Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2003 14:38:29 -0800
From: DG
Subject: Slapshot part 1

Ok, here's the standard; this story is mine, all mine, don't copy it for
profit, but feel free to read, print and save the thing for your own
personal use.  If you shouldn't be reading stories like this one, don't get
caught.  The non-standard thing about this story is that it's going to be
about a trio type love story, sex may or may not occur, and I'm not going
to describe the physical characteristics of the boys until I get feedback,
or complete the second chapter.  The story is set in the early 80's and
depending on which way the readers respond to the tale, the characters may
or may not have std issues.  This is the first time that I've written a
story that I want others to read, it is complete and utter fiction,
although some of the events could occur, I have no proof that any of them
actually did.  Any hockey hero's mentioned are there for the flavour of the
tale and as far as I know have rarely if ever had sex.  The number
characters signify a change of viewpoint.

Slapshot chpt 1 Gwin's point of view

God created hockey in Canada, and it was good.  There is no better sport,
southerners and foreigners just don't understand that up here in the true
north Hockey is the religion that binds our society together.  Ivan, Virgil
and I grew up together in Edmonton, Canada.  We lived in the same
neighbourhood, went to the same schools and we played on the same teams
from the first time we hit the ice.  I'm a centre, Ivan is my left winger
and Virgil plays right wing.  I think our coaches must have suspected how
close the three of us were even when we were little kids; we always played
on the same line, for some reason we always knew what the others were
thinking and the results showed on ice.  Don't get me wrong, none of us
were a Gretzky, Kurri, or Semenko, but for our age and how we played
together we were the best in the city.  Our story really began in 1983, we
were 15 turning 16 at mid-season, mid-season was also our birthdays -
December 23, 25 and 27 - we had this game with our arch-rivals the
Wolverines and things got a little bit out of hand just before the end of
the game.

Our team - The Bulldogs - was tied with no score going into the third
period.  The first two periods were kinda standard, parents in the stands
hurled insults at the coaches, refs and the players.  The kids on the ice
were moving the puck back and forth from one side to the other and getting
into the odd fight on ice before and after taking penalties, but the two
goalies - Mark Wolcott for the enemy and John Smith Bulldog extrordinare -
stopped every shot.  The first faceoff of the third period was the last
time that the three of us actually played hockey.  The puck was dropped and
I won the face off, passed to Ivan and we broke through the Wolverine line
and started to work the puck to their goal.  Ivan passed to Virgil, Virgil
took his shot at their net and on the rebound I wacked the puck into their
net.  Of course we were happy, perhaps I shouldn't have called their team a
bunch of rabid dogs nor should I have said that the goalie couldn't stop a
puck if he was fatter than the net.  Anyhow one of the Wolverines
defencemen, Jeff Wolcott, took offence at my remarks and he fired the puck
at me while I was hugging Ivan and Virgil.  I didn't think I had a glass
jaw, but getting hit by a puck in the face isn't a pleasant experience.  I
was in a bit of discomfort - hockey injuries do not hurt, just ask any
coach and they'll agree with me - at the hospital I found out that not only
was I missing part of my front tooth but my jaw was broken and would be
wired shut for the next 6 weeks.  Of course the ref called a game
misconduct penalty against Jeff, but Virgil and Ivan weren't too happy
about the shot that knocked me down.  They dropped their gloves and started
to fight, Jeff did pretty well at defending himself against my two mates he
stayed on his skates for at least 5 seconds before falling to the ice with
Virgil and Ivan on top of him.  Virgil and Ivan weren't able to do too much
damage to Jeff before his brother the goalie skated up and gave Virgil a
savage kick to his head.  The skate carved a nasty scar into Virgil's face
from his mouth to his jaw.  Later on after the swelling went down, the
girls at school, Ivan and myself thought the scar made Virgil one of the
hottest young men in our school.  Virgil's parents didn't agree, but they
were from the States and just didn't understand hockey.  Ivan was dragged
off Jeff by the ref and sent to the lockers, Jeff and his brother were
taken by the linesmen to the penalty box and to the enemy lockers
respectively.  The game continued as Virgil and I were taken to the
hospital and we won 1-0.  It was good to leave the game on a victory.

The good thing about getting visible injuries in Hockey is that the other
kids in H/S were less likely to be concerned about my sexual orientation,
since I didn't whine about having a split lip and chipped tooth, there was
no way that I was gay.  The bad thing was that my parents who were from
Wales didn't like the idea of spending more money on dental work, nor did
they like the idea of my being hurt again.  On the way back home from the
hospital the 'rents decided to talk at me about the situation.  My mom
opened the "conversation".

"Gwin, we're concerned for your future." Words that no teenager ever wants
to hear, I could feel my face start to pale.  "The doctor's have told us
that you won't be able to play hockey again for another six weeks.  Your
father and I have decided to refuse to give you permission to keep playing
such a dangerous sport."

Of course being the responsible near adult that I was I reacted in a mature
and rational manner.  "Hockey's not dangerous!  You can't do this to me!"
It was kinda hard to yell at my parents loudly enough with my jaw wired
shut, but I was doing well enough.  "It's not fair, I didn't do anything
wrong! You can't make me stop playing hockey goddamit!"

"Enough!" Bellowed my father, "you're a child, and it's our responsibility
to make sure that you're prepared for life, and life has never been fair.
You will not speak to us like that!  We can and will stop you from
continuing to play hockey, it's a barbaric sport!  You have been badly
injured, your jaw is broken, you have a chipped tooth and if you're not
able to keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk to your mother I'll
take you back to the hospital to have your lips sewn together!"

"Honey, we love you and are very worried.  We know that you're in pain and
need to go straight to bed, so just rest and we'll continue this discussion
tomorrow morning.  Today's been stressfull enough for all of us and I'm
sorry that I've upset you by telling you of our decision tonight.  Trust
me, by tomorow you'll agree with us that it's time for you to move on, and
start playing a nice sport like soccer."

I was too mad to say another word, I knew that my parents are very loving
and only wanted the best for me.  But to my mind they were trying to deny
me the opportunity to play in the NHL.  An unforgivable thing for a parent
to do to a child in Canada as far as I was concerned.  Ok, so my mouth was
starting to throb and the idea of going a month and a half without a burger
or other solid food wasn't something that I would like much.  To stop me
playing after what I saw as a minor hurt was outragous.  To suggest that I
start to play a girl's sport like soccer was like asking a Muslim to eat
pork, or a Hindu to eat at McDonalds; Blasphemy!  They might want to talk
to me about this, I decided not to say another word to them until they
changed their minds.  Ooops, maybe I wasn't so mature after all.  Perhaps
had I spoken with them in a calm manner about how important Hockey was, I
might have convinced them to let me keep playing.  My heart was breaking
over the idea that I wouldn't see Ivan and Virgil on the ice again.  I
didn't really understand that I was in love with my buddies, I knew that I
wasn't gay even though the only wet dreams that I ever had featured both
Ivan, Virgil and me.  Even though the sight of them made my stomach ache
and my dick tingle, there was no way on earth that I was any kind of
faggot.  I didn't suck dick, it was just my fondest desire.  The feelings
would pass in time, my priest assured me of that.

###################### Virgil's point of view

The game was awesome, Gwin, Ivan and me were the master's of the ice that
night.  Sure the skunks had finally found someone who could stop a shot,
but we knew that eventually we'd beat them, we always did.  In the third I
remember that Ivan passed me the puck from Gwin after the faceoff, we
bolted towards the net and I took a damn good slapshot from the blue line,
I was sure that the goalie couldn't stop the puck but the bastard blocked
my shot.  Fortunately the rebound landed right onto Gwin's stick and a
second later the puck was in their net.  Classic!  Gwin, Ivan and I
celebrated our points in our usual fashion by yelling loudly and hugging
each other.  Gwin was so happy that he kissed Ivan and me by banging our
heads together and planting one on our lips.  Just as we pulled our heads
apart I heard Jeff mutter something about dirty fags and he shot the puck
at us.  The puck flew between me and Ivan and hit Gwin, damn, I've never
seen anything like it before.  Gwin's head snapped back as the puck hit him
right in the jaw and the blood went flying, Gwin fell straight back and
landed hard on the ice.  I dropped my gloves at the same time as Ivan and
we started to pound Jeffy for attacking our captain.  Jeff wasn't much of a
fighter, he fell like the sack of crap that he was.  Unfortunately for me,
his brother was just as fucked up as Jeff, Mark's skate slashed the left
side of my face open.  It took 24 stiches to close the wound, but I later
found out that I was luckier than Gwin, at least my jaw wasn't wired shut.
I didn't enjoy the ride to the hospital, even though we got to ride in an
ambulance neither of us were hurt badly enough for them to use the siren.
When the doc told me how many stiches I had on my face I thought I'd look
like Frankenstein and yes, tough guy that I am I started to cry when I got
into my mother's car and saw my face in the mirror.  Mother gave me a hug
and kissed my right cheek, assuring me that everything would be better in
the morning and that I was to go straight to bed when we got home.  I was
upset about the stiches on my face, even though I knew that this sort of
war wound would make the girls chase after me much more than they already
did.  I didn't want the girls to chase me, Gwin's kiss had awoken in me a
feeling I've always had but long suppressed.  I knew that uncle Rob down in
South Carolina was gay, and that my father loved his brother dearly, but I
also heard my father telling mother how dissapointed my grandparents were
and about how miserable Rob's life was at school and work when people found
out about his "lifestyle."  I didn't want to disappoint my parents, my
older sister and two younger twin brothers with my own "choice," I could
never tell Ivan and Gwin that I had fallen in love with both of them and
only wanted to love them both the way that my parents loved each other.  I
knew that they were straight, we all went on dates with girls, Ivan and
Gwin always talked about how hot the girls in school were, but when I
kissed my date I couldn't help notice that the only thing I could think of
was how much I'd rather be kissing Gwin and Ivan.  The platonic friendship
we shared was worth far more to me than one night of hot and sleazy sex.

After an uncomfortable night's sleep I was the last out of the family out
of bed and went down to breakfast.  At the bottom of the stairs I paused as
I heard my mother laying down the law to the siblings.

"Virgil was hurt in last night's game.  The goalie of the other team kicked
your brother with his skate and Virgil has more than 20 stiches on his
face.  You are not to stare at him like he's in a circus' sideshow.  He is
still your brother, he is still a very handsome young man who will make
some nice lady a very good husband.  You are not to tease him, you will not
stare at the boy.  He's going to be very sensitive about such an injury and
you will support him during his recovery from this.  You will not
dissapoint me on this issue.  Do I make myself clear?"

Of course Matt turned to his twin Luke and told him to go get their camera.
I heard my older sister Isabelle cuff Matt on the back of the head and
start to tell them off.  Their bickering stopped as I walked into the
kitchen and they were all speechless as they stared at the new feature of
my face.  My father told me last night that when the stiches came out I'd
have an awesome dueling scar.  My sister screamed, and started to cry for
me, the twins asked me what the other guy looked like.  Mother cleared her
throat and at once my siblings turned their heads and stared at their
breakfast instead of me.

"Are you going to keep on playing hockey, or haven't you had enough of that
sport yet?" asked Isabelle.

With more confedence than I thought I could muster I replied "Of course I'm
going to keep on playing hockey, this is a little scratch.  Nothing major."

My father looked a bit grim and stopped the breakfast discussion by saying
that he'd be talking to me later about that.  As mother gave me my
breakfast she told me to take two vitamin E's to speed my recovery.

################# Ivan's point of view

I spent the rest of the game in the locker room, damn refs gave me a game
misconduct and banned me from playing the last two games before the new
year.  I didn't notice that Virgil and I dropped our gloves and tried to
attack that Jeff idiot until we were both on top of the guy.  When Mark
kicked Virgil I was grabbed by one of the linesmen and dragged over to the
bench.  I saw the referee and the other linesman separate Mark from Virgil
and he was sent to the Wolverine's dressing room, hey we even got an escort
to the dressing rooms from the security guards to prevent us from killing
one another.  I knew that Virgil and Gwin were going to the hospital so I
packed their civies into their hockey bags, and waited for the game to end.

When the game was over the rest of our team came into the dressing room in
very high spirits, Gwin was the only one to score but our teammates still
wanted to get revenge for the dirty way the Wolverines played.  We of
course did no wrong, our game was clean.  All of the penalties that we took
were in retaliation for what the other players did, right?  Well, our coach
thought differently.  He entered our dressing room in a foul mood, and took
no time in letting us know what he thought of us.

"Ivan!" The coach barked at me "You're off my team, I don't ever want to
see someone like you on my team again!  You and Virgil ganged up on another
player!  The both of you can join the Wolverines for all I care, get your
stuff and get out of my lockerroom!  NOW!"

As I left the lockerroom the coach continued to rant at the other players.

"I don't ever want to see you boys playing like this again!  You're a
disgrace to the game the team!  I don't give a damn if Don Cherry does laud
violence in the NHL! You are not professional hockey players!  The
penalties you idiots took nearly cost us this game, the only redeaming
feature of this event is that they played worse than you did!

As the door closed I wasn't able to hear much more of what the coach was
saying, what he said to me continued to echo in my head as I walked to my
car.  Off the team, goddamnit!  Had the coach somehow figured out that I
was gay?  What else would he have meant by that crack about someone like me
on his team?  How did he know?  What would happen when my parents found out
about this?  How was I going to tell Gwin and Virgil that I was off the
team and in love with them.

#####################

Ok, that's enough for now.  I'm still not sure where this fantasy will go,
hmmm maybe the boys are going camping after Christmas....  Yah, winter
camping at Rock Lake was one of my fondest memories of youth, unfortunately
when I went I went with a bunch of straight guys and the only fun we had
was shooting rabbits.