Olympic Fire [Miracle on Ice]

CHAPTER 13: It's a Minnesotan Thing

~BAH'S POV~

After practice, Pav and I join the guys from the U as they take us on a small tour around campus on which they, surprise, surprise, point out their favorite spots to hang out and why is that so.

"Mostly cheap beer and chicks," Phil Verchota, the guy I remember from the first day of the tryouts because of the NCAA t-shirt, laughs and smacks Christoff's shoulder. Steve blushes a bit and turns to McClanahan in attempt to change the topic of the conversation.

"Hey, Robby, how's your nose?"

Rob McClanahan,  5'10 tall forward with brown hair and a missing tooth, shrugs his shoulders: "Better. It's not the first time someone punched me in the face..."
"Bet it's not the last time either," Bill Baker, a blonde defender, chuckles and playfully punches his old teammate's shoulder: "Hey, you play hockey. Don't expect other players to be avoiding your face, just because of your rich pretty boy features."
Rob huffs and ruffles his hair: "Still have your sense of humor, I see. Well, this pretty boy can easily beat you at one on one game."

"Whenever you are ready," Bill challenges his friend. They glare at each other for a while before both crack into a grins.

"Don't mind them, they like to show off their muscles...they would if they had any to be honest," Verchota explains to Pav and me. We exchange a look and burst into small laugh, while Bill and Mac turn their glares to Verchota, who is nothing but a grinning face now.

"What did you say?" Mac pretends to be hurt and rolls up a sleeve of his T-shirt for a bit. He looks at Phil: "Who doesn't have muscles?"

"A bit more of spinach won't hurt ya, Popeye."

"I'm strong to the finish, 'cause I eats me Spinach, I'm Popeye the sailor man!" Rob sings Popeye's opening song, causing us all to chuckle. Steve pats his friend's shoulder: "We get it, you wanted to be a sailor, but you are a hockey player. Bah, Pav, not all of us are like that. Believe it or not, this guy here is 21. But on the other hand, Verchota is 22, well, will be 23 in December."
"His point is, the older we get, the bigger morons we are. Or act like we are," Baker adds and shrugs shoulders when he sees Verchota's glare.

"Hey, it's true. So what about you two?"
I look at Pav and we both shrug shoulders. Since Pav doesn't talk a lot, I am the one to answer: "Normal things guys our age do. Ya know, playing sports, spending time out with friends...well, Pav spends all of his free time on the ice. But ya know, nothing special."

Pav next to me smiles slightly as I mention him spending all of his free time on the ice, but says nothing. That's just him being himself, quiet and small, but hellishly speedy player. Even though we have been teammates for a long time, I don't remember when was the last time I heard him say anything. For him, we could easily say his talent speaks for him.

After a while we sit down in one of the bars Verchota suggested. As soon as we order our drinks, Christoff turns to me: "So, what do you think of Herb?"

I take a sip and answer carefully: "Like a guy who knows what he's doing, but slightly insane. I mean, his sprints...I have never skated that much."
"You should get used to it. It will become easier."
"Maybe for you, you guys are his players."
This time Baker answers before Christoff: "Not with Herbie. He might has been our coach for three or four years, but don't expect him to make any differences. You remember what he said after he called the 27 names on a roster?"
" 'I will be your coach, I won't be your friend.'" Pav responds quietly and takes a sip of his drink.

"Exca- Wait, did you really talk?" Rob seems honestly surprised, just like the rest of the guys from the U. What they don't know is, Pav has never really been a chatterbox and from an accident not many people know about, his need to talk has decreased.