Chapter One

Artley Uberwochic? No way.

What a pansy. What a joke. He can’t play on my line. There are at least seven things wrong with him. The seven deadly sins of Artley.

One: His name. No need to elaborate.

Two: He was the youngest kid on the team. Almost the youngest in the league. So therefore, he was a baby.

Three: The dork couldn’t even skate. Really, he was so unsteady out there, all it took was one little check and he was flying.

Four: He was always trying to be funny. Trying. But not succeeding. He’d end up trailing off into the silence, then he’d do something else, pretending everything was normal… and then the laughing would start. At him, not his jokes.

Five: He was a wimp, and everyone knew it. A pretty boy, a little, scrawny baby.

Six: He was just too nice. He didn’t fight with anyone, he always believed the best of people. He was a great team player... and a doormat.

Seven: He was a nerd. Always with his nose in a book, used five syllable words. Not that I’m stupid, not by a long shot. But I know enough not to flaunt my intellect.

When coach came back and asked me if I’d given the line change some thought, I decided to be blunt. I really didn’t think Uberwochic was gonna work out on our line. He didn’t seem to fit. Me and Pastl were big, rough-and-tumble sort of players... power forwards. Like Peter Forsberg. Poor Artley would be overpowered, overlooked, and probably ground into dust on our line. I was convinced it was a bad move.

Coach leaned back in his chair and gave me his best stare. He was unreadable. He’d nodded when I talked about Artley not seeming to fit... Surely he was going to agree this was not going to work.

“You need to give the kid a chance, Bosch. Give it two weeks and then we’ll talk about him fitting in. Get some rest.”

And I was dismissed. So easy. Damn, if this didn’t sting.

I kicked more than a few skates out of the way on the way to my locker. I knew the other players were giving me weird looks. I could care less. I yanked my headphones over my ears and turned on my ipod. As the screaming voices of Rise Against filtered into my seething brain, I realized that the reason I was really pissed had nothing to do with the Artley kid himself. It was more that Coach Bax would completely change the chemistry of my line without letting me have any actual say in it. That sucked, sucked big, hairy balls. Yeah, I was mad.

I sat with my towel over my head, still needing a shower, until long after everyone else had left. I was one of the older players on the team, so I didn’t have to be picked up. I could leave whenever I wanted, because my Ford F-150 was sitting right out there in the parking lot, waiting just for me.

Finally, I couldn’t take my own stench any longer, and I stripped down to take a two-minute, hot shower and then headed off to Beakers’. I could use some good food, and maybe some company.

******************************

Sure enough, Pastl and Teeksie were already occupied with about nine plates of food when I walked into the only restaurant in town that we could all afford to eat at. I waved to Shelley the ancient bartender, and slid into the large booth.

“My boys, neither of you really needs to be gaining weight... however, I was told I could bulk up to 210, so I think I’ll do the kind thing and finish the rest of this for ya.”

“Back off” the grunt from Teeksie was instant and almost hostile.

“Mine” was the only response from Pastl.

I frowned at them both and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I try to do the responsible thing, and what do I get? Absolutely no gratitude. All I wanted was to help you balls of lard out.” I eyed the plate of pasta and chicken... it was only about a foot away, but Teeksie had some fast reflexes for how big he was, so I let it be.

Finally our server came over, and I ordered enough to make him roll his eyes before he went back to the kitchen.

“Teeksie... how was practice for you today?” I attempted conversation some time later around a forkful of mashed potatoes and grilled veggies.

“Fine,” he munched on his last piece of garlic bread before expelling a stinky breath towards me. I pretended to suffocate, clawing at my throat and preparing to fall off my chair, until I heard, “--easy with D-ders and Cal. I guess I’m gonna stay there until Coach says...” he trailed off as I raised my hand. “What?”

“Well,” I tried to look sincere, “You do realize that your replacement is half your size and that his voice hasn’t even started to crack yet?”

“He’s not my replacement, Jake. He’s not even a serious player yet. I don’t know what they’re doing, but I’m glad to be on a real line...” he snickered at my expression.

“Not true.” We both looked at Pastl. He was staring at a spot behind our heads, and I sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t start waxing philosophical. “Bax knows what’s good for the team. There’s gotta be something about Artley we haven’t seen yet. He’s only been here a week. Bax makes good decisions, for us. Teeksie, you are in a rut, and Bax wants to startle you out of it. Bosch, you and I need something new on our line, too. Trust in Bax.” He went back to his enormous Caesar salad, and Teeksie raised his eyebrows at me.

I slapped Pastl on the back, making a crouton fly right out of his mouth and across the table. It landed harmlessly in a potted plant. “Pastl’s pearls of wisdom,” I grinned at Teeksie. “Priceless.”

*************************************

I wasn’t chuckling when I got off the ice the next day. There had been more mistakes, miscommunications, and frustration in that practice than any I had endured since I got into hockey. I hated it. But at the same time, I almost loved it. Because it fired me up. I’d been utterly engaged, focused on the game and nothing else.

I pulled off my left skate, and groaned inwardly at the protest my foot gave. I’d never skated so much, it felt like. And it was all because of that Artley kid. He was a freakin’ spaz. Everytime I looked up, I had to change my position to accommodate him. He circled like an emaciated buzzard, trying to gobble up some rubber. I didn’t understand his strategy, if there was one, except I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to worry about him being ground into dust too easily. No one too big was gonna get a hold on him unless they were insanely lucky.

TBC................