Big Town Star

By Lashawnda Sanders

The small town of Loon Lake has been in decline for years. Forced to send their kids to rival towns' high schools, the people there had little left to enjoy. Their bright spot was Theodore Byers, a rising hockey star and the first freshman to make the Elk Grove High School hockey team. But where does the town go from here when tragedy strikes and his career is over before it even begins? When hockey is your life, can you truly let it be taken away from you?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9781304283221

Book preview

Prologue

The dressing room didn't stink. It didn't smell clean, but it didn't reek of months of sweat. Really, it had no smell at all. That was a sweet smell. A dressing room full of eager hockey players with no stink in it meant one thing and one thing only.

The season was about to begin.

Frank Dawson adjusted his team jacket. It was a little snug, leftover from the previous coaching staff. He was a little...wider around the waist than most. He didn't let it bother him, however. He would gladly wear rags to the game, so long as he could have a role. He loved this game, much like most of the people in the town of Moose Track Falls. Much like most of Canada.

It was his debut as the head coach of the Moose Track High boys' hockey team. As was often the case, they were opening the season against their rivals, the Deer Valley Bucks. Gone were the days of facing off against their neighbours in Loon's Lake. The Loonies were theirs now, not that those boys made the Moose Track High team very often.

That had been arrogance from the previous coaches. At least, for the most part. Loon's Lake was a poorer town, and hockey was an expensive game. It was merely the slightly greater wealth in Moose Track Falls that gave their boys the edge. But, that wasn't to say that the Loon's Lake kids weren't talented. Not at all. And many of them deserved the opportunity to make this team over the years. Especially one.

Especially Theodore Byers.

Frank glanced at the lone freshman in the room. He was about average height and weight for his age, but as a fourteen year old in a room with kids mostly two or three years older than him, he definitely appeared on the small side. He didn't appear intimidated, though. He looked eager. He looked ready.

Byers seemed to feel Frank's gaze and looked up at him, his brown eyes curious. Frank winked at him and then he glanced to the other side of the room, where the second youngest member of the team was. Tanner. His son.

Tanner was more animated than Byers, but Frank could see the difference in their readiness. Tanner's eyes were wild, his hands were fidgety and his mouth flapping like a flag in the wind. He was nervous.

Frank didn't blame him. High school hockey was different from the youth hockey Tanner had grown up with. At least here. In many places in Canada, high school hockey was a minor footnote in the wider game. But in Moose Track Falls, and some of the surrounding towns, it was huge. It was the town's pride and joy. Being on the team was a big deal. The first game was a big deal.

The opening match against Deer Valley was a huge deal.

Frank felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up, seeing his assistant coach giving him the signal. It appeared the Zamboni had cleaned the ice. It was time for the two teams to make their way out. It had been a long time since Frank had played hockey himself, at least competitively, but nonetheless, he felt that familiar pang of nervous excitement in his heart. Finally, the season was beginning.

All right, boys! he shouted, getting their attention immediately. This is it. Home opener against our rivals. They're stepping on our ice. What does that mean?

We stomp 'em! the team yelled in unison. Too quiet for Frank's liking.

I said WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!

WE STOMP 'EM!

MOOSE ON THREE! ONE! TWO! THREE!

MOOSE!

Now let's get out there and win a hockey game! Byers, Dawson, Gordon at forward. Joseph and Deslaurier on D. Wesley in net. LET'S GO!

YEAHHH!

Frank grinned as his team charged out of the dressing room, yelling like maniacs. He closed his eyes, nodding to himself a moment later as the crowd joined them. A fired up team meant a fired up crowd. That Deer Valley team would see exactly what they were in for.

Frank followed after his team a moment later and then made his way onto the bench. He looked left, right and straight ahead, taking in both teams and the crowd. The teams were simply warming up and the intensity was already high. But still, Frank could see the stares from the visiting players and their coaching staff, and even shock on the faces of the Moose Track High fans.

Because one player stood out as he took his first few laps around the zone, gracefully stick handling the puck and smoothly turning the corners in perfect stride. The baby blue jersey of the Moose Track High team suited him well. He looked like the wind as he picked up his pace. He locked his eyes on his target, and pulled the puck back in preparation for a wrist shot.

Ping!

The puck rang off the crossbar of the empty net, bouncing up high in the air, before landing perfectly at the centre of the top of the net. As the goalie took his place, he swept the puck off, just in time for Theodore Byers to skate past and collect it. The fans gasped again, and Frank looked at the opposing team's coaches. They fidgeted uncomfortably. They knew.

Byers had done it on purpose. A shot off the crossbar on an empty net was a common superstition among players in hockey warm ups. Not everyone could aim so precisely, though. Not everyone could finesse their shot so well that it circled above the net and died on the spot in the very centre after striking the crossbar so hard.

Fourteen years old, and this kid was impressing even with his superstitious warm up shots.

Frank remembered two weeks before when the principal of the school had looked over his submitted roster for the team. He'd been shocked to see four Loon's Lake kids on the roster. He'd been speechless to see that one of them was Theodore Byers. But Frank had stood strong in keeping him on the team, despite being the first freshman to ever make it. Frank had watched Byers play in Loon's Lake's program. He'd garnered a lot of attention from Moose Track Falls, and even towns further away.

Theodore Byers was the best player Loon's Lake had ever seen. He was the best player Moose Track Falls had ever seen. He was the best player those Deer Valley coaches on the other bench had ever seen.

One day, he would be in the National Hockey League.

The buzzer to end warm ups sounded after about two minutes, and the referees shook the hands of the coaching staffs and the team captains. The teams huddled around the bench quickly to receive one last pep talk before the game. Frank let the captain do it.

All right, boys! Let's give 'em hell out there! Byers, light 'em up like the hotshot you are!

"YEAHHH!' the team cheered, with the exception of Byers, who grinned shyly.

The starting lineup skated out to the faceoff circle at centre ice, while the goalie went to his net. The rest of the players filled the bench quickly. None of them sat, each leaning over in anticipation as the two teams prepared to begin the game.

Byers stood a few feet back from the faceoff circle, waiting as the referee approached with the puck. At the referee's signal, he glided forward, ignoring the stare of the opposing centre, and the excited murmurs of the crowd. He leaned down, placing his stick on the ice, watching as the ref ensured both teams were lined up.

There were three times in which a hockey arena full of fans was gripped by silence...

One of those times was the moment just before puck drop. Each team on the bench leaned forward to watch their teammates engage in the first puck battle of the game. The fans held their breath as they prepared to cheer their team on for the next sixty minutes. And the players on the ice entered a completely new state of mind. A state of obsession. Obsession over one, tiny piece of black rubber.

The referee dropped the puck.

Often, the larger player had the advantage in a faceoff. They could use their size and strength to position themselves in a way to overpower the smaller opponent in order to either tie them up for a teammate to get the puck, or simply force the puck back to one of their defencemen. With Byers, size was no issue. He was far too quick.

Before the puck hit the ice, he plucked it out of the air with his stick, sending it smoothly back to the left defencemen. Frank could see it already. His team had been ready for Byers' skill, and while their opponents had glimpsed it during warm ups, they couldn't possibly have been ready for how quickly he saw the game in real time.

The puck was quickly chipped up the left side, where Tanner had already pulled away from the opposing team's winger off the faceoff. With the Deer Valley positioning already in disarray, it was easy for Tanner to skate hard up to the opposing blue line, unchallenged. And just as the defencemen managed to skate over to block his way, Tanner slid the puck over to Byers, who was skating too fast for the other defender to have even the slightest chance to check him.

With a simple head fake, Byers was past the lone defender and in on a breakaway. At this point, everyone knew. A player like this wasn't going to miss. He faked a shot and pulled the puck back, causing the goalie to go down and then launch himself forward in desperation. Deftly sliding around the sprawled out goaltender, Byers flipped the puck perfectly over him and into the net.

It had taken about eight seconds from the moment the puck had dropped. A slick faceoff win and a dash into the zone to startle the defender, before pulling the goalie out of his net to deposit the puck inside with a simple flick of his wrist. This kid was for real. The crowd let him know it. And so did his team.

YEAHHH!

F'n right, Byers! Let's go!

Frank didn't react. Not outwardly. His heart was pounding on the inside, of course, but he knew hockey too well to get too excited. He needed to keep his team grounded. They were a younger group, prone to mistakes, even if skilled and equipped with a weapon like Byers. They only had three seniors on the team. Deer Valley had an older group, built up over the last two seasons to compete for a championship this year. They would adjust, and they would be ready for