End to End

         The score was 4-3 against them in the final minutes of the hockey game, when Michael Devon stepped out onto the ice. The crowd cheered at the sight of their Superstar. The teams were so matched in talent and skills, could any one player make a difference in the dying minutes of this game? If anyone could do it, they knew Michael could. He was the best sniper on the team.

         “Devon! Devon! Devon!” the chant began and grew into a frenzy of excitement.

         Michael saluted the home crowd in acknowledgement with one gloved hand, skating smoothly to centre ice. His mind focused on the game, preparing himself for the daunting challenge ahead. He visualized the puck going off his stick into the opposition’s net. It was up to him and his teammates to make it happen, before the clock ran out.

         Michael took his position for the faceoff, his legs braced wide and his forehand low on his stick. He looked the opposition’s Centreman straight in the eyes. Michael said nothing, but his gaze spoke volumes, conveying both confidence and control. There was an instant flicker of uncertainty in the other’s eyes, before the steel of determination was back full forced.

         Good. Then we understand each other, Michael thought.

         Michael’s attention was riveted on the puck as it dropped to the ice. The battle was on for possession. Michael scooped the puck first, dropping it back to his teammate, Adam, in one swift movement.

         Adam broke out of their end on a 2-on-1 rush, Michael skating right with him. Only one player stood between them and their target. The Centreman. The crowd were on their feet, the roar deafening. Excitement and tensions at a heightened peak in the frosty air.

         The clock ticked down, thirty seconds left in the game.

         Their skates cut into the ice as Adam and Michael raced towards the goal. Adam moved the puck ahead on a perfect pass, hitting Michael’s stick while in full stride. They crossed the blue line milliseconds apart.

         Michael stayed wide in the opposition’s zone, drawing the Centreman towards him. The Centreman was smart, playing the puck, not giving Michael any room to manoeuvre. But when the Centreman glanced over his shoulder to check on Adam’s position, Michael had his opportunity. He snapped a blind pass into the slot area. Michael knew by instinct that Adam would be there, they had practiced this play to perfection dozens of times.

         Fifteen seconds.

         Adam picked up the pass and lasered a shot on the net, the post zinging loud as the puck ricocheted off the metal. A groan from the crowd. So close!

         There was a mad scramble for the puck in front of the crease. Michael got to it first and fired the shot home. SCORED!

         The goal had come in the nick of time just as the buzzer went off to end the third period. Michael let out a fierce yell of victory, pumping his arms in the air. Adam raced in to embrace him. The crowd went wild.

         But the game was far from over. There would be a short break, then a five minute sudden-death overtime. The first goal by either team would end the game. Overtime meant do or die.

         Michael sat on the sidelines catching his breath and resting his legs during the break. Adam sat beside him just as winded. They looked at each other and smiled. They had done it. They had tied up the score. Could they now get the goal that would win it all for their team? Time and luck would tell.

         A female voice called out from the distance “Michael! Adam! Come on in now, boys, it’s time for dinner. Jake, we've got plenty, you're welcome to join us.”

         “Coming, Mom.” Michael shouted in reply.

         “Can we pick up the game tomorrow, Jake?” Adam asked.

         The Centreman leaned against his stick and nodded. “Sure."

         Michael and Adam Devon were 12 yr old identical twins, blonde and blue eyed, their growing frames already showing the promise of the strong and athletic men they would become. The Centreman, Jake Parker, was one half Comanche with the natural athletic ability and bronzed skin of his Native American ancestors. He was taller and stockier than the twins by a few inches, and was exactly one month older. The boys had grown up beside each together and were inseparable, sharing their vivid imaginations and dreams of one day playing pro hockey, not to mention, their competitive streaks. The boys laughed and teased each other as they unlaced their skates at the edge of the frozen pond.

         "You know you guys aren't going to beat me tomorrow." Jake said with a smug look on his face.

         Michael replied with a laugh, "You're wrong there. You're going down this time, Parker."

         "You'd better get used to the feeling of L-O-S-E-R." Adam added, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a lopsided grin.

         Adam knew this was all it would take and he was ready. Jake lunged for him, Michael launched himself gleefully into the fray. The boys collapsed in a heap of mock wrestling and laughter, a tangle of youthful arms and legs rolling in the snow. They were interupted by the rumble of hungry growing-boy stomaches, reminding them that their dinner was waiting. Jake stood, brushing the snow from his body, and with one arm extended to each of his buddies, he pulled them to their feet.

         "Come on, Losers, let's eat." Jake said, heading across the ice before another fight could break out.

         Sliding across the frozen pond in their boots, skates and sticks slung over their shoulders, the three best friends trudged side by side up the path towards home. Tomorrow, they would lace up their blades and once again become Superstars. They had a score to settle and a game to finish.