“Don’t do it man. Don’t do it,” AJ says staring at Fedoruk who is doubled over on the ice holding his stomach.
“I feel like shit,” Fedoruk mutters.
“There’s only a little bit of practice left,” AJ says.
“No seriously AJ I feel like shit. I feel like I’m gonna puke at any moment.”
“Maybe you should leave then,” AJ says resting his chin on the end of his stick staring down at Fedoruk.
“You think Barber will let me?”
AJ shrugs, “Depends…can you puke on cue?”
“Jesus you look pale,” Kevin says skating up to them. He pulls off one of his gloves and feels Fedoruk’s forehead, “Go home Fridge. Rest a little. LeClaire and Fedetenko are leaving practice too. Let me guess nausea?”
Fedoruk nods.
“Rusty said he went to the doctors last night with his wife and he has a stomach virus. You probably caught it too. Just go back to the locker room and get changed I’ll tell Barber. We have a few days before we play the Hurricanes so rest up now.”
“Thanks Kev,” Fedoruk says skating over to the tunnel and off the ice.
“You didn’t share any water with him or anything did you AJ?” Kevin asks, “With Rusty?”
“Nope,” AJ says, “It’s a virus?”
“Yeah, I think it came from the flu that was going around.”
“Willy started it all,” AJ puffs.
“Give the kid a break,” Kevin says.
“No I’m not mad at him just stating the fact.”
Kevin nods, “How are the Olympics coming?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” AJ smirks at him.
“Hey just because you’re on the American team and I’m on the Canadian doesn’t mean anything.”
“Righttttt, but I think my coach hates me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well he tends to tell me this,” AJ says clearing his throat, “Jesus McLean you’re horrible. You get worse every day we come out to play and right now you’re playing like the middle of next week.”
Kevin smirks, “He’s the coach from the 1980 Olympic team isn’t he?”
“Yeah, same GM too. The guy made a miracle when the USA won that year though. One of the former players on the Soviet team is coming back to coach theirs too. And of course you have “the great one” as a coach.”
Kevin nods, “Wayne Gretsky is a good coach though.”
“I don’t doubt it,” AJ says.
“So how’s your team looking?”
“Well according to our coach, ‘we are trying to get by playing on talent and we don’t have enough talent to do that.’”
Kevin shakes his head.
“Then he told me that I looked like a monkey trying to screw a football during one drill.”
“What does that look like?”
“I have no fucking idea,” AJ says turning to look at him, “No fucking idea. Why would a monkey even try that anyway?”
Kevin just smiles slightly and holds in a laugh.
“We have a pretty good team though. We would have a better one if we had Boosh in net instead of DUNHAM.”
Kevin sighs, “A lot of the time they base it one experience though…and let me finish,” he says as AJ goes to say something, “You and Gagne you’re young, but you can’t help but see your talent. They’d be completely stupid and ridiculed for leaving you guys off. They’re being ridiculed for leaving Boosh off, but they suspect that he’ll be around in a few years. If he stays like he is he’ll be around for at least two more Olympics.”
“Brian didn’t make it did he?”
Kevin shakes his head no, “He mad it to the final round, but chose someone else over him. About near killed him.”
“Both our goalies got screwed.”
“Recs didn’t make it either.”
“Yeah, I heard that. That’s ridicules.”
Kevin sighs, “It’s all in the GM’s hands. Brian should be around for two more Olympics though too.”
“How’s Gags?”
“Shoulder still acting up. He’s a day to day, but he wouldn’t be back for the next game.”
AJ shakes his head, “Wonderful,” he sighs as Barber blows his whistle calling them all to line up again for a new drill, “Hitler calls,” AJ says before skating over to the blue line with Kevin.
Nick stares at the menu in front of him and makes a face, “They don’t have hoagies?”
Williams stares at him oddly from across the table, “I don’t think they call them hoagie here in San Jose.”
“Then what do they call them?”
“I dunno…subs maybe.”
“I’ll just get a BLT then.”
Justin nods as Nick puts down his menu and strums his fingers on the table, “You think you’ll ever make the Olympic team?”
“For Canada?”
Justin nods.
“I dunno,” Nick says, “If I get better maybe and when I’m older. Why?”
“Just wondering. You know cause they’re getting closer and all.”
“They’ve gone really commercial Kevin told me.”
“Kevin’s been there before right?”
“Yup, I think he has a medal too. He said he knew that it had gone down hill once they signed NSYNC to play there.”
Justin shakes his head, “True.”
“I hope I go someday,” Nick says, “Just to…I dunno prove myself almost.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s one of the reasons AJ said he was going.”
“AJ is always trying to prove himself though,” Nick says.
Justin shrugs, “He’s got a lot of anger towards his father. He just voices it a lot more then you do.”
Nick nods, “My dad is already doing it to my younger brother now too.”
“Does he like hockey?”
“He likes hockey cause I like hockey.”
Justin shakes his head, “You’re dad, no offense, is one of the reason they make parents silent at some games.”
Nick nods, “I know. Trust me I know. Pee wee hockey game and he is yelling curses at the refs and the other players. What’s with Fedoruk though?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well you know him pretty well right?”
“The Fridge, yeah.”
“I’ve heard that he had some problems before like in the minors.”
“He had a drinking problem,” Justin says, “He’s cleaned up his act a lot though. He’s gotten a lot better from it too. He drinks, but he usually stays away from heavy drinking. Can I ask you something though?”
“Yea shoot.”
“Why did you hate me on the Whalers. I know why your dad did, but why did you?”
“Because whenever you would do something good or show how you were better then me, inadvertently most of the time, I would get ridiculed as all hell by my father. ‘Why can’t you be more like that new kid Justin Williams? Look at him he flies down the ice like you should be doing. He doesn’t take any stupid penalties. He’s the leading scorer on your team get your head in the game. Why is he new yet he’s on first string? Oh God then you got drafter pro and I was never good enough for that whole season.”
“I didn’t mean to make you look bad you know.”
“Oh I know,” Nick says quickly, “It was just…a person can only take so much ridicule before they crack you know. My dad…my dad is worse then Barber.”
Justin shakes his head and looks down at the table slightly, “I’m the one being benched now though.”
“That’s only because you’re small.”
“Yeah but you don’t know that…”
“I heard Barber tell it to Kevin. They think you’re too small.”
“I weigh 190. I’m the same as you.”
Nick shrugs, “but I’m built bigger.”
“Aghhh,” Justin says slamming one of his feet down on the ground in his chair, “I never do anything right on this team.”
Nick shrugs, “We all can’t be AJs.”
“That’s just wrong,” Justin sighs.
“He works really hard though can’t say he doesn’t deserve it and he doesn’t have one of those big heads like a lot of other players do.”
“Yeah. He told me I looked like a monkey trying to screw a football yesterday in practice though.”
“What the hell does that look like?” Nick asks.
“I have no damned idea,” Justin says.
Brian takes a bite of a Rice Cake and stares at the TV hanging above the bar as the Pittsburgh Penguins score a goal on the New York Ranger, “I can’t believe Eric got another concussion.”
“What are ya gonna do,” Boosh says from beside him on a stool, “The man is made of glass almost.”
Brian takes another bite of his Rice Cake and nods.
“Why did you bring Rice Cakes down here anyway?” Boosh asks.
“Kevin says it’s not good for me to have too much sugar, so be bought me slated Rice Cakes instead of the cookies I asked for. Want one they’re not half bad?”
Boosh takes one from the pack he is holding in his hand and takes a bite of it, ‘it tastes like cardboard.”
Brian shrugs taking another bite of his and swallowing it before answering, “If you eat enough of them you can taste them.”
“How many have you eaten?”
“This is my fifth.”
“Put the Rice Cakes down Brian.”
Brian stares at him and takes another bite of his Rice Cake making at face at him.
Boosh smiles and shakes his head before turning his attention to the TV screen again.
“We both got screwed over for the Olympics,” Brian says.
Boosh nods.
“You know in my years in the NHL I have heard people say it’s ok I wasn’t picked and that it was an honor anyway, but you are one of the only people that I knew who actually voiced how mad they were.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“Good,” Brian says, “You’re the best goalie in the league, why shouldn’t you be picked?”
“Because I screw up.”
“You screw up? I’m the on supposedly not playing up to par,” Brian says.
“Who said that?”
“People.”
“Fuck ‘em.”
Brian nods, “That could be the best advice I have gotten this whole season.”
Boosh smirks.
“Don’t worry though we’ll get ours.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re getting that damned Cup Boosh. That thing has been avoiding me for a few years now and I want it.”
“Damn straight,” Boosh says.
“Damn straight,” Brian repeats.
“You know what the worst part is though?”
“What?”
“We’re not gonna be home for the car show.”
“Oh I know,” Brian says as his eyes light up, “they’re showing the new Viper there.”
“No no no the Lamborghini,” Boosh says
“Yeah,” Brian smiles, “200 mph, nice.”
“200,000 plus in dollars though.”
“But still…”
“Nice,” they both say at the same time as Brian takes another bite of his Rice Cake.
“You know what we should go find AJ and the guys and go out somewhere Brian,” Boosh says.
“Brilliant idea Brian,” Brian says standing up.
“Why thank you Brian,” Boosh says.
“You’re welcome Brian, “ Brian says as they walk out of the bar.
“Barasso,” AJ mutters from the bench and looking at the goaltender for the Carolina Hurricanes, “I hope Boosh kicks his ass.”
Brian looks at AJ from where he is sitting on the bench, then at Barasso and finally back to their own net where Boosh was stretching.
“But if Boosh kicks Barasso’s ass then you have no good goaltender for the American team,” Fedoruk says from next to AJ.
“Shut up Fridge,” AJ says.
“It’s true.”
“I know.”
“So then why did you…”
“Fridge it’s hockey time not thinking time,” AJ says.
Brian shakes his head and looks at AJ smiling. Barasso was one of the two goaltenders that were going to the Olympic team instead of Boucher and AJ as usual took friendship over teammates, even if it was worth a gold medal possibly.
“Oh no here we go,” AJ mutters as a Hurricane player scores on Boosh soon after the beginning of the game, “C’mon Boosh pull yourself together,” he mumbles.
Seconds later Marty Murray takes off down the ice passing the defenders for the Hurricanes with the Flyers shorthanded. He fakes out Barasso and takes a shot wrapping the puck around Barasso and into the net tying the game, 1-1. Thirteen seconds after that a puck flies past Boosh as a screen is set up and once again the Flyers have to fight from behind early on, 1-2 in favor of the Hurricanes. It was almost the end of the first when AJ took off down the ice carrying the puck and somehow getting a shot off while being hooked down. 2-2.
It stayed that way until the third period too when Marty Murray yet again took off down the ice getting off a good shot and helped raise the Flyers with a 3-2 standing. The momentum only got bigger from there when Roenick let off a slap shot on a power play raising the bar with a 4-2 lead with ten minutes left in the game. Of course ten minutes is a lot of time in hockey. With minutes left in the game the Hurricanes pull Barrasso in favor of an extra player and soon enough slip one by Boosh with a minute left in the game. With seconds left in the game the Hurricanes make a desperate attempt to get their fourth goal, but fall short.
Flyers finish up the road trip with four wins and three loses. They were now tied for first in their division.
