“He’s probably thinking that this is his last chance this year, Alf, and he wants to make a hit. He— Gee, he will get killed if he tries that sort of thing!”
“Come now, Gerald!” sang out Alf. “This isn’t a slugging match! Keep your stick down and look what you’re doing. You, too, Roeder! Follow up, man, follow up!”
The Second managed to score twice in that half and the First broke through the opposing defense for four more goals. Then Andy called a halt and, in spite of Alf’s pleading for “another five minutes, Andy,” drove them off the ice. After they had had their showers and had dressed, Alf and Dan and Gerald left the gymnasium together.
“What was the matter with you this afternoon, Gerald?” asked Alf with a smile. “You looked as though you were trying to kill the whole Second Team.”
“Got sort of excited, didn’t you, chum?” laughed Dan.
“Well, you mustn’t get excited,” Alf said. “If you do you can’t play good hockey. You’ve got to keep cool all the time and know just what you’re doing. Let the other side lose their heads. If they do you’ve got the game cinched. Just as soon as you go up in the air you forget all about formation and begin to play the game all by your lonesome. And as soon as you do that you’ll find that the other chaps are eating you up, goal after goal. Remember that, kid. Next year you try again. You’ll be a good deal heavier then, I guess, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t make the team. And get your Y,” he added with a smile.
“I’m going to get it before then,” said Gerald gravely. “I’m going out for the Track Team, you know.”
“Of course; I’d forgotten. Well, I hope you win a few points for us, Gerald. For in spite of Tom’s blathering I have an idea that it isn’t going to be so much of a walk-over after all. You got the cup, you said?”
“Yes. And I wanted a hot chocolate but I didn’t dare go into Wallace’s for it. I pretty nearly froze coming home.”