Winter of Discontent

Roleplay Library
1

Summikalad Spektrum

Saturday
http://www.hockeyarenas.net/hockeyarenas/stadien_5/ua/kievspor/kiev3.jpg
The arena had filled nicely for the second game with Salamkudush. The first had brought about 3500, with 1000 empty seats. This time that wouldn’t happen, as for a change, they’d won. 3-0, a shutout.

Tonight Misha was hoping for a repeat, although with more urgency, as last night’s win had been a sloppy shutout, if there was such a thing. But this time, the goals came quickly. Balodis redirected a point shot in the first period to make it 1-0. In the second, Mike Fediuk one timed it into the top corner to make it 2-0 and of the next face off, Viktor Atonovich won the faceoff, kept the puck, split the defense and fired a slapshot into the low corner. It was 3-0 after the second period, but Misha still had criticism.

“The first line has to be better. You only have three points between the three of you so far!” He looked at Jason. “You don’t have any! How can you be my top line Left Wing if you have no points?” The criticism was harsh, but it worked.

On one of the shifts in the third period, Jason spotted his center, Sergey Aspitis, in front of the net. He fired a pass at him and Sergey one timed it off the left post with a backhand. He tried again and the puck again hit the post and knuckled into the air. With the goaltender prone, Jason, who had broken for the first rebound, backhanded the puck out of the air and into the net, 4-0. Jason skated off with his linemates after a short celebration, the Torpedo goalie right behind him, he was finished. The game ended with a 4-0 final and an afternoon match on Sunday to finish the series.

Pipkin: 1 G, +1, 2 Shots, 17:53 TOI
Heinley: +2, 23:01 TOI

A phone call came into Misha’s office as he studied the score sheet after the game. “Misha, Dan Rowley from the big team. Say, you don’t think that your December first deadline could be moved back, do you?”

Misha sighed. “No.”

“Well it’s just that we’re still hurting up here and we scouted the game tonight and came up with oh, I don’t, know, about 10 players we’d like moved up.”

“TEN! What in the hell are you saying! You do realize I only carry 20 players.”

“21 now. We sent you Jun Komachi.”

“God, not that guy. He’s only the spare forward you kept because you didn’t have anyone better. Why not release him outright?”

“Hey, don’t tell us how to run our team. Look, as of right now, I’m liking your starting 6 players. Its clear to us that they’re vastly superior to about half of ours. We’re getting killed in the standings Misha, we have one freaking point! The coach threw a clipboard at the referee!”

“Look Dan. You know I’ve been doing this awhile, I can’t tell you how many bad starts I’ve been through, You need to play at least 10 games before you can truly tell. Sure, some of my boys can help you, but most of them haven’t played professionally much and the one who has hasn’t played recently. We have the cup matches next weekend, we’re playing Anadahl. They’ve got Michael Adhakov and he’s a stellar goaltender, see how they score on him.”

“Ok Misha, you’re right about the Cup matches, but don’t expect much after December 1st. That isn’t even binding, it’s just that we know how lucky we are to have such a good affiliate, so we’ll take your word on this.”

The phone went dead as Rowley hung up.

He saw his top line heading out for a meal.

“Boys, come in for a second.”

The three walked in.

“We’re playing Anadahl next week, the Dragons. They’re not too strong out front, but they’ve got some good defenders and their goaltender should be the #1 on the national team. Friday at their rink, Sunday here, aggregate, away goals, all that. The scouts from Coocoobad were here tonight, they implied they wanted you guys, I know you all want to prove yourself beyond the Spektrum, so it’s your opportunity. And one more thing. You answered my challenge well Pipkin, but don’t make me make another one. I expect you to motivate yourself. Now go eat.” He looked at Martins Vyater, his captain. “Take your two linemates, the 16 year old kid from the steppes and Kel-chek here and find somewere nice to go.”

Aspitis was 24 and Kel-chek was a sort of slur, although Misha didn’t mean it like that. He hoped the pressure wouldn’t get to them. He knew Martins could be a star in the CHL, but Pipkin he wasn’t sure about. He had a good work ethic, but still played lazy, if that was possible. He hoped to send him back to his home soon enough, so he would be a test case for how Coocoostan could develop players. Misha was a patriot through and through, but he knew that Coocoostan’s strenght was only so deep and after about 40 players, they were very weak. It would help, he knew, to have the younger players in this league challenged by Kelssekian outcasts instead of walking over the pylons who made it into the pro ranks these days.

2

Kirkenes Dragons scouts meeting

The monthly meeting saw almost all the team’s scouts in the conference room at the team’s offices. As usual, a couple were still away on their assignments, but the scouting staff all managed to meet up once in a while.

“Sorry I’m late, fellas, and sorry it’s me. Practice overran today and no one bigger can make it, but the GM says… oh, so he could come after all…”

The general manager walked into the conference room. “Right, let’s go.”

The scouts handed their folders, stuffed with scout reports, towards the head of the table, and took turns highlighting their finds.

“…will be draft-eligible next year, and the Coocoostanis are getting some attention, but not a lot, so we could pick him up late, under the radar. And there’s also Jason Pipkin. Since he was released he’s gone to this lower league team in Coocoostan.”

“What kind of standard are they?”

“I’d say between Div 2 and the Conference, that kind of level. It’s a feeder league for the main one, they use a feeder system there. Anyway, he’s been playing quite well. I don’t remember his stats off-hand, I noted it in his report, but especially since we still have his rights, I think it’s worth keeping an eye on him. And a lot of Div 2 clubs seem to be interested, because I bumped into two of their scouts in Coocoostan.”

“Tell me when he’s got some Div 1 attention. That’s all?”

“Yes, sir.” he said, retaking his seat at the meeting table.

“Okay… Luke, whatcha got?”

3

Game Summary

Sunday, November 19
CPHL Game Summary

Vitkor Atonovich scored the winner with just three seconds left in regulation as Automoblist Summikalad defeated Torpedo Slamkudush 5-4 at the Summikalad Spektrum.

…

Pipikin: 1 A, -2, 3 Shots, 2 Hits, 18:48 TOI
Heinley: -2, 26:29 TOI

4

Summikalad Spektrum, Summikalad

The players had arrived around 5:30, like normal. They’d begun changing into their hockey underwear and some kicked around a soccer ball in the hallway as Misha waved them into the dressing room. Tonight they played the Anadahl Dragons in the first of two games for the first round of the national cup, a competition featuring the 16 professional teams in the country. The ten of the CHL and the 6 of the lower CPHL, such as Automobilist.

“Ok, Boys, their forwards are actually weaker than us. The reason is because they spent so much money on contracts for their best two players. The first is Mike Hawthorne, he’s their #1 Defender, he’ll be out half the game easily and mostly against the top two lines. His partner Montgomery is also better than the six of you. The top six forwards will have to pay attention to him if they expect to win. But their rock is Michael Adhakov, who will surely be the next starter for the national team once Rawlins retires. He’s a solid goalie, but he’s a stand up kind of guy, so shoot low. Ok, let’s go for warmup, the clock’s already going.”

As they skated out, they were instantly aware of about 1,000 fans in the yellow,red,blue and white jerseys of the Anadahl Dragons. They’d been in Coocoobad for many years, but moved to the western city for this season. The ultras were the worst, they didn’t stop drumming and chanting “DRAGONS!” the whole time. Automobilist didn’t have a fan base like that yet and couldn’t match the fans who’d come from both Anadahl and Coocoobad, among other places, for the match. It was a TV game, as all national cup matches were, so the added pressure was even more. On top of that, the South Coocoobad scouts were watching, to see how their minor-league side would match up against a team they themselves had lost to 5-2, the previous month.

The game started with the teams trading shots. Adhakov stopped a hard slapshot and after the whistle, taunted the shooter by pointing his glove at him. Automobilist looked alright to start and Misha watched as the Dragons made an errant pass into the corner.

“You were right Misha, they do have some sloppy forwards.” Viktor, acting as Assistant coach, said to him.

Not a second later, another Dragons player skated into the corner and got the loose puck, made a backhand pass into the slot which another player one-timed into the top corner. The defence hadn’t gone after the first player, or covered the second.

Thomas Heinley played his usual gritty defence, stealing the puck with a pokecheck and clearing it. Misha had been unhappy with the first line’s first shift and told them to step it up before sending them back out almost seven minutes later. Jason Pipkin waited for George Balodis to finally change off before he swung his legs over the boards. He didn’t have a chance to get into the play in the Automobilist end before Tom won the puck and hit him with a long clearing pass that was almost a two line pass. He saw a good rush forming and sprinted to the blueline with a three on two. He saw a defender coming for him, it was Montgomery, as Hawthorne’s distinctive green visor gave him away. Still, he had the extra step on Montgomery, but he lost it when Montgomery read the play and turned to head backwards. He pushed Jason in the face while he tried a toe drag before he fired a low shot like Misha had said, Adhakov stopped it an turned it into the corner, like a true pro. Montgomery went in for it and Jason went after him, forcing him into a bad pass that was picked off inside the line by Sergey Aspitis, his center. He passed it to Jason after selling a pass to the other linemate, Martins Vyater, which gave Jason a clear shot. It went of Adhakov’s pad and as Aspitis went into the end boards after the puck, Hawthorne hooked him by the face, drawing a penalty. Misha patted Jason on the back as he made it back to the bench. “Much better. I should call you out more often.” he said, only half-kidding. He was only on the bench for a minute before he was back out for a powerplay shift. Automobilist’s goalie chopped his stick on the ice as the penalty expired. The first intermission saw the Dragons ahead 1-0.

Misha put his hand on the shoulder of Stephen Holowka, his goaltender. “Keep it 1-0. I’ll rally them, just make it so when they start playing they have a chance.”

The first ten minutes of the second belonged to Automobilist. The last 10 were largely even, Anadahl was a team that was really only talented at the back end, so they were content to play a 1-0 game.

Jason was still the biggest threat to Adhakov, as he got the puck alone in the slot and looked for exposed spots. He found none as he waited for almost a second before taking a bad shot. He got another great chance when Adhakov went to cover the puck but decided to play it at the last second, putting it off a defender’s skate. It sat in the blue ice as Jason fired it off Adhakov’s chest. Another shot. Still, it inspired the team, as did the play of Holowka and finally it paid off.

8 minutes into the third, Automobilist again set up on the attack. This time it was Oleg Tsarik skating for the loose puck. He passed to Atonovich who fired a shot that rebounded off Adhakov’s pad and back at Tsarik along the side boards. He passed it through Atonovich’s skate and to Ivan Kravchenko who was alone in front and backhanded it into the top corner. He jumped into the air ever so slightly and all of a sudden, after it being like a soccer match for nearly 50 minutes, the Spektrum was alive.

The sound of the air horn drowned out the Dragons fans for the first time all game. The goal announcement was also loud, as in the European tradition, the Rink announcer said the scorer’s first name and the crowd shouted his last. The tie brought on more tension than being down. If only they could make it to the shootout, they’d have a chance. Misha wanted to beat some CHL teams and show the whole league that he could still coach at the top level. But the tie didn’t last long. On a scramble in front of the net, Anadahl scored on a rebound as it came loose out of a crowd and the scorer shot it through a clump of four players in front of the goal. Holowka never saw it coming.

Automobilist played a complete game, and got some chances that were only stopped by amazing saves but still, in the end they lost. Misha congratulated his troops and left the room breifly before returning with a black contruction helmet with yellow stripes on it, as per their jerseys. He set it down on Jason’s lap. “I hear this is popular where you’re from, yes?” Jason cracked a smile, but was still upset at losing.

“We still have another game against these guys, it’s a two game series. If we win the next game by two goals, or if we win the next game by scoring three goals we move on. We can still do it!”

It was like the playoffs before the playoffs to the players. But for the handful that were on the verge of going to the top league, it was the potential for payoff that was the greatest motivation.

Heinley: 2 Hits, 25:43 TOI
Pipkin: 6 Shots, 3 Hits, 20:19 TOI

5

Western Place, Anadahl

The team was largely in awe of the 11,000 plus seats in the arena, and how it was actually quieter because of the size, as the ultras section had the same number of people as Friday. Jason wasn’t phased, as he’d played at the Air Kelssek Centre before. If you could withstand the pressure there, you could play in front of 50,000 anywhere else. Still, this game involved Coocoostan’s Dragons instead of Kelsseks, with the latter being far more storied a team. The fans in Anadahl had raucously cheered their junior team at their tiny recreational arena and had attracted the Dragons HC to move from the capital. It had worked well. As the Dragons came out, fireworks exploded in the rafters and the ultras set off flares, which they did not throw on the ice, as it was against their own code to damage the playing surface. A few did land in the bench though, along with a smoke grenade that gave off blue smoke and CNP officers quickly collected them and others climbed the railing to go arrest the man who’d thrown it. They hauled him away to the jeers of the crowd.

The game started quickly after the cleanup and a few more arrests. After an Anadahl rush into the Automobilist end, it was a 3 on 2 the other way. Martins Vyater saw Jason break for the goal and hit him with a pass that he one timed into the back of the net for an early 1-0 lead. Still, with Anadahl having won the first game 2-1, they’d win on Away goals, they had to keep going.

The 1-0 lead stuck until the second period, in which Anadahl took a penalty. Still, it didn’t matter, as a careless pass picked off by an Anadahl penatly killer was put into the goal. 1-1. Automobilist tied quickly though, as a quick pass from the corner to the front of the goal made it 2-1 after 40 minutes. They’d scored twice, against the best defence pairing on the team both times. The intermission speech was tense.

“Ok, boys, you’re ahead and this current result would force another game, but if you can score just one more goal, you can win it all here. Another game means you’re here for two more nights and then you play on two days rest instead of four next weekend, when we’ll be back into the league schedule. You’re playing well, just make smart choices and you’ll be on to the next round.”

The third period saw many good chances for both sides, but like so many others came down to the final minute. Mike Hawthorne, the best skater on the Dragons team, took a shot off his foot and stayed down, having to be helped off. The Dragons coach had to be thinking about pulling the goalie, wanting to force a shootout where he could win the series. He didn’t want another game any more than Misha did, as his team played throughout the week instead of on weekends. Sure enough, he pulled him and Automobilist got a 3 on 2 with the empty net. “SHOOT! Shoot it Faikov!” But Faikov tried to pass to someone in the middle and it was picked off and reversed. Stephen Holowka saved the shot and held on to it. After a few more series like that, they finally won a faceoff and took it out. “SHOOT!” Misha shouted, but they held on to the puck until the buzzer sounded. A 2-1 win. They’d both scored 3 goals and two each on the road, so a replay was required.

As the team walked down the tunnel a man in a suit with a clipboard grabbed Jason by the elbow. “Hold on bud, you’re number two.” The man took aside another Automoblist player who’d scored the winning goal and they waited until the announcer came on. “Here are tonight’s three star selections.” After a dragons player skated out, the man tapped Jason on the back. “Ok, that’s you.”
“Tonight’s second star, from Summikalad, number 9, Jason, Pipekin.” After the other player had been introduced as the first star, they walked back to the dressing room, where the majority of the players were laughing, apparently at Jason. “What’s so funny?” Jason asked, genuinely confused.
“It’s just that you’ve got a new nickame…Pumpkin.” The room erupted in raucous laughter again.
“Don’t worry, being second star means you get two points towards tournament MVP.”
“What’s more funny?!” Misha asked, somewhat annoyed. “The fact it took you 11 games to think of such an obvious nickname, or the fact that two of you wouldn’t take the shot to ice the series? Now we’re staying here. Their arena is bigger and the tournament organizers want to sell it out on Monday. That’s right, no rest day this time, me and their coach both want to get past this and focus on the league, so we play tomorrow night. Pipkin, that’s another good game, keep your helmet.” He scowled off.

6

Western Place, Anadahl

The game had again been fast paced. Automobilist had scored first, Jason had passed the puck to Vyater who was stopped on a one-time backhand, but Sergey fired in the rebound after Mike Hawthorne tried to pick it up. Then Anadahl had scored three goals in three minutes and things rapidly went from cautiously optimistic to trying to stop the bleeding. On the faceoff, Anadahl won and skated into the attacking zone. A pass from the point to a forward in front was one timed into the net. 4-1, only 45 seconds after 3-1 and only 8 minutes into the game.

“Come on dammit! Do something! You’re handing them this game! There’s still 52 minutes left!” Misha was livid. It wasn’t worth the lost day of rest to play this poorly. A slapshot rang off the post not long after. Misha looked at the replays of the goals. 3 of the 4 were the defence’s fault and the third was soft, which one could blame on the lack of faith in the defence. He tore a chunk off them.

“What in the hell is wrong with you?! I’m talking to everyone. Only Gavrilovs(Backup goalie) is absolved of blame, because he hasn’t played…yet, he will if this keeps up. You’re not checking them tightly enough. Just because you squeaked a win out yesterday, doesn’t mean you own these guys.” He turned to Balodis, who’d had the shot at the empty net the day before, which would have put them up by two and given them the series on aggregate. “You see what you’ve brought us? Next time, when you have an empty net, shoot the goddamn puck! You don’t pass it to your teammate to pad his stats. Hockey’s no place for niceties like that. If you want to play like that, you can go play for fun somewhere else, which you will be, unless I see some professionalism from you. That goes for all of you!” The clock in the dressing room ran down to 2 minutes. “Ok, let’s get back out.”

As the players left, looking somewhere between downtrodden and inspired, he held back Tom. “Heinley…the biggest one you can find, as soon as you can. Remember, don’t get called for being the instigator.” Tom nodded and they headed back out.

Anadahl hit the post again about seven minutes in. “Jesus you guys! Pick it up!”

Sure enough, someone did. Viktor Atonovich, one of the smallest players on the team, besides Gavrilovs, played like someone twice his size and knocked his own rebound out of the air and into the goal. 2 minutes later, Slivchenko took a good pass from Fedotov and slotted it under Adhakov’s arm, to make it 4-3. They were back in the game. Misha changed his strategy from one of chipping away to pouncing on the momentum. But first, he walked up to Heinley on the bench. “Heinley, never mind. We’re back in the game.”

The momentum had clearly shifted the way of Summikalad, they got the best chances, while Anadahl lobbed slapshots from well out, one of which hit the crossbar. It was still 4-3 at the second intermission.

“Much better. But still, not good enough. They let you guys back in, now make them pay for their mistake.” That was all there was.

Anadahl had tried to sit on their lead, but it hadn’t worked. They were under seige in the third as well, with two breakaways for Summikalad. Thomas fired a slapshot just wide of the goal. Jason almost scored on a wraparound. They were the better team for most of the game, bit their slumber in the first period was on the verge of costing them. The last minute was tense. Anadahl scored with thirty seconds left to make it 5-3. That was likely to be it. Sure enough, it was.

“See what happens when you slack off like that? You played maybe 9 bad minutes that whole game and you lost. That’s not at all acceptable, or fair to you. I can’t beleive you’d disgrace yourself like that. If you think that it’s a day off tomorrow, keep thinking, because tomorrow, 8AM, I’m going to skate you guys until you puke. Pipkin, you worked hard again, but Atonovich, you worked harder.” He took the black helmet out of Jason’s locker and gave it to Atonovich, who had to make it smaller so it would fit.

It was hardly the practice alone to look forward too. Misha changed their reservations, at least some would claim, and they flew home on a cargo aircraft, getting let off in Starlight city and taking taxis, out of pocket, back to Summikalad. Again, the billboard greeted them.

Automobilist vs. East Beach, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

It would be the last series before Misha’s imposed roster freeze. Roughly half the team would be moving up to the CHL. Just who remained up to those on the team.

Pipkin: 1 A, +1, 2 Shots, 1 Hit, 24:55 TOI
Heinley: 23:34 TOI

7

Summikalad Spektrum, Summikalad, Ondakastan

The fans were into it a lot more than past games. Viktor had suggested sewing Ondakastan flags onto their jerseys, over the numbers and it had worked. The Ondaks were proud of their regional history and they played off it well. The last game, yesterday had gone poorly. The East Beach Batz, the other team from Los Santos had played well and won 3-0. A lot of the players were letting up because of the deal with the big team that they could call up whoever they wanted after this series. Misha tried to fire them up but they went down 3-0 after 2 periods. He knew just what the team needed. He walked over to Tom Heinley. “I need you to see about motivating the team in your special way.” Tom nodded. It took him just 14 seconds to find a willing combatant.

He skated behind another Defenceman, Weatherdon and tapped him on the back of the skates. “Fight?” it was simple as that. Weatherdon had dropped his gloves many times before and he didn’t have to be asked twice. He threw several punches into Tom’s midsection before he was able to get his hand free and start throwing back head shots. Tom had his first attempt at putting his opponent down blocked, but the second one hit hard and sent him down to the ice. Tom skated towards the penalty box at first, but remembered they kicked you out for fighting here and reversed course for the dressing room. He changed into his suit and walked up to the press area, where the only healthy scratch was sitting and saw that it was 3-1. Then, Bob Lindsay, one of East Beach’s Alternate Captains, a career minor leaguer, went after one of the Russian-speaking players, Bilik. Bilik fought back but he still lost. Still, Tom could see he’d started a trend. They’d close to within 3-2 before the Batz scored on a breakaway. Automobilist scored with the net empty to pull to 4-3, but an empty net goal made it 5-3. They’d now lost 3 games in a row, cup and league and 4 of their last 5. This team would be broken up after the next game, with callups and assignments, but still, it hurt to lose. Tom walked to the dressing room in time to see the post-game speech was over. “Heinley!” Misha waved him into his office.

The office was clustered with plaques, medals, team pictures. It was a museum amongst itself. “Heinley. I’m sure you know a lot of people are going up to the Rams after tomorrow. That includes Martins, so we’ll need a new captain. I was thinking it should be you. The drawback for you is that you’d have to stay here all year, I’d need you to serve as a leader for the kids here instead of try for the pros. I should tell you that South Coocoobad did want to call you up but I said no, as I wouldn’t let anyone go up. They only want you as a fighter though, but I think you have the potential to be more here. You don’t have to decide now, but think it over and tell me tomorrow.” Tom walked out and started off for the hotel, passing a group of drunken students in their team scarves who cheered as he walked by. It was a lot to think over and it would only be once he got back to the Globe that he’d know which choice was the best.

8

Summikalad Spektrum

“Come on Cavallo! What kind of effort is that?” Misha was livid. He’d just finished patching up the lines after the callups to South Coocoobad and it didn’t look good. The Rams had called up the most of any team after the rosters were unfrozen. They’d taken 5 players. Only Heinley was left out of the starting six and that was because he had held him back, as his offer of a captaincy was still outstanding. Most of the players who had come down looked slack. They’d been sent down for a reason, and a good one at that. With a four days until the next game, Misha could only hope that the opposition was having the same trouble.

Western Place, Anadahl

Jason realized as he walked in that this was the only road arena or road city that he knew in the whole country. The Rams were playing the Dragons now and 5 of Automobilist’s players would be called up to the big team. Their new coach met them on the way to the dressing room. “Mike Flowers guys, listen, here’s your new lines. Vay-a-ter? is that how you say it? You’re first line. Pipkin, you’re second. Aspitis is third. Gards, you’re on the first defensive pair and Holowka is starting.” The first line had been completely broken up, but at least they were here.

The national cup games had prepared Jason for the pace of the game well. The only difference was that his team was just as deep as Anadahl’s, which made the game a little more tiring. The Rams played well, as the new players filled in key positions, making the lines strong enough to score. It was 3-0 after 1 period. Aspitis had assisted the third goal and Vyater had gotten one on the third goal. Jason walked into the dressing room and saw a small letter taped to his locker.

— Begin quote from ____

Pipkin,
You need to play as well as you did to be promoted. Otherwise, the novelty of a new player could wear off and you could be back here soon enough. Remember that you are a playmaker and pass to open linemates. A bad pass is preferable to hesitation.

Play well.

— End quote

It wasn’t signed, but sure enough Jason knew who it was from. The game got a little more open as the Rams’ struggling star forward, Rick Haith, who had lost his spot on the national team, scored to make it 4-0. The team looked great. Michael Adhakov, the National team’s goaler of the future was pulled. But soon, the Dragons callups from Kalibad began to make the difference and it was 4-2. Jason’s line headed out. “Come on boys! Finish this off!” Flowers shouted at them.

Soon after the faceoff, Jason saw that a defenceman was breaking out with the puck. He got open on the right wing and took a pass to lead the rush. They passed back and forth, looking for a good shot. Jason noticed how much more disciplined these players were about shooting. A linemate took a shot and the rebound bounced behind the net. Jason went in after it. As the defencemen were confused about who had to go after him, Jason tried the wraparound and watched as the Anadahl backup slid across to the wrong side, the red light went on. It was 5-2 and Jason had done something he’d never done before, scored a goal at the highest level, even if it wasn’t at home.

League commissioner Marco Puhdahl was in attendance and smiled at how his plans of a minor league had worked so well. The two GMs had watched the game with him and commented on how most of the callups would be kept. South Coocoobad fought off a late comeback and won 6-4. It was the beginning of some careers in South Coocoobad and the end of others in Summikalad.

Summikalad Spektrum, Summikalad

“URRRA!” Viktor shouted as Jason’s shot went in. “That letter of yours was a good idea Misha, you’ve helped him score!”

“Only helped him though. The potential is there, you just have to coax it out slowly, like smoking a meat. He’ll be back home if he plays like that.”

9

Summikalad Spektrum, Summikalad
Shortly after practice, Heinley made his way to Misha’s office, and, after knocking and being admitted, sat down in one of the seats facing Misha’s desk.

With no introduction (besides the ‘hello’ he’d given at the door), Tom immediatly jumped onto the topic that he knew was at the forefront of Misha’s mind. “I’m too old to solely be a figher in the pro leagues. And far too old to risk my pension by going all out in that position. What’s more…I’m too old to start again, so if this all falls apart…I’ve gotta find a day job.”

Tom smiled. “Which we both know I couldn’t do. So, yea, I’d be willing to stick around. And I’d be willing to fight.” Heinley leaned forward. “But you had better be serious about developing me into something more. Because if I want to get past the point I got to back in Christie, I’ll need something more to tote then the ability to punch.”

10

Summikalad Spektrum, Summikalad

Misha smiled slightly, which even still, was a rarity. "Good.Good! Then I think we’re at a consensus. I don’t know if you know about my job history, but I am an expert in the long-term development of players. That’s why I had my old job so long, because they knew a losing season meant better players. Your defence is improving. You’ll continue to play on the first pair, only now Sharov will be your partner. He’s teamed up well with you, even better than Gards. Still, now that you’re captain you’ll have to be a relative example in on-ice behaviour. I don’t know exactly what happened with you elsewhere and in all honesty, its no concern of mine. Now…"he reached and pulled out the two "C"s that Vyater had on his home and away jerseys.

“Take your jerseys and these to the equipment manager and he’ll sew them on. It will take discipline on and off the ice, but at the very least, I can make you a career minor leaguer. The Rams want to call you up when they’re playing a team with a real tough man and I said they could do that once or twice during the week, even so you just have a story to tell back on the islands.” They shook on the deal. “One more thing, when the kids, especially the new ones just sent down start to brag about how they used to play in the big league, shut them up. I don’t need their garbage, they’re equals.”

11

Taking the two Cs, Tom stood and smiled, perhaps a little too wickedly. “Trust me…it’ll be my pleasure.”

12

OOC: I was all pissed off figuring out how to make Heinley the captain in the game, as they changed it from the old way, so I played a scrimmage and sure enough the game picked Heinley to take over the C once I did all the callups. I’m a natural judge of talent.

13

Salamkudush Ice Hall, Salamkudush, Ondakastan Republic

The first two games had gone reasonably well, a split. The third one was crucial for momentum, as the team hadn’t lost a game in the first series with Torpedo Salamkudush, but this time was different. While Torpedo had lost one player to callup, Automobilist had lost 5. Tom Heinley, or “Thomas” as coach Misha Afanasenkov had begun calling him, as a show of confidence in his new Captain, had been focusing heavily on improving the offensive aspect of his playing defence, as he was more of a defensive specialist, among his other more aggresive talents. In fact, he’d recently been passed in fighting majors on the team and was now in second. It was all about cycling the puck, Misha had told him.

At practice the day of the trip, Misha had tottered over to him on a very old pair of leather skates. The skates didn’t offer much support to the foot, while Misha’s knees were giving out, as he was approaching seventy. “Once you set up in the attacking zone, you have to play the point and cycle the puck. You either pass it the other defenceman and he’ll shoot, or you pass it to the winger playing the low corner, who will pass to the man in the slot. Just make passes around the edges as your teammates set up instead of passing it through the middle. It’s almost at foolish to do that attacking than defending you know.” He’d tried it, as had the bottom three defencemen. He’d picked up a little, before it was onto the bus for a trip to Salamkudush. They went down the A4 for a good six hours before arriving. On the way, they’d hit Ulgava, one of the largest cities in the country and home to a CHL team. They’d even seen the Ice Dome as they’d passed through. It was an odd looking arena, shaped like a sphere, with an adjoining building used by the team. Tom thought about Jason and how he was enjoying his new team, where from all accounts, he and the other callups were sticking.

It was now Sunday, and after arriving on Thursday night, they’d practiced Friday morning and won 3-2 in a Shootout, their first win in the Shootout in three tries in the regular season. They’d lost 5-2 on Friday night, looking very flat and uninspired.

The game was back and forth. Torpedo scored first and Summikalad tied. Automobilist took the lead and then gave it up just as fast. In the third period, they moved in on the attack, Sharov, Tom’s new defence partner, passed him the puck and he returned it. Sharov took a good slapshot which was deflected by the man in front and past the goalkeepper for a 3-2 lead. He skated off and was caught off guard by the PA announcer. “…and to number 66, Tom Heinley. Fedotov from Sharov and Heinley…” It was his first point since moving over and Misha was about an congratulatory as he got. “See what happens when you cycle the puck?” He had indeed.

The next day, Summikalad

Tom had arrived back at the Globe Hotel after an optional skate in the afternoon. Misha didn’t give many optional practices, but it gave his men a rest for aches which could turn into injuries if not allowed to heal, so he expected the healthy guys to show up. It had been the Powerplay this time, as Misha gave “Thomas”, the respect of a Captain allowing him to stand beside him while he lectured the players from the lower lines, while at the same time, treating him like a blank slate, which when it came to the powerplay, he was. Misha was trying to live up to his end of the deal and it showed.

The hotel restaurant had a crowd gathered in front of the TV. “Tom!” it was Mario Cavallo, one of the players sent down from the Rams. “South Coocoobad is on TV, come watch your old teammates!” he did, there wasn’t anything else to do anyhow. They were playing the BSC Tornadoes, from Starlight City, the best team in the league so far. The game started ok, with the Rams even leading breifly, but they lost in the end 5-3. Martins Vyater, who Tom had replaced as captain, had a goal and an assist. As a result, he was named third star. Jason Pipkin also picked up a goal, his second in as many games in the big league, with a deflection on a shot from the point. They lost, but they, according to the TV personalities on the panel in between games, looked much better since the additions.“It looks like the new players are here to stay.” one of the suits said. Mario as well as Jun Komachi and Sylvain Kaboursalay looked down at their table. “We’ll never get back.” Komachi, who had been the 13th forward, and had only played a game, in which he’d scored,but still, the Rams brass weren’t impressed and he’d gone down, he hadn’t been dressed in any of the games on the trip and was pretty upset. In pro hockey, as they’d begun to realize, one man’s rise was another’s fall.

14

Summikalad Spektrum, Last Sunday

“66 Black, hook!” The referee was quite clear.

“You can’t be serious, he almost dove through the boards!”

“No, you’re gone.”

Tom skated towards the box. They’d just gotten the lead back too. They were up 3-2 to Kalibad with 39 seconds left. With time ticking down, the Mustangs pulled the goalie, but it wasn’t enough. Masulis put his third into the empty net and punched his ticket for the bigtime. The game ended 4-2. Automobilist had won 3-2 in a shootout and 5-2 the night before to take 5 of a possible 6 points and move into second place. Misha was very happy.

“You all deserve the break you’re about to get. Christmas isn’t until the 7th, I know, but still, for some of you…Cavallo! A name like that probably prefers the 25th, hmm?” He nodded, laughing. Cavallo was Italian enough that the early Christmas was his favourite. He walked over to Tom. “If you want to return to the FPS for awhile, you’re welcome to. We don’t play again until the 29th.” He walked off.

“The Block”, West Coocoobad

The Summikalad Five, as they were now known, were well liked, although Martins had been drawing special attention ever since they’d wandered into this bar. It was a tiny place built out of an old house, but it was part of “The Block”, Coocoobad’s best block of bars and clubs, so it was ok. A drink was still 5 bucks at least, or 15 gropeks or whatever it was. It wasn’t even that good. “Do you have anything any more my speed?” Jason asked, his vowels giving him away. The bartender smiled and nodded. “I get this under the table, I pay full duty, but its IFTA, you know?” he showed him a Kirkanee bottle from under the bar. “It’s 20 'peks.” Jason didn’t really like the idea of buying a smuggled beer, but it wasn’t like there was anything worth drinking here, other than some beer called “…berg…something berg anyhow, it’s from San Andreas,” as the barkeep had put it. It was the first Kelssekian beer in over a month and even at 20 gropeks, it was worth it. The barkeep had decanted it, so it was alright. Coocoobad was a blur, a huge city, the sheer size was similar to Kirkenes, but while Kirkenes was a stereotypical block by block city, Coocoobad was a tangled mess. The team had been playing well and so had he and with the 2nd round of the National cup coming up, against East Beach, a CPHL team no less, life was good. Suddenly a blond-haired girl betrayed by her black roots asked a question in furious Russian. Only Martins was the target of mad Russian girls, so he pointed her in the right direction. She walked over and started arguing with him and the girl he was dancing with. Rats, this beer was going to be rushed. “Brown bag?” The bartender asked. Jason finished it off in a giant gulp. “No thanks, I’ve pushed my luck enough for one day.”
They walked to the next bar while Martins took the ribbing of the other four. Coocoobad was a nice city, but it still wasn’t home, especially when the team hadn’t yet told him to look for permanent housing. Back to the 2-star hotel it was, Soviet Quality at its finest.

15

http://www.ticketexplore.com/venues/images/Great_Western_Forum_Tickets.jpg
Visitor’s Dressing Room 2, Los Santos Forum, Los Santos, San Andreas

“What in the hell was that?!!” Misha was red with anger. “They skated like their skates were made of cement! And it’s scoreless! You had SIX SHOTS! Pick it the hell up!” The layoff was killing them. Yes it was an afternoon game, yes this was the first game after a long Christmas break. Still, it wasn’t christmas in San Andreas, so that was out as an excuse. Misha was so mad that Viktor made him wait for a few minutes before coming back to the bench, lest he get a penalty…or have a heart attack. Viktor told them that Misha was that mad…they scored 1:15 in, with Tsarik on the backhand. Los Santos was the type of team with many hangers-on, who were only still on the team because of Coocoostan’s lack of depth. There was simply nobody better who was old enough. They were all still juniors, so the minor pros were safe for a few more years, until the new crop of hardworking kids came up and took their jobs.

Tsarik scored another goal within the first minute of the third and things looked safe. A 2 on 2 turned into a good chance for Los Santos, with the shot going wide. “That was your man Heinley!” Tom in the offensive zone as they cycled the puck, something they’d practiced. A pass came back to Tom at the point, he passed it to Lopatin in the opposite corner and a pass into the slot was flicked into the top of the net by Slivchenko. He arrived at the celebration a step after the two forwards. “That’s good!” Lopatin said in his thick accent as he punched Tom in the shoulder. They skated past the bench. “That’s it skip! Nice pass!” Mario Cavallo had become much more of a team player thanks to Tom’s noticeable scowls. Tom had himself another point. As he changed off, the forward line stayed out and scored again to make it 4-0. That was it for Del Rio, who was pulled. Even Misha had no idea who was the other goaltender. “Who is in net?” he asked.

“That’s Matt Kell. He was a big prospect for the Panjuhr Owls, but since they drafted ANOTHER goalie in Murphy…” Tom said, before Misha cut him off.
“Ah yes, young David. He’s a good goaltender in the making, but he’s not ready for the CHL not confident enough. Goaltenders always take longer to develop…and sometimes, defencemen.” He looked at Tom for the last sentence with a small smile as time expired not long after, a 5-0 victory for Summikalad. “So what do we do now?” one of the russophones on the team asked.
“Dance clubs are big around here. There’s one about ten minutes away.” He walked over to Tom. “There’s a quiet bar around here if you just want a beer and some pool. Ten Green Bottles, take a cab and don’t walk around the neighbourhood, but it’s your kinda place. Have fun skip.”

“Good 40 minutes boys. Practice is at 9 tomorrow. Let’s see if you can learn to play a whole game against these stiffs.” Misha walked into the coach’s room to watch videotape with Viktor.

16

Visitor’s Dressing Room 2, Los Santos Forum, Los Santos, San Andreas
Sunday
“What the hell was that!!?” it was eerily familiar. Misha looked at Tom. “That second goal was partially your error. You threw the puck into the middle, when it should’ve gone out off the glass.”

“These guys may now have a good record, but they’ve got some up and comers, just you remember.” Vik chimed in. Tom had been at Ten Green Bottles until two, and six BROWN bottles had sat in front of him before he left, or more accurately, was poured into a taxi. It was the last time, at least he’d hoped, he knew Misha knew and wasn’t happy. He wasn’t the only hungover one, although as Captain, he was supposed to set an example. The second period didn’t start much better, as he let their Captain get a step to the outside on him and fire a slapshot into the low corner, 3-0. “Masamura! Get your gear together, you could get some work soon.” Misha considered putting in the backup. It was 3-0 after 40 minutes. Another earful soon followed. Misha wasn’t too worried however, as much as he wanted to catch Las Venturas for first,as they were only two points out, he didn’t like losing to the last place team, especially like this. Still, in the long grind of a season, it couldn’t be a season of perfect games. They’d won 5 in a row.

Another goal went in, to make it 4-0 and sure enough Masamura saw his first action of the year. He’d gone from the big team’s backup to the little team’s backup in short order and had a lot to prove to team brass, as the only position there were plenty quality free agents in was in net. A pass aimed at the net sent him the wrong way, reaching for the top right corner, when it slid past the open net at the bottom left, not a good start. The first shot on goal against him saw the pads stacked to turn it aside, that was better. The third shot was a simple redirect in Misha’s opinon, and it went in. 5-0, now that was reason to be worried. They’d gone out and gotten sauced after a meaningless win and it was an embarrassment. They were read the riot act.

"25 shots and not one goal? What did you guys do yesterday!? You just got blown out 5-0 by the worst pro team in the country. Curfew is…right about now actually. "

He walked out and stopped by Masamura’s stall. “One more performance like that and you’re washing cars. You looked like a little lost lamb out there. Were your 4 years at the Panjuhr Hockey Academy a waste of money? You start tomorrow. That’ll tell the tale.” Misha hoped that the kid would crack and that they’d get routed, so they could go home and have a mini-camp before the next homestand, really work the players back into the game mentality after a long holiday break. “Oh, by the way, Merry Christmas. Vik, in my office.”

The two walked into the coach’s room. “What I’m doing, so you know, is a win win thing. If he loses, like I think he will, the team will get their heads back into it. If they somehow win, they’ll have to have played well, as the kid’s just not very good. Gavrilovs is becoming complacent. He knows his starter’s job is very safe and he’s only an injury from going up.”

Monday

After the national anthem, Tom skated over to Masamura, Shin and patted him on the shoulder, just to let him know he had 5 players in front of him, or so he hoped. It would really drag the team down to hang him out to dry. It was 1-0 at the halfway mark of the second period, things were going ok. Masamura looked better in a full game, although he was lucky as well. It was still 1-0 after two. It was only 6 minutes from time when Los Santos tied the game on a good play, to make things a little scary. They got a whole lot scarier when Los Santos scored again, less than a minute after. It had taken a long time, but the young goaltender had shown his true colours in Misha’s eyes. Tom did his best to keep it only 2-1, so they could pull him and go for the tying goal, as he laid flat on the ice to keep a forward from doing anything other than taking a bad shot. He came out with 40 seconds left. A forward missed the empty net, but got it back. 3-1. Masamura’s head sank into his hands, but Misha pulled it back up, he still had to finish the game. They won the draw and Misha pulled him again. This time it worked, as Tsarik finished a great 2 on 1 to make it 3-2 with 4 5 seconds left. They lost the draw and eventually Balodis shot it well wide from the blue line. Another loss. When they got back to Summikalad, they noticed Masamura’s locker had been emptied, as he’d agreed to leave the team. The game had convinced him that he was chasing an empty dream. He was the first player to go from the CHL to the CPHL and then be released. As hockey was a cruel business, he would not be the last.

South Coocoobad Arena

The 5 callups were brought into the Coach’s office. He had a curt message for them. “Boys…” he looked at all of them. “The GM told me to tell you today and this is something I agree with completely…that you should all move out of the hotels you’re in once you find something more permanent, as we’ve decided you will all stay up for the year. Congratulations.”

17

Summikalad Spektrum

Practice had been hard, but there was no scrimmage, as there was now only one goalie. The team was changing out of their pads to head for a shower when Mario Cavallo, quick to say what was on his mind, started talking. “Hey Jun, do you know where your buddy the backup went?”
Jun Komachi, who hadn’t played since being sent down, waited before responding. “Shin said coach told him to stop being such a fool and give up on hockey. That’s what he did, quit the game cold. Pretty rough for a guy who in September was at a CHL training camp. I wonder why the coach got on his case so badly?”
“Simple.” said Sylvain Kaboursalay, another send-down from the Capital. “He’s a racist. You know who he’s kicked off his teams?” Kaboursalay had the room’s total attention now. Tom tried to change the subject. “Who’ve we got this weekend boys?”
"East Beach, skip. Now…"Kaboursalay picked up where he left off. “He had TJ Wong on one of his Army teams and cut him loose because he was ‘too small’ and JP Puhdahl applied to the Army school and was rejected. I’m telling you, he’s an old school Soviet racist.”
“I doubt that’s true.” The usually quiet Yuri Lopatin spoke up. “Masamura was a nice guy and all, a good guy to have in the room and opening the door on the bench, but the kid was far behind the other goalies in this league. You saw how many close calls there were. You know that the Rams were never bringing him back up.”
“Ok then. He hasn’t played Jun here since he showed up, how do you explain that?” Cavallo was really chirpy when he wanted to be, which hadn’t been much lately, but still too often.
“Well, maybe he isn’t good enough. It’s a tough game” Kozybaev said under his breath.
“You question my toughness because I have funny eyes? My grandfather fought in the loopite war AND the lizards. How many goals in the bigs do you have this year? How many games?”
“At least I’ve got a spot in a lineup instead of just practice.”
“You want to change that? You can’t play if I kick your head in!” Komachi was furious.
“Kids! Can you keep it down? There’s not a shred of proof about any of this. Kozy, I know you’re just trying to help, but keep it to yourself. Komachi, if you want a spot in the lineup, quit slacking in practice. Now change the subject.”
“Damn East Beach, they’re a dirty team. Lots of fighters, eh Grucincev? You could show skip who the best fighter on the team is.” The slavs laughed, while the send downs from the big team didn’t crack a smile, save for one. Tom walked into the coach’s office to see Misha and Viktor sitting there. “Tom! Grab your coat, we’re going scouting. I’ll teach you a skill you can use after hockey.”

South Side High School Arena, Starlight City.

“You didn’t mention that the high school was in the city Misha,” Vktor said, as he stretched his back.
“Come on, they’ve already started.”
They walked in to find two teams of about 12 total playing on a high school rink. There were tiny chunks out of the boards, no glass and a referee sitting on the timekeeper’s bench, running the clock and doing the scoresheet at the same time. “So who’re we after coach?”
“I don’t know, you tell me after the game.” They watched the game, which was pretty even, with the High School team taking the lead in the final minute, only to give up a tying goal with 6 seconds left and have their centre poke it in right away. They won 8-7. “So, guess who.”
“I hope it wasn’t a goalie, 8-7? I hope they had fun.” Viktor had no idea.
“I’m not sure either coach, they all looked pretty slow. They played the body too much too.”
“What? Mr. Enforcer thinks the high school kids are too physical? Wasn’t it obvious, the centre for the high school team.”
“But Misha,” Viktor said “You can’t take a kid like that, he has to be drafted.”
“No. I found a loophole. The draft only covers players who play in the Premier Junior league. High schoolers aren’t covered.”
“But its in the spirit of the rules!”
“But it’s not in writing.”
“Well, let’s go wait for him to come out.” Tom finished it off and they went to wait. They waited. Waited some more. Finally, the kid came out about an hour later…stinking of beer.
“Hey son, can I have a few words with you?” Misha asked him.
“Sure. FARK OFF!”
“Do you have any idea who we are?”
“A bunch of losers with nothing better to do than watch my hockey game?” Tom was getting pissed off. “We were here to scout you, but obviously we’re wasting our time.”
“Scouts? But I didn’t even sign up for the draft.”
“We’re from Automobilist Summikalad, how’d you like to come skate with us tomorrow?” Misha was moving too fast.
“I mean, sure, but how are you able to take me without the draft?”
“You never played premier junior, only minor junior, so it doesn’t count. We’re stretching the rules a little, but that’s why they make them. So what’s your name?”
“Ric.”
“Well Rick. This is Viktor, my assistant coach and Tom, our Captain.”
“Hey…wanna beer?”
“Sure, that sounds…” Vik looked at Tom with a pretty angry expression.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow…where do you guys skate?”
Misha stayed to talk to his boy wonder, while Vik and Tom walked to the car.
“Can you beleive this stunt? This snot-nosed kid is going to play on our team.” Vik knew Misha wouldn’t send him away. “I doubt that. Tom said. I think I know exactly why he’s doing this and I can guarantee that kiddo will be headed home before this time tomorrow.”

18

Coocoobad Arena, Coocoobad

It had been a close game, sort of, but the Rams had lost to Intel Coocoobad 4-2. Jason had scored another goal, which put him in a tie for 2nd on the team. That said quite a bit in itself. That put them at 2-6-2. Not exactly where they wanted to be. They had gone from losing to competitive, but it wasn’t enough. Coach Mike Flowers had insisted he didn’t need any more callups. He walked up to Jason, “Good job kid! You’re firing 'em in faster than they can pull 'em back out!” he patted Jason on the shoulder as he walked into his office. The treatment that Misha had given him in Summikalad was different, but this even more so. He was concerned with having all the players like him, almost more than winning. Their next game was against the Coocoobad Red Menace, Misha’s old team, at home. Flowers was in his office being told that if he couldn’t at least get to a shootout, he’d be looking for work. It was definitely conflicting emotions for Jason, he was playing great, as were his friends who had come up with him, but the team was lax. Practice was lax, curfew was lax, the dressing room was very cliquish, with the “Summikalad Five” being one of them, the team’s problems were well beyond bad bounces. Still, things weren’t all bad, Jason had been pointed to an old government apartment in West Coocoobad, by the Airport and a chinese restaurant called the Golden Dragon. It was four small rooms, but 500 gropeks a month, which was dirt cheap. Plus it came furnished, sort of, as the last tenant had been arrested and the furniture given to the building’s owner as payment for outstanding rent. It was ok. The police had been there twice the previous night, breaking up the two halves of a domestic argument.

Summikalad Spektrum

“Oh! Bet you didn’t see that coming!” Ric Brodhead managed to put a good deke on Sylvain Kaboursalay, who turned to keep up with him. The kid skated into the corner, with Kaboursalay in hot pursuit. Mario Cavallo, a friend of Sylvain’s, slowed, so Ric would have no one to pass to. Sure enough, he froze in the corner and Kaboursalay levelled a punishing check on him, knocking the wire screen on top of the glass loose. “I KNOW you didn’t see that coming.” Misha blew his whistle. “Ok, that’s enough.” Ric laid on the ice, holding his gut. “No show off crap son. You work, or you pay your own way home.” Oddly enough, that’s what he did. He put his head down and skated, making enough of an impression that when he walked in, a new locker,“44-Brodhead” was where an empty one had been. A new goaltender, Christiensen, had also showed up. He was another guy from a hockey academy senior team with a new lease on life. He was a little better than Masamura according to scouting reports, but not by much. Still, Misha had one more move to make, as he called the general manager in South Coocoobad, looking for permission to move a player in a few days, which he received.

19

Los Santos Forum

Tom had blown it. They’d been up 2-1 with only 9 seconds left and he’d let a forward get away, while at the same time not tying up the man in front and he’d pushed it in. 2-2. Tom skated to the bench, knowing with out even looking at Misha was glaring at him, he could almost feel his glare burning through his helmet. A shootout would decide it.

East Beach had a lot of long shootouts and this one was hardly any exception. After 8 shooters, it was done. They’d lost, but still won two of three. When they walked back to the locker room, two men in suits were waiting for them. “Mikhail Afanasenkov?” one of them asked.
“I know who you are Fetisov. Tell me, how is a suit like you still in the sport?” Misha was hardly happy to see him. The feeling was mutual. “You have an illegal player. Its a loophole, so it won’t cost you any points. However, you are suspended for three games and your club is fined 25,000 gropeks. You can keep the kid’s rights, but they can’t be transferred to South Coocoobad or any CHL team until the end of the season. Plus, he is to be assigned to a Major-Junior team immediately. Otherwise, he must be released.” Fetisov said his bit and walked away. “What!! You can’t do this you bastard! I didn’t cheat at all!”
“I’ve got 25,000 reasons that say otherwise, now have fun.” Fetisov and his underling walked away. “Bah. Oh well Viktor, at least I know where to send him.”

Sure enough Misha knew a Major-Junior coach in Vityazk City who needed some players, as Major-Junior players were highly sought after. You could play junior in Coocoostan until 22, but even still, while there were many skilled players in the country, there was little depth, so quite often, there was nobody left. On top of that, many junior players didn’t want to be drafted, as they couldn’t afford to be bounced around the minors. Still, it was better than sending the kid out onto the street and sure enough, he was on a bus to the CAO the instant they got back to Coocoostan. “It’s Dynamo Vityazk son. They’re a good side, with a good coach, have fun.” Misha said. “Hey!” said Mario Cavallo as he read a copy of Coocoostansky sport, “Shin Masamura’s back into Juniors. So are Kumagai and Komachi, they’re going to go back into the draft!” Apparently with the addition of a new team in the CPHL and a new CHL team, many younger players who’d originally quit hockey had been lured back. Junior was a time for fun, as you wouldn’t have much in the professional ranks until much later. When they got back to the Spektrum parking lot in the early morning hours, Misha walked into his office and began to put together a list of players who should be sent up.

20

Air Kelssek Centre office tower

“…how stupid can you be? You think I can just make a player in another country sign for your team?.. yeah… No, I do not want any players. Pipkin got released because I had too many players.” Then the GM snapped. “Well, maybe it’s because your organisation is shite then!”

He slammed down the phone. “Stupid Div 2 idiots don’t know how to run a freakin’ hockey club,” he muttered as the secretary buzzed him to let him know that one of the coaches wanted a word.