Boarding schools -- Juvenile fiction; Hockey -- Juvenile fiction; Teenage boys -- Juvenile fiction
But memorizing all this didn’t make Toby a wonderful goal-tend. It
doubtless helped him, but it is one thing to know what to do and quite
another thing to do it. Probably a week of practice was worth fully as
much as all his reading. On the other hand, it is possible that his
reading made it easier for him to understand what was wanted of him and
to profit by criticism. Grover Beech, the second team captain, was not
a very good instructor. He played a good game himself at cover point
and knew how the other positions should be played, but he lacked the
ability to impart information. Rather impatient and short-tempered, he
was far more likely to send a player who had performed poorly off the
ice and summon a substitute than attempt to show the offender how to
do better. In consequence, Toby, to a great extent, was thrown on his
own resources when it came to learning the science of the goal-tend’s
position. But he watched the first team goals and tried to fashion his
play on theirs, seldom offended twice in the same way and, when he had
been two weeks a member of the second squad, had defeated Warren in the
struggle for supremacy.
So far he had not dug into his hockey fund except to the extent of the
price of his new stick. He wore an old pair of running trunks loaned
by Homer Wilkins, a sweater of his own, a pair of ordinary thick
gloves of buckskin, and, for want of a toque such as the others wore,
went bare-headed. Arnold’s second-best skates performed all he asked
of them and an ancient pair of leg-guards, inherited by the Hockey
Club from some former player, answered their purpose fairly well. He
meant, however, to have his own guards and a good pair of gloves, and,
now that it seemed certain that he had won the right to play the goal
position on the second for the balance of the season, he only awaited
an opportunity to journey to Greenburg to purchase them. But on most
mornings recitations kept him busy and every afternoon was occupied
with practice, and so it was the Thursday of Yardley’s third contest
that the opportunity at last occurred. But before that other events of
interest had happened.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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