Sorry this isn't an update of Stirring the Ice. My chapter muse is eluding me. I wrote a one-shot once, but I hated it so I'm trying again. The victim of this one-shot? My favorite quiet Conehead…

"Cota!" I yelled. I didn't mean to scare him, but sure enough he jumped and his hockey duffel fell to the pavement. Oopsy. He whipped around, slightly pissed, to see who had scared him. He smiled when I waved to him though.

"Pav? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, looking at me curiously.

"Same reason as you, I guess."

"Right."

I didn't expect to see Phil here. Maybe I should have. The two of us have become friends at the University of Minnesota and I knew he was a good hockey player. I just never figured he wanted to go to the Olympics. I thought he wanted to go straight to the NHL.

"You know anyone else here?" he asked, looking around for another familiar face.

"A few guys. From what I heard, there are a lot of Boston boys." I shook my head. It was going to be one insane try out.

"Oh yippy. Let's get inside before any of them find us," he said, nudging my shoulder and grabbing his bag.

"Sure, okay." The two of us started in, talking a little and catching up. Both of us turned around when we heard an unfamiliar voice.

"You're Pavelich, right? Mark Pavelich?"

"Umm…yeah," I said. I'm not fond of talking much and I was hoping he wasn't hoping for an interview or anything. Not that I'm secretly vain or anything. "You are?"

"John Harrington. Call me Bah." He wore a friendly smile but his eyes were heavily with loneliness. It wasn't very likely that he was alone here, considering the number of guys there. Maybe his teammates hadn't arrived yet. "I'm here to tryout too."

"I'm Phil Verchoda. Call me Verchota," Cota piped up from behind me.

Bah extended a hand and Verchoda reached over me to shake it. Not that I mind being invisible but having Cota elbow you in the face isn't so great. "Nice to meet you," they both said. I snuck to the side, grabbing my bag and heading in. Like I said, I don't really like talking much. Verchota, though, was a bit of a talker and I knew he'd want to be left to making new friends.

Somehow Verchota and Bah ended up in the locker room before me. I got caught up in the lobby. The photographer couldn't find my name on the list and then his camera broke. Bad luck was following me around and I was praying it wouldn't carry onto the ice.

I picked the seat in between Verchota and Bah. I got a few strange looks from the guys around me, but I was doing the same thing. Everyone was. A lot of the boys were from the same team but there were also a lot of rivalries there. I should know; I'm from Minnesota.

"Let's go boys," said a voice by the door. I looked over to see Coach Patrick's head in the doorway. This was it. It was time to tryout for the 1980 Olympic team. I gave a slight nod to Verchota and stood up. Heading to the door, my heart was pounding and I was feeling a little lightheaded.

It seemed like years before I got out on the ice. Verchota and Bah were right behind me and gave me a little push when I got the glass. The second I stepped on the ice I remembered why I was a hockey player, why I was there in the first place. The moment I felt the ice under the blades of my skates, I wasn't nervous. My heart wasn't skipping beats because of fear anymore. Now it was jumping to play.

I was pretty confident at the time that I was going to make the team. I was going all the drills really well, better than most of the guys. The only trouble I was having was on the play drills. I just couldn't click with the guys I was skating with. Herb was getting a little down about it too and kept moving me around. After around 3 or 4 different lines, Herb had set me up with Bah and another guy, Buzz Schneider. I was pretty discouraged by then and didn't think I'd ever find a line.

Something happened when I was skating with those guys. I don't know if the coaches noticed it or not, they did only keep the line one time around, but the three of us just worked. It was like heaven, just pass, shoot, score.

After that, we played for another half hour or so and then everyone was sent back to the locker rooms to change and get out so we could hear who got cut. I met up with Verchota on the way in and we started talking again.

"Hey, Cota, how'd you do?" I asked, hitting his shin with my stick.

"Not too bad. One of the board members called me when we were shooting but I think he was just trying to figure out who I was."

"That's good, I guess."

"I saw that line you were with Pav, with Bah and that Schneider guy. Worked well, didn't it?"

"Yeah. I didn't think anyone else saw it."

"I did," Bah said, coming up from behind me. "It was wicked. It couldn't have worked better."

"Maybe with a little practice," Schneider said. "Hey. I'm Buzz."

"Hey Buzz. I'm Phil Verchota, that's Mark Pavelich and Bah Harrington."

"He actually remembered all our names?" Bah whispered to me. He looked shocked, but I wasn't suprised.

"He's weird like that. Good with people."

"I see," Bah said, still whispering.

"Hey guys," I said. "I'm really happy you're all making nice, but I think they want us in the seats ASAP."

All the three nodded and we walked back into the rink. I settled in a seat next to Verchota and Bah and Buzz sat elsewhere. Coach Patrick appeared with an older man, probably another coach or maybe a doctor. I knew this was it and I could feel the nervousness in the room.

"Can everyone please be quiet?" he asked. I hadn't even noticed that anyone was talking. I knew I wasn't. "First I'd like to thank you all for coming out today. You all are the cream of the crop and I speak for the entire board when I say that we wish we could use you all." I heard a chuckle from one of the boys behind me, but my mind didn't register it entirely. It was so set on hearing the names. "But sadly we cannot. We have the group narrowed down to a list of 26." A few of the guys sucked in breath, myself included. No one thought that the list would shrink so quickly. "That list of 26 will start to train with Coach Herb Brooks and will eventually be cut to a team of 20. The list is as follows."

The muscles in my legs tensed and my fists clenched shut. I was hoping the blood pounding in my skull wouldn't drown out Coach Patrick. He finally started and I shut my eyes.

"Hughes, Ross, Auge," he started. I didn't know any of those boys, so I dismissed them quickly. "Delich, Horsch, Strobel, Christoff, Morrow," More names for my nervous mind to forget about. "Suter, Ramsey, Janaszak," I was counting names by then. How many had it been? "Christian, Pavelich, Verchota, Baker," My heart had stopped for a moment. I heard my name, didn't I? Not only that, but wasn't Cota right after me? I made the team. I did it. "Harrington, Schneider, O'Callahan, McClanahan, Silk, Johnson, Craig, Cox, Eruzione. And that's the roster for now. The rest of you, thanks for coming out."

My mind had tuned out all names after I'd heard mine and Verchota's. I was happy to see that Bah and Buzz both didn't get up to leave. Now I'd get to play that line again. I flashed a smile to Buzz and gave Bah a light slap on the shoulder. Verchota smiled and shoved me into the armrest of the seat. I was so happy I didn't notice the bruise that was slowly forming on my side. I had gotten that far and then all I had to think about not getting cut. That was going to be easier said than done but I was relieved that the board had picked me.

My thoughts were broken by the sound of Herb starting the first of his many speeches. He was saying something about the other boys getting off easy. Sure, they weren't going to have to work as hard as us, but they aren't getting the chance to go to the Olympics and maybe even win. Well, we're a bit of long shot, so I shouldn't be thinking about us winning. That'd be a miracle.

Hope you enjoyed it. Please review! I'd love to hear what you think about the way I wrote the characters. I know this story wasn't entirely a comedy but I'm planning on trying one later.