Fever Season by Eric Zweig Read Free Book Online

1916.
    â€œThey aren’t drawing crowds like they used to,” David’s father said. “A lot of the men who used to go to games are soldiers now.”
    So were some of the men who once played the games, but not enough for everyone. David had seen angry letters in the newspapers, and just outside the Arena, someone had stuck up a recruiting poster for the army. On one side it showed a soldier fighting all alone. On the other side there was a crowd watching a hockey game. The words said: WHY BE A MERE SPECTATOR HERE WHEN YOU SHOULD PLAY A MAN’S PART IN THE REAL GAME OVERSEAS ?
    â€œThere are a lot of people who don’t think men should be paid to play hockey when others are fighting and dying in the war,” David’s father said. “But since some of us have to stay at home, at least it’s nice to be able to read about sticks and pucks every now and then instead of always rifles and mud.”
    Although the crowd inside the rink was much smaller than before the war, the fans still let Joe Hall have it when he came out onto the ice with his Bulldog teammates. David joined in the chorus of boos.
    A few minutes later the referee blew his whistle and called for the teams to line up for the faceoff. Newsy Lalonde was slow to take his position. He was waiting for the Bulldogs’ centre to get tense and edgy. Finally, he took his position, and when the referee dropped the puck, Lalonde’s stick snapped forward like a serpent’s tongue. He drew the disk behind him and spun around to get it.
    â€œCome on, Newsy!” David shouted as the Canadiens’ captain controlled the puck and turned toward the Quebec end. On his right side was Didier Pitre. On the left was Jack Laviolette. The blazing speed of the three Montreal forwards had prompted newspapers to dub the entire team “The Flying Frenchmen.”
    Using Laviolette as a decoy, Lalonde drew the Quebec defence to the left.
    â€œPitre! Pitre!” the players on the Montreal bench hollered.
    Lalonde’s manoeuvre had opened up the right side, and he slipped the puck across to Pitre. The burly forward bore down on the Bulldogs’ net, then, with a quick flick of his wrists, fired a shot that just missed the far side of the net. The puck boomed off the back boards.
    â€œNo wonder they call him Cannonball!” David cried.
    The rebound from Pitre’s powerful shot bounced out in front, but the Quebec goalie swatted the puck into the corner. Lalonde chased after it and circled behind the net, searching for an open teammate.
    Laviolette dashed into position for a pass. David saw him tapping his stick on the ice, calling for the puck, but before Lalonde could make the play, Hall pushed him into the boards. The hit was clean this time, but the crowd screamed, anyway. David noticed the referee watching the two enemies glaring at each other, but nothing happened.
    â€œLooks like they’re going to stick to playing hockey tonight,” said a man who was seated next to David’s father.
    Throughout the first period Lalonde led the Canadiens on the attack, only to be turned back by Hall and the Bulldogs.
    â€œWhen he chooses to play by the rules,” the man next to them said, “Hall’s one of the best defencemen in hockey.”
    Finally, Lalonde got the better of him, beating Hall with a burst of speed and then setting up Pitre for the game’s first goal. Newsy tapped his teammate on the butt with his stick, then mussed his hair with a gloved hand as they skated to centre for the faceoff. Just over a minute later, Pitre scored again, and the Canadiens took a 2–0 lead into intermission.
    Because the pace of the game was so fast, both teams used their substitute players more than was usual during the second period. This seemed to help the Bulldogs, who scored three times to go ahead. However, with all the regulars back on the ice to open the third period, Pitre scored again and the game was