to center ice. Time ran out.

      Some people would say it wouldn’t have mattered if that one had gone in. We’d already won. We were already in first place. But like I said, all that is totally beside the point. I have one job out here. My game is keeping the puck out of the net.

      And I am good at it.

      Chapter Two

      I didn’t say anything to Aiden in the locker room.

      I didn’t have

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