AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hi, I'm back! I'm sorry this chapter is long. I thought of trying to break it into two but decided not to. Sorry for the long wait, too. Oh yeah, and I changed Gunnar's name. Why? Cause I'm a foreign culture buff and although I try to be accommodating with movie goofs and stuff, this was one I could not let slide. I will post the explanation in the reviews.
A NEW TEAM – CHAPTER NINE – BREAKING APART
It was a warm night in Los Angeles. Despite the fact that it was way past Team USA's curfew, Portman and Fulton were out perusing the city. They knew Coach Bombay was living it up in Malibu with the "cake-eaters", as Jesse would say. The "Bash Brothers," as Portman and Fulton had become known, were in no danger of being caught.
"So, what do you think of Kestle?" Fulton asked.
"She's nice," Portman responded neutrally.
"You like her, don't you?" Fulton asked, already knowing the answer.
Portman looked uncomfortable for a few seconds. "Yeah," he mumbled.
"Don't blame you," Fulton said. "Come on, she's hot. Did you ask her to come to the game tomorrow?"
"She already has tickets," Portman said. "She's bringing her friend Kathryn with her. We're gonna go to Friendly's after the game's over."
"See?" Fulton said. "She just needs to-" He yanked his friend back.
"What?" Portman asked. "What was that-"
"Sh!" Fulton cut him off. "Look!" He pointed to two figures leaving the ice cream stand. It was Coach Bombay with a gorgeous blond-haired woman. Her whole outfit could not have had more than two yards of fabric to it. She wore a pleather micro-mini with a white, skintight crop-top and dark denim jacket.
"That's the Iceland chick!" Portman said as their coach and the woman walked down the sidewalk. "What's he doing with her?"
Fulton shook his head in disdain. "Some coach we've got."
The next day Team USA was getting ready for their game against Iceland. The locker room was a flurry of activity, as it always was. Nobody admitted to being nervous, but Kaley could tell from the general chattiness that everyone was more anxious than usual. But they were undefeated so far. How bad could Iceland really be? USA had already downed Canada, the world's foremost experts in hockey. It had been close, but USA had still won.
"Hey, how did this happen?" Kaley held up her right skate, which had a long scratch along the inside arch. At the locker next to hers, she noticed Ken looking away. "Ken? You know anything about this?"
Ken shook his head innocently.
"Well, I guess it doesn't matter," Kaley said, sitting on the bench to put her skates on. "As long as I can skate in them, who cares what they look like?"
"All right, Team, we have warm-ups in twenty minutes, let's go!" Kaley jerked her head up at the sound of her father's voice. The team began to cheer, but it fell flat when they took in their coach's nerdy tweed suit and awful hairstyle. It was so slicked back it looked solid.
"Nice haircut, did you lose a bet?" Averman asked.
Kaley stifled a giggle and tried to hide it by tying her skate.
Portman and Fulton cornered Coach Bombay. "Did you have a good night last night, Coach?" Portman asked.
"Yes," Coach Bombay answered.
"What did you do?" Fulton asked.
"Just watched TV and got to bed early," Coach Bombay responded evenly.
"But not without a little dessert, right?" Fulton asked, heading back to his locker.
"Some ice cream, maybe?" Portman said, following Fulton and leaving their coach to wonder what that little interrogation had been about.
"Three minutes to game time," Kestle said, looking at her watch.
"Not like you're counting or anything," Kathryn said. "Admit it, Kestle. You like him."
Kestle took a bite of her hot dog. Mm, if Coach Jodie saw me eating this, she'd kill me. "Like who?"
"Dean Portman!" Kathryn said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Kathryn, let's not have this argument now, OK?" Kestle sighed.
"If you don't like him, then why are we here tonight?" Kathryn persisted.
"Because I bought the tickets two months ago," Kestle said. "And you were lucky enough to get your seat because Chatelaine had to back out."
"Uh-uh," Kathryn shook her head. "Kestle, Dean is hot. And a darned good hockey player, too. You ate ice cream with the guy, you let him teach you to skate, and you broke Coach Jodie's curfew. All for him! That's aggressive, girl!"
"Kathryn, enough," Kestle said.
"Say you like him," Kathryn ordered.
"No," Kestle said firmly.
"Say you like him!" Kathryn tried again.
"No!" Kestle said defensively.
"Say it," Kathryn continued.
Kestle sighed in frustration. "A little."
"A little," Kathryn repeated. "Is that all I'm gonna get out of you?"
"Yes," Kestle said. "Now shut up and watch the game."
Jesse skated to center ice for the face-off. His confidence wavered when he saw the hulking, mean-looking Icelander that he was to face off against.
"Darva tilan solis," the boy said.
"What's that mean?" Jesse asked.
"You'll find out," the boy said disparagingly.
Hope it means something good, Jesse thought, readying himself for the face-off.
The puck hit the ice. But it never went anywhere, because the Icelander threw himself at Jesse. The two tangled for a little while until Portman jumped between them and whacked the Icelander.
"That'll be a penalty!" The ref said. "Unprovoked!"
Portman rammed his elbow into the referee's chest. "Gimme a break," he muttered.
The ref picked himself up. "Now you're out!"
"What?" Portman protested
"You're throwing him out?" Coach Bombay called from the bench. "You can't do that! We're thirty seconds into the game!"
Jesse watched as the ref dragged an irate Portman off the ice. Holy moly, this will be one tough game.
Goldberg watched an Icelander skate towards USA's net. Watch the puck, watch the puck, he told himself. But this Icelander made it very hard to watch the puck. Before Goldberg could to anything, the puck shot past him into the goal.
"Glove side?" Goldberg asked in astonishment.
"Hey Goldberg!" Came a voice in the stands. "I'll bet if that puck was a cheeseburger you'd stop it!"
Punk, Goldberg thought. Where is he so I can have at him when the game's done?
"Yee-haw!" Dwayne called, catching the puck as Connie passed it to him.
"Come on, Dwayne!" Coach Bombay yelled from the bench.
"Quick, pass it!" Fulton said urgently.
Dwayne tried to pass the puck, but two Icelanders who squashed him in between them thwarted his effort. "Ouch," Dwayne whimpered as he slid to the ice. Darn it.
Kestle and Kathryn sat in the stands, aghast at the game. "I thought you said USA was good!" Kathryn exclaimed.
"They are!" Kestle defended. "Or at least…they were. I didn't think Iceland would be this good!"
"Well, neither did Team USA," Kathryn said. "Otherwise they'd probably be more prepared."
Kestle nodded grimly and turned her focus back to the game.
"Ken," Coach Bombay said. "We need your help. What can you do for us?"
"Let's see." Ken thought for a second. "Triple axel, double toe loop, which should split the D, then a pirouetting touch for the goal."
"Show it to me, son," Coach Bombay said.
Ken nodded and hit the ice. Right as he started his first move, two huge Icelanders, whose jerseys read Sandersson and Stefansson smashed into him. All the wind left his tiny body as Ken picked himself up and hobbled back to the box, doubled over in pain.
"Was that it?" Coach Bombay asked.
Unable to speak, Ken simply nodded.
"I don't know why we're even staying," Kathryn griped. "USA's stinking the place out, and your boyfriend got thrown out a minute into the game. Let's go." She got up from her seat.
"No, wait," Kestle said. "I've heard these guys have a knack for coming through at the last minute."
"OK, fine," Kathryn agreed, sitting down again. "But if they blow it, you owe me an ice cream."
"Got it," Kestle said.
"You didn't deny it," Kathryn said.
Kestle looked at her, puzzled. "Deny what?"
"When I said Portman was your boyfriend," Kathryn explained. "You didn't say he's not."
"I didn't hear," Kestle said. "But he's not."
"Where's our concentration?" Coach Bombay demanded of the discouraged Team USA. "You're all running around there like chickens with your heads cut off!"
"We're doing our best!" Jesse defended.
"Well, your best isn't good enough," Coach Bombay said coldly. "We are one loss away from elimination. You may want to go home early, but I don't."
"My, wasn't that inspiring," Averman muttered.
As the second period started, Iceland led four to nothing. A big oaf named Sandersson got one in past Goldberg. Julie was tired of being a spectator. She hadn't played yet in the whole tournament.
"You're off, Goldberg!" Coach Bombay yelled. "Julie! You're up."
"Thanks," Julie waddled out of the box and began lumbering across the ice in her cumbersome goalie gear.
"Good luck, Julie," Goldberg panted as he skated past her. "You're gonna need it."
"Thanks, Goldberg," Julie responded, situating herself in the goal. She took her helmet off and began adjusting her gloves when two heavily accented male voices began teasing her from behind.
"Never send a woman to do a man's job," one of them mocked.
"Don't break a nail," the other said.
Julie turned around. "I'm sorry, boys," she said sweetly. "But, could you help me with my pads, please?"
The two Icelanders turned to each other. "Yow," they said in unison.
Julie took advantage of the distraction and shoved them to the ice. The ref blew his whistle. "You're out of the game, young lady!" He called.
Julie looked at the boys, still in shock on the ice. "See you around, boys," she said as the ref led her off the ice.
"Thanks for the breather," Goldberg said, going back to the goal.
"Go Julie!" Connie and Kaley cheered in unison.
Julie gave them a half-smile. Well, at least I went out in a blaze of glory, she thought.
Adam took the puck and shot it into Iceland's net for USA's first goal. "Yes!" He shouted, raising his right arm in triumph. Suddenly, Sandersson brought his stick down on Adam's wrist. Adam managed not to yelp as a jolt of pain shot up his arm. That's my sore wrist, he though in dismay, pulling his hand out of his glove.
The ref gave Sandersson a two-minute penalty. "That's it?" Coach Bombay roared from the bench. "Come on! What kind of call was that?"
Adam examined his wrist. It's already swollen, he thought in dismay. Maybe it will just get better. It has to get better.
USA got their heads handed to them. Twelve to one. Kestle was absolutely numb as the crowd filtered out of the arena.
"Well, that was an evening well-spent," Kathryn said, standing up.
"Oh, gosh, Kathryn, I'm sorry," Kestle said. "I didn't know! They've been so good so far! I guess they weren't expecting this."
"Yeah, well, let's just hope it's not a preview of what we have to look forward to," Kathryn said. Team USA gymnastics was scheduled for the gold medal match up in three days. They stood in fourth place. Their toughest competition would be from Russia, who was in second. Team USA was desperately hoping for a shot at a medal.
Kestle looked around for Dean, but didn't see him. "What are you looking for, you lovestruck goof?" Kathryn asked, grabbing her arm. "Come on!"
Kestle allowed Kathryn to pull her out of the arena. Oh, well. Dean probably doesn't want to talk anyway.
Team USA sat in the locker room for what they were sure would be a good dressing-down. Nobody was looking forward to it, but Kaley felt worst of all. She hated being yelled at. Even though her dad would be yelling at the team, she was part of the team, and felt like she was the one being yelled at.
"Twelve to one," Gordon said, pacing the floor in front of the team. "Twelve to one. Do you know what comes to mind when you think of that?"
Pitiful? Embarrassing? Humiliating? Shameful? Kaley thought.
"Pathetic!" Gordon spat out. "You guys were brought here to play hockey!"
Kaley ducked her head so her father wouldn't see the tears forming in her eyes.
"What about you?" Jesse asked.
"What about me, Jesse?" Gordon responded.
"Coach Stansson and his team knew everything about us," Julie said. "They were ready for us!"
"Yeah, and you've just been driving around in convertibles talking with all those sponsor fools," Luis said angrily.
"And eating ice cream with the Iceland lady," Fulton interjected.
"We saw you two last night," Portman put in.
Kaley's eyes widened. Dessert…ice cream…oh my gosh! That's what they were talking about! She thought, remembering Portman and Fulton's little interrogation of her dad before the game started.
"Eating ice cream with the enemy, huh, Coach?" Fulton asked.
Gordon looked really angry now. "What I do is none of your business," he said coldly. "Is that clear?"
The team nodded and began to take off their gear. Kaley couldn't wait to get back to the dorms and have a good cry.
"Don't take those pads off!" Gordon snapped. "Everyone stay in your gear. We have practice."
Kaley could almost hear her teammates' jaws dropping. "Tonight?" Goldberg asked in disbelief.
Coach Bombay blew his whistle for the team to stop their sprints. Charlie took his helmet off and stopped next to his coach. "This isn't very much fun, Coach."
"Who said it was supposed to be fun?" Coach Bombay asked.
"You did," Charlie said. "When you were coaching the Ducks."
Coach Bombay looked around the arena. "I don't see any Ducks here, Charlie," he said. "All I see is Team USA, one loss away from elimination." He turned back to the team. "Twenty more sprints! Everyone! We'll do this all night if we have to."
Charlie skated up to Kaley. She looked ready to cry. "You OK?"
Kaley nodded, although she looked very far from OK. "Is this what he used to be like?"
"Worse," Charlie said.
"Charlie! Kaley!" Coach Bombay barked. "Move it!"
Charlie and Kaley began sprinting. Boy, this sure is a letdown, Charlie thought.