Of Dreams and Miracles
By Misha

Disclaimer and Notes in Prologue.

Part Eight: The Thin Line

Early September, 1979

With five months to go until Lake Placid, the team went to Norway for the first game of the pre-Olympic schedule.

As had become her custom at practice, Elizabeth was behind the bench with her father. She wore a pretty light blue pantsuit, since Herb had insisted that she wear a suit of some kind during games, and her long blonde hair was tied back neatly.

"Hey Buzzy," Bah leaned over. "Look up there, two girls, blonde." Buzz nodded with a smile on his face and looked up at the girl, who smiled down at them.

"Watch it Buzzy, or I'll tell Gayle." Elizabeth teased, referring to Buzz's wife.

Buzz just grinned. "There's no harm in looking."

"Hey," Verchota called out, "twins, about seventh row up."

"Man they're gorgeous," Silk observed.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

Men, she thought disgustedly, they're all pigs.

She was unaware of the fact that two sets of eyes were glued to her, not to the girls in the audience.

But that fact didn't go unnoticed by her father and his glare deepened. A minute later, the whistle sounded with the scoreboard showing the game a tie with three apiece.

"Get a whistle," Herb snapped at Craig.

The team was on their way off the ice, when Craig intercepted them.

"Get back on the ice," he said.

"What for?" A few of the players protested.

"We'll find out when you get there won't we?" He answered.

The team met Herb in the middle of the rink.

"You don't want to work during the game?" He shot at them angrily. "No problem, we'll work now. Goal line---that one."

The boys lined up on the goal line, and Elizabeth watched cautiously beside Doc as Craig blew the whistle and the players started off.

Blue line, back. Red line and back. Far blue line and back. Far red line, back. By the time they got back most were already out of breath, as Herb continued to yell at them.

"Hustle!" He ordered Jimmy and Steve, weighed down by the padding of the goalie uniforms. "You think you can win on talent alone. Gentlemen, you don't have enough talent to win on talent alone. Again!"

Elizabeth stood in shock as the whistle was blown and the boys started off again, when they had finished that set he continued to yell. She had seen her father be tough plenty of times before, but not quite like this.

"You think you can play the Norwegian National team, and tie them, and go to the Olympic and win?" He hollered. "You better think about something else, every last one of you, when you put that jersey on you represent yourself and your team mates. And the name in the front is a helluva lot more important than the one on the back! Again!"

With another whistle Elizabeth grimaced boys were off again. Her father still wasn't done with them as they finished the newest set.

Elizabeth was aware of Walter standing in the stands, watching her father push the players over and over for a few minutes, before he finally shook his head and left.

"Win, lose, or tie, you're gonna play like champions," Herb yelled. "Again."

By then the boys were coughing and wheezing and hunched over with cramps, but they went off at the whistle. A few of them stumbled on the way back, but they all finished the set with a commentary from the coach.

Elizabeth watched as he repeated the routine over and over.

"Herb," Doc started, coming onto the ice after what seemed like hours. "The rink manager wants to clean the ice and then go home."

"Tell him to leave me the keys, I'll lock up," Herb instructed. "Again!"

Craig gave him a look.

"Again."

The whistle blew and they were off again.

"If you keep playing this way, you won't ever beat anyone who's good, let alone great," Herb yelled.

There was a loud click and the rink was plunged into almost absolute darkness. Some of the boys sighed in relief and began to disperse.

"Hey!" Herb ordered. "Get back on that line."

There were groans all around.

"Again... Again."

The whistle blew and they went off.

Elizabeth watched in horrified fascination as her father ran them again and again. The boys were gagging and sweating and spitting up on the ice.

"Doc," Craig started. "This is madness right?"

"How about you Silky, you ready to quit on me?" Coach taunted. "What about you, O.C., you ready to go down? I think I got my money on you Verchota, of course, you've got a hot date in about an hour, but you're not looking to good for that right now, are you?"

The whistle blew and the boys went off again. Most of them fell at least once or twice in the process, gagging and spitting and retching as they went along dutifully.

"Herb," Doc called. "This has gone on long enough. Someone is going to be seriously hurt."

"Again!" Herb yelled relentlessly.

This time Craig wouldn't blow the whistle.

"Again." He looked over to Coach Patrick. "Send 'em."

"Mike Eurizione!"

Everyone stopped, and looked over curiously to Rizzo hunched over and in pain, just like everyone else.

He spit to clear out his throat in order to continue. "Winthrop, Massachusetts."

"Who do you play for?" Elizabeth heard her father ask.

"I play for," he managed to choke out. "The United States of America."

"That's all gentlemen," Herb said, walking off, as Doc, Craig and Elizabeth ran out onto the ice to help the boys off.
---

After she helped the boys into the locker room, Elizabeth went and changed into dry clothes and then went back to check on the boys.

She drew the line at going into the locker room, besides she knew that if she went in there, her father would kill her. So, instead she was waiting for them when they came out.

Jack was the first one out.

"Hey," she greeted softly, "you okay?"

"Yeah." He told her, though he was wincing a little bit. "Your dad's nuts, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I'd gathered that." She said with a small smile. "But at least it'll be a quiet flight home, you guys all looked wiped."

"I know I am." Jack told her with a grimace. "And sore."

"Here." Elizabeth said and moved behind him, running her hands along his neck and back.

"Does that feel better?" She asked, massaging his sore muscles.

"You don't know how good that feels." Jack told her, closing his eyes.

Elizabeth grinned and continued to do it. She was pretty good at this, mainly because she used to give Robbie massages all the time.

After a moment Jimmy and Silk exited the locker room.

"Are we interrupting something?" Jimmy teased.

Elizabeth blushed and dropped her hands.

"Ah," Jack complained teasingly, "you're not gonna stop because of them, are you?"

"You bet." Elizabeth replied as even more guys piled out of the dressing room. "I don't want to have to give our twenty of those."

Jack just shot her one of his trademark, heart-melting grins and then they headed out to the bus and both got caught up in the hustle of conversation.

Fool, she silently berated herself, you're supposed to avoid situations like that, not instigate them.

Yet, it had felt so natural to give Jack that massage, just like it used to feel when she gave Robbie oneÖ

But it's not the same. She told herself. I'm not involved with Jack and I'm not going to be.
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