A/N: This is my first 'Miracle' fict. I've been thinking about writing one for a while...I was like I love hockey and I love this movie, so why not write a fict? So I did...just don't expect this to be reguarly updated; there's A LOT of information I have to sort through. I want this to be as accurate as possible.
(Side note: Warren Strelow was the goalie coach for the 1980 USA Hockey team, but he wasn't in the movie, and when thinking about this fict, I was thinking more along the lines of the movie...I just wanted to make that clear, so I don't get anyone telling me otherwise. K? Thanks.)
It was a relatively cool day for mid-July in Colorado Springs, Colorado.
Terri Jacobs pulled up into the arena's parking lot and parked her rental car. (Yes, 'her'.) Stepping out of the car, she could feel her heart beat even faster and she could feel her hands start to clam up. She walked towards the arena, ignoring the glances she knew were directed at her.
Terri opened the main doors and entered the arena, trying not to attract too much attention to herself; she was very shy around new people...especially guys.
It was getting towards the end of the check-in time for the players, so there weren't many of them wandering around the lobby of the ice arena.
She glanced around the lobby, looking for someone who could point her in the right direction. Seeing an older man holding a camera, after just having taken a player's profile picture, she approached him slowly...even if he looked like he should be coaching baseball instead of being involved in hockey.
'Excuse me.' She said tentatively.
'Yeah, can I help you?' The man raised an eyebrow at her.
'I'm looking for Coach Brooks. Could you tell me where he is?' She asked, looking around her.
'Try looking in the stands around the rink.' He replied, pointing down a hallway.
'Thanks.' Terri mumbled, then walked swiftly down the hall that the man had pointed out.
She walked down the short hallway, which opened up to the corner of the stands of the arena. Terri glanced around, taking in her surroundings before walking down the closest set of stairs to ice level. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a few of the potential Olympians started out on the ice. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched as they warmed up and stretched.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man approach her.
'Excuse me, miss. Are you lost?' He asked her.
Terri turned her head to look at the man. He was tall and lanky, wearing a dark blue suit with a royal blue tie. He also wore glasses and was balding.
'I might be.' She grinned slightly, turning her head towards him. 'I'm looking for Coach Brooks. Is he around?' She asked, looking back out to the ice.
'He's up in the press box.' The man pointed to the far end of the arena and up to where the box was.
'Thanks.' Terri mumbled again, then looked back to the man. 'Uh, how do I get up there?' She asked shyly, blushing a little, but that was hard to tell since her cheeks were naturally very pink.
After receiving general directions from the man, she left the stands and headed up to the press box, where she had seen Herb Brooks looking down at the sheet of ice.
On the way to the box, Terri had to cross the hallway that led down to the locker rooms. She looked down the hallway one way so she wouldn't get trampled by a rushing player, but didn't look the other way before stepping out. After one step, she collided with a hockey bag, slung over the shoulder of a last-minute player.
'Sorry.' She mumbled, after letting out an oof, and taking the same step back.
'That's okay. You all right?' the short player asked.
'Yeah, I'm used to it. You better hurry. There are guys already on the ice.' She said, looking down the hall, avoiding looking at the guy.
'That's no problem.' He said with a small grin. 'I'm Buzz Schneider, by the way. Or Buzzy.' He said, shifting his hockey bag on his shoulder and moving his stick from his right hand to his left, and holding out his hand.
Terri looked at the guy who was almost the same height has herself, saw his smile, then went to shake his hand, subtly wiping her hand on her pants (to try to rid the clamminess) before bringing said hand up to shake his.
'Hi, Buzzy. I'm Terri.' She said, grinning at him, shaking his hand. 'I've...got to get...going.' She stumbled. 'Good luck.'
'Thanks.' He replied, and continued on down to the locker rooms.
Terri looked both ways down the hall again, made her way across, and continued her own path up to the press box.
Upon reaching the stairs up to the box, she glanced up, and took a very deep breath, closing her eyes as she did so. She could feel her hands clam up again, her body start to shake slightly from nerves, and her heart beat quicker in anticipation.
Opening her eyes, she slowly ascended the stairs up to the press box. The door was open and she saw Herb Brooks sitting in one of the chairs, already taking notes. She wasn't sure how to get his attention, so she knocked on the doorframe lightly.
Herb turned in his seat and looked over his glasses towards the door. A young woman was standing there, looking hesitant.
'Can I help you?' He asked her; curious as to why she was here.
'Coach Brooks? I'm Terri Jacobs.' She answered with a shy smile. 'I'm your goalie coach.'
'Terri Jacobs?' He questioned, obviously in surprise.
Terri nodded and walked into the room as Herb stood from his chair.
'I'm sorry.' Herb said, shaking his head slightly. 'I was just expecting...'
'A man? Yeah, I get that a lot.' Terri finished for him, grinning.
Herb held out his hand, and Terri shook it confidently...she was feeling more confident the longer she was around the arena.
'Well, uh, have a seat until all the boys come out.' Herb said, indicating the chair next to the one he sat back down in.
Again, Terri nodded, and took the seat indicated. She put her elbows on the table and stared down at the ice.
'So, how'd you get into coaching goalies? You seem a bit young.' Herb asked, breaking the silence.
Terri grinned. 'My brothers were goalies. My dad was a goalie back in his youth, too, so I guess it runs in the family.' She laughed. 'My dad coached my brothers up through high school, then they went off to college. Since I couldn't play once I got to high school, I quit playing and followed my dad's footsteps, becoming a coach.' She paused for a moment, seeing a goalie skate out onto the ice. 'I may be young, but I know what I'm doing.' She looked back over at Herb, straight-faced.
'I know that much. I wouldn't have hired you if you didn't.' He said with a half-grin.
Terri nodded, understanding.
'Mind if I go down to ice level to check out these goalies? See what I have to work with?' She smirked.
'Absolutely. Come back about ten minutes before they leave the ice. Let me know what you think.' Herb instructed.
'No problem, Coach.' She responded.
'I'm not your coach, Terri. You can call me Herb.' He replied as Terri stood from her chair.
'Right. Sorry.' Her cheeks turned pinker. 'It's just a seniority thing, I guess.'
Herb nodded, then turned back look down to the ice. Terri took that as her cue to leave.
Walking back down the stairs, she let out another sigh. This one was of relief. Herb definitely didn't live up to the stories Terri had heard about him.
Terri retraced her steps back down to ice level, being careful not to run into anyone, again. When she reached the ice, she grinned to herself, then walked around in the stands to sit behind one of the nets. There were four goalies: two at each end.
After the boys had warmed-up and stretched, they gathered at center ice around the guy who was running the try-outs. He explained the drills they were going to do at each end of the ice. At the end of the ice Terri was at, there was a simple shooting drill where the players would line up in a semi-circle and shoot rapid fire at the goalie. At the other end, they were doing some pass and shoot drills.
Terri watched the goalies as each of them went through the drill. The second one to go (number twenty-six) was pretty good. He only missed two on his stick side and one on his glove side, but if he made the team, that would be easy to fix. When he slid his mask to the back of his head to take a drink, Terri tilted her head to the side slightly. He looked familiar, but couldn't put a name to the face. Once the two goalies at that end went through the drill again, she headed down to the other end to check on the remaining two.
As she slowly walked around the rink, she was approached by another man. He was wearing a striped gray-blue suit with a light blue shirt. He had blue eyes, bushy eyebrows, was balding, and slightly round in structure.
'I'm sorry, miss. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. No spectators.' He said to her.
Terri looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Obviously, he didn't know who she was.
'I'm not a spectator.' She said, turning towards him. 'I'm the goalie coach.'
'Oh, okay.' He said, skeptically. 'I'm Walter Bush, executive director of the USOC.' He extended his hand to her.
'Terri Jacobs. Yes, I'm a woman and yes, I know what I'm doing.' She said before he asked her any more questions, shaking his hand.
She was feeling even more bold and confident.
'Okay, then. I'll let you get back to...whatever it was you were doing.' Walter said.
'You too.' Terri mumbled, then both turned and walked in opposite directions.
'Great. There's going to be a lot of talk now.' Terri mumbled to herself as she took a seat behind the net.
She sighed as she watched these two goalies deflect and save pucks. The drill they were doing was a breakout drill. The players started in two lines in the corners, then skated up to the blue line, where they received a puck from the opposite corner they came out of. They then skated in on the goalie, attempting to score.
Terri had her knees drawn up so she could rest her elbows on her knees while holding her head in her hands. She kept her trained eyes on the goalies, watching their every move. The first goalie (number fourteen) seemed pretty good as well, even though he seemed a little unsure of himself at times...that could also be taken care of.
A/N: Well, what do you think? Is it a good start? Lemme know what you think, please. I'd appreciate it.