Chapter 13 "The Rest of The World Is Afraid of Them"

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It was raining out, as a bunch of the guys were pushing the plane towards checkup. OC, Coxy and Mac were part of the unlucky ones.

"You Minnesotans, my back's starting to hurt from carrying y'all. Pretend you're pushing some cows." OC taunted.

He quickly got a reply, "Why don't you stop talking, Boston boy, and start pushing."


The rest of the team was scrambled out in the airport waiting room, playing cards or relaxing, "What you got there?"

"Three nines." Buzzy replied.

He got a smug reply from Bah, "Not bad, not bad. I got two sevens."

Meanwhile, Herb was on the phone, talking to his wife, "We're taxiing out to the runway, right, and we kind of hit a moose." 

"No, the moose is fine, but we gotta make sure the airplane's all right. Some of the boys are pushing it back so these guys can take a look at it." he explained their situation, "Patti, the moose is okay. It ran off. I saw it. So, what's going on at home?"

The TV was turned on, reporting about the Soviet-NHL showdown, "...between the NHL All-Stars and the Soviet Union."

"She did, huh?" Herb spoke into the phone, trying to divide his attention.

"The Soviets dominated the NHL's best from start to finish, winning by a score of six to nothing." the TV said, "The Soviets, led by the superb play of their captain, Boris Mikhailov, were superior to the NHL stars in every way tonight. Their passing was crisper, their offense relentless and their conditioning superb."

Although, Herb was way more focussed on the news report, he spoke, "No, I'm here. I'm listening."

"A six to nothing win tonight. An embarrassing evening for the NHL All-Stars." the report ended.

"Yeah...yeah, Patti, I'll get her for you. Carly!" Herb yelled out at the waiting room filled with people wearing Team USA jackets.

"Yeah?" a head shot up from in between Mark Johnson and Bah.

"Mom wants to talk to you." he held the phone up for his daughter to get it.

Carly looked down at her cards, before saying, "Damn, I had a good deck."

The boys were laughing and taunting her, "Yeah, go talk to mommy!"

"Give her a kiss from me, will ya, Elizabeth?" Philly piped up.

"Sure, and I'll also return the slap from her." Carly grinned at him.

When she picked up the phone, she happily said, "Hey, mom.....Yeah, fine. Just tired that's all....Yeah, dad is making us bleed!" she yelled out loud enough for her dad to hear her.

"Did Tommy win his championship?" she asked her mom, "Tell him he's an airhead and I'm proud of him.....yeah, that's cool. Listen, mom, can I call you back? Yeah, we're playing cards right now.....okay, love you. Bye."


Two days later, the team was squished into Herbs home office, watching film on the Soviets, "Russian style of play, boys. Fluid, creative. The forwards are constantly circling. They don't so much look for a man as a patch of ice. You get the mismatch. Two on one. Easy goal." he walked them through their tactics.

They let out sounds of admiration, as Bah piped up, "Looks a lot like me out there, huh, boys?"

Everyone chuckled at that.

"Boris Mikhailov." Herb explained, "Captain for the last six years. He is the best player at his position, and that includes, as we've just found out, the NHL."

"These guys ever smile?" Bakes asked.

But OC was quick to answer, "They're Russians, they get shot if they smile."

Again, they laughed at his joke.

"Vladislav Tretyak." Herb continued, "You score on Tretyak, keep the puck. It doesn't happen often." 

"Forty-two games in the last three months. Forty-two wins. Their main weapon is intimidation. They know they're gonna win. And so do their opponents." Herb listed the cold hard facts.

He turned off the projector and turned on the light.

Then he paused, before saying, "Look, I can give you all a load of crap about how you're a better team than they are, but that's exactly what it'd be. Everyone here knows what people are saying about our chances. I know it. You know it. But I also know there is a way to stay with this team."

Everyone looked at him awaiting what he was going to say, "You don't defend them. You attack them. You take their game and shove it right back in their face." he explained. 

"The team that is finally willing to do this is the team that has a chance to put them down. NHL won't change their game. We will. The rest of the world is afraid of them. Boys, we won't be." Herb had a determined tone in his voice that grew on the rest of them.

"No one has ever worked hard enough to skate with the Soviet team for an entire game. Gentlemen, we are gonna work hard enough." he promised, before ending the meeting.


"So, wanna show me your room?" Mark Johnson asked Carly, as they were the last ones to leave the office.

She looked up at him, questioning, "Sure, but it's not just MY room, you know?"

"Who you sharing with?" he asked, interested.

The girl replied shortly, "Ally."

"What about your little sister?" Mark asked, confusion obvious on his face.

Carly shrugged, "We obandoned her under the staircase, cuz she's younger."

Mark's confused expression switched into terrified.

"I'm kidding. That's her room." Carly pointed at a door, passing it.

She came to a stop in front of the next door, "And this is my room." she pushed the door open.

Ally was out with her friends at the moment, so the two of them had some time to themselves.

"Let me guess which side is yours." Mark joked.

One side of the room was filled with hockey gear and hockey posters, with a bed, a table and a dresser shoved in there. The other side also had the dresser, table and bed, but it was clean and rose-colored.

"Funny. You should be a comedian." Carly sarcastically stated.

Mark wrapped his arms around her, facing her, "You think so?" he asked both hopeful and seductive.

"Hmm, definitely." she nodded, before they both leaned in.


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