Aspiring

It was 8:44 pm, when Tyler Marchand’s plane finally touched down at the Boston-Logan Airport. The coach had sat next to him on the aisle seat and had informed him about what was going to happen. He also finished signing a bunch of papers, in order to officially be an Eagle.

There were times when Tyler blanked out, gazing out the small oval window of the american Airlines flight. He saw all the puffy clouds in the clear blue sky. In the distance he watched the sun sink lower and lower, toward the horizon. It was a really cool sight.

When he got bored with that, he faced forward and saw a few of the female passengers gazing back at him. They waved and giggled to themselves. Tyler, being friendly and a ladies’ man back in Nova Scotia, waved back and smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth. He also gave them a series of sexy looks, including a classic eyebrow raise with a smoldering look. The women squealed, bouncing up and down in their seats. One of the girls actually fainted and gave the flight attendant a miniature heart-attack, to which Tyler apologized and said, he “would stop milking the female passengers with his boyishness.”

He got up with the coach, who patted him on the shoulder and led him off of the plane. They snatched their bags from the overhead, rather quickly and exited the aircraft, kindly thanking the flight crew and pilot for the safe, smooth trip.

They were out of the airport and in the transport vehicle in less than thirty minutes. Tyler was shocked by how fast things were moving. He was eager to get to the college and meet his new teammates. He couldn’t wait to start the next journey of his hockey career!

The sound of skates scraping against the ice, echoed throughout the empty arena, as the Eagles were currently having their team practice. No one spoke, except for the words of their team captain, Fiyero Milan, who would correct them if they made a mistake in their routine.

Tyler was passed the puck by his new linemate, Patrick Cleary, and the teen charged down the ice and neared the goal. The leader of the team grinned underneath the helmet’s face shield, as got ready to block his brother's shot, defending. Tyler shot the puck towards the net, but the captain moved his leg to the side and blocked the shot.

"Got to do better than that rookie!" Fiyero playfully joked, as he passed the puck back into play.

The young man seemed to catch onto what the veteran was hinting at and played along, "Just you wait bro, I'll really bring the fire!"

Off to the side, Zack Greene couldn't help but chuckle as he heard the new rookie kid, "You know what that means."

Patrick was the closest to him and grinned once she heard her teammate. "Yeah, we best get out of the way then."

They all watched as the team goon and fourth liner, Brady Quinn passed the puck back to the young one and saw him speed down the ice. A few yards away from the goal Tyler pulled the stick back and slapped the puck, sending it sailing across the ice at a high speed.

"Fiyero get down!" the Coach called out from the sides, knowing what would happen if his captain tried to block the shot.

Hearing this, the team leader followed instincts and ducked down just as the puck went into the net and ripped right through it and collided against the wall and shattered the protected glass on the other side. Everything stopped as Tyler winced at the sight of the damage he did.

“Oops!”

"Whoa kid I think that was too much heat," Zack commented, shocked at what happened. “Never seen anyone shot a puck that heard here before!”

"Uh…sorry," was all the Nova Scotia native could say, as everyone skated over to the damage window panel.

"We'll worry about that after practice, for now lets continue. Greens switch out with Zilchy," the captain addressed as he skated back to the net.

Zack then skated to the player box as “Zilchy” took his place. Everyone then skated back into formation, as Tyler dropped the puck onto the ice and their practice resumed.

Honestly, Tyler had never been to Boston before and in fact, some were a little shocked to hear that he had never scored a hat trick before. He scored numerous goals back in Nova Scotia, in Halifax, but he had never gotten more than two in one single game.

But with the Boston College Eagles, he finally achieved his goal.

It was the second night of his second week with his new team. The Eagles of Boston College were playing the Hokies of Virginia Tech.

Tyler skated backwards on the ice, perfectly balanced on one leg before easily coming to a one-leg stop. He pivoted around the other left wing, who had been assigned to compete with him in a one on one skirmish, maneuvering the puck away from his opponent. Showing off, he continued to skate backwards towards the goal, his eyes never leaving the fans in the stands, behind the boards.

Bryan Weise, a left wing for the Virginia Tech Hokies, was a good match for Tyler. Although slightly taller and heavier, they were well matched for speed and dexterity with puck handling. The black and white jersey over his padding made him look much larger than he actually was, more like a 5' 12" hulk than a 5'10" athlete.

Despite being four years older than Tyler, the opponent lacked the natural affinity for ice that he had. He hadn't grown up in Canada, a land that practically required ice skates just to get from one house to the next. This man had apparently only decided hockey was his life when he turned sixteen.

Tyler grinned and suddenly changed direction, forcing him to give chase for the puck. He easily spun and twisted, stopping unpredictably, practically dancing around the Hokie. Once he had the puck, there was almost no way for Weise to get it from him, despite other man’s speed.

"Come on, man," Weise tried to chirp. "Let's actually play instead of goofing around."

"Who says I'm goofing off?" He slowed just a little bit, allowing his foe a small opening.

Weise moved closer, hoping to steal the puck, only to have Tyler flip it in the air and balance it on the end of his stick. He continued to flip the puck and stick around, rotating and twisting it in the air, making the puck bounce and never allowing it to touch the ice.

Perturbed by the ease with which this strange and talented man from Halifax handled the puck, Weise hit the hockey stick with his own, finally knocking the puck away. It flew towards center ice, both Weise and Tyler chased it. Weise got there a split second ahead of his adversary and took control. He was determined to maintain possession of the puck after that little show the duck had put on. Completely focused on his task, he hurried towards the goal, Tyler hot on his heels.

"Whoo-hoo!" Tyler cheered as he again got in front of Weise and turned around to skate backwards once more. Smirking, he flipped his stuck upside down and tapped the ice with it in a classic hockey player taunt.

Weise frowned, confused by what the guy was doing. He was thrown and at a loss for words. Normally, tapping the ice like that meant nothing. And he wondered why the guy was doing it. Tyler sighed and flipped the stick over again, easily snatching the puck once more. He spun around and wrist shot it into the net from center ice.

"Well, that was fun," Tyler chuckled, barely breathing hard. "Care to go again?"

"Stupid Canadian," Weise mocked. "You think that was a skirmish? Why don't you actually play the game instead of goofing off like a two year old?" He tried to get face to face with him and stare him down. That stupid helmet on his head, protecting him from a concussion, kept him from getting as close to the man’s eyes as he wanted.

"Hey, I can't help it I'm better at this than you. Maybe if you'd practice some more, you might be able to catch me." Tyler slowly backed away, completely ignoring the supposedly intimidating behavior.

That was it. Weise had a temper and this new kid’s arrogance was too much. He threw his gloves and stick to the ice, balling his hands into fists.

The Halifax native just held onto his stick and watched the other left wing’s pitiful attempt at starting a fight. He'd been cautioned that some players considered brawling in hockey to be part of the game; the fans loved it and it let off steam during intense matches. His new captain, as well as old coach had warned against engaging anyone in a fistfight.

He was meant to score goals, not get in fights. He wasn’t an enforcer like his other teammate. That’s what his family told him, his brother, his father, his old coach and new coach, and his team captain. Everyone told him this and it was etched into his head. He was a scorer not a fighter!

Sure, his old coach had drilled it into him to not be a fag. And he remembered the “fag” conversation, but this was different. If he was actually challenged by an player or someone like Brady Quinn, then of course he wouldn’t back down. He would stand his ground and fight back if need be.

Tyler didn't care what anybody thought, but he wanted his team to join the league and post many wins and there was no way he was going to be the one that kept them out of it.

Weise moved forward, throwing a punch in the Eagle player's direction. He easily dodged it, moving sideways. The irate left wing tried grabbing for his jersey to hold him in place so he could land a punch.

Laughing, Tyler started pulling Weise across the ice, as if this were a game to him. Struggling to maintain his balance, holding onto the young man’s jersey, and throwing punches, Weise fell to the ice. He was grabbed by Tyler’s temporary linemate in Brady Quinn. Brady began to swing punches at him.

CHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP! A whistle interrupted them. Coach Wilson, a tall graying man who had played hockey professionally himself skated out to them. This was the same guy who had recruited Tyler Marchand from Halifax. And the young hockey star owed him for having faith and trust in him.

"Break it up! Weise, back to your bench, now." He carefully studied the slightly shorter man in front of him, not bothering to check if his order was being followed or not. "That was some impressive skating," he started. "But you're too much of a show-off. Cool it and you might make it in the league."

"Thanks. Let’s carry on with the game, though?"

“Fine. But behave. Remember you are here to score me and BC some goals, not pick a fight!”

"What?" His voice rose in disbelief. "I didn't fight him."

"No, you just did your best to humiliate him in front of everyone else. But, that’s Quinny’s job. That’s why we have an enforcer." He turned on his skates and returned to the bench to send the next two players out for their skirmish while Tyler and Weise circled the perimeter, glaring at one another. Weise eventually returned to the bench, as told and took his spot.

Tyler took his spot at the faceoff dot, before the game quickly launched back into action. He calmed himself down and got back into his game-plan and strategy. He sped forward, deking around a distracted defenseman and put in his second goal. High blocker side, right into the net.

Tyler skated by, bending down in his forward motion, as he mimicked brushing his hand across the ice, before returning to his skates. The fans were on their feet and cheering loudly. The excitement hung in the air. And an energy was ignited in the college hockey arena.

“Yeah! Nice pass, Greenie!” Tyler screamed, rounding the goal and skidding to a halt on the opposite side of the net. He watched the goalie fish the puck out, angrily and send it to the ref, before tipping his mask up and getting some water.

Tyler’s linemates smashed into him and patted his head. “Way to go Marchy! Sick goal!”

Ten minutes later, the Coach went to the red hot top line with Tyler once more. They took the ice and that’s when Tyler earned his third goal of the evening. A milestone accomplishment.