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Chapter 10

Playing for Real Pride

"To the right! One, two, three, four. And hold, two three four" Portman stood at the head of the group, leading them in stretches. "Switch!"

"Coach isn't here, why do we have to be?" Connie asked.

"We have a game tonight, we have to work out." Portman answered.

Goldberg straightened, sweat already glistening on his face. "I say mutiny, who's with me?"

Dwayne raised his hand in acknowledgement from his position in the back. "Goldberg, I'm too tired to mutiny."

"C'mon guys, it's not like we couldn't use the conditioning." Julie piped up.

"Speak for yourself, babe!" Portman scoffed, looking irritated.

Adam had enough of Portman's chauvinist ways, "Her name's Julie, not 'babe'" he said squaring up to Portman.

"Don't tell me how to talk, Rich Boy." Portman advanced on Adam, infuriated, sending him backward with a shove. Adam retaliated with a strong shove of his own. Portman was surprised at the strength behind the push, unaware that, lean as Adam was, he harbored some muscle. Portman reacted by taking a swing which Adam ducked. He was about to swing back when a voice cut through the mob.

"Hey, Team USA, what you gonna do today, a million jumping jacks?!" The team turned to see a stout African-American boy who had been hurling insults during games.

"Man, this kid's crazier than me." Portman scoffed. "All right, Cake-Eater, now you're gonna get it."

Before the bedlam could start again, Jesse pushed his way through. "Man, I'm getting sick of you!"

"And I'm getting sick of the USA being represented by a bunch of whining babies." The kid retorted.

Jesse snorted, "Well, too bad you can't back up that mouth."

"Me and my boys can take you anytime, anywhere."

Jesse looked, "I don't see no boys."

Security had noticed the boy and were insisting on a pass. "I got them waiting. Grab your gear, and let's go play some schoolyard puck. Or maybe you forgot what it's like to play for real pride." He managed before being led away. Curious, the team followed.

"My little brother, Russ here's been tellin' me you guys have been chokin' big time." A tall African-American boy named James drawled, standing proudly on a concrete basketball court set with two garbage-can goals.

"Well, your brother's got a big mouth!" Jesse spat. The older boy was silent for a moment, studying the stout kid who had brought Team USA. The team tensed, waiting for the repercussions.

"He does, doesn't he?" Team USA let out a breath as James looked down at Russ, who shrugged sheepishly.

"So anyway, we thought we'd call y'all down here to see what you got." James said.

"Yeah, we know you can talk to the press and sign autographs and stuff." Russ cut in.

"We could do more than that." Luis challenged.

"Well we could teach you how to play like the real Team USA." James shot back.

"Man, what would you know about it?" Portman sneered. James only smirked in return.

"Go USA! Go get 'em!" Adam looked up at the chain-link fence at the gang of boys who had reminded Team USA what it was like to play for the country, not some gold medal. They had been playing organized hockey for so long, they had all forgot what it was like to play what Russ had eloquently labeled as "schoolyard puck." True to his word, James had taught them what it was like to play for real pride.

"You gotta earn every inch."

"Ain't no wusses out here either. You keep diggin' until you score that goal.

"And then you take a few breaths, slug some water, and get out there and do it again!"

"Hey,hey,hey,hey! Use the brakes, baby!"

Adam glanced at his teammates. They had all learned something. Portman was humbled a bit after taking a few hard hits from James, Fulton was amazed as he, and the team, had witnessed a slap shot even crazier than his own: Russ' knuckle puck.

Teeing up the puck on its side, Russ swung back and belted the disc towards the goal. Sailing end over end, the puck dipped and doodled through the air before resting in the can with a resounding CLANG

"What the heck kinda shot was that?" Fulton came up to Russ.

"Ah, you like that, huh?" Russ busied himself, dusting off the blade of his stick.

"Yeah."

Russ chuckled, "That's my knuckle puck. It's hard to be accurate, but it drives goalies craaazy!"

Even Ken left with something to think about. James had toughened him up a bit.

"Aww, now you gonna get it." James was advancing on Kenny menacingly. "Come here, junior! Come here!" James stopped abruptly.

"Naw, kid, I was just messing with you." Ken's relief was evident as he relaxed.

"Listen, if a guy comes at you like I just did, you do this. Stick…" James tossed his stick. "Gloves…" Removing his gloves, he threw them at Kenny's stomach. "And shirt!" Finishing the ritual, James grabbed the hem of Ken's shirt and thrust it over his head. "You got it?"

Ken nodded, "Okay, my turn. Stick…gloves…and SHIRT!" Ken repeated the rite, flipping James' shirt off his back and way over his neck. "All right?"

"All right." James answered, affectionately slapping Ken's helmet.

Adam took a quick look over at the small figure skater. Ken was sitting up a little straighter in his seat, and Adam caught a bit of what he was saying.

"Stick…gloves…shirt."

Hehe…I loved that scene. Not to mention I did a variation of it to some jerk who thought girls couldn't play hockey. Apparently, he was dying to meet my fist. I must say, they got along quite well… R&R please! Tell the friends! Thanks to beautyqueen for all the reviews!

Roxie