Page 79 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
The team grumbled but complied. Each time I came across one of the glass shelters with benches, I made the team rotate through a series of handstands, push-ups, and presses-of-the-bench. I discovered that humans had a strange habit of bolting the benches to the concrete and securing them with chains, which made our strength endeavors all the more challenging. At each stop, humans watched, clapped, and encouraged us as we broke the benches from their chains and bolts, then pressed them upward, sometimes with humans still sitting on them.
I had never been to this city—or even this state before—but I figured that if I could navigate the dangerous, ever-changing fae forests back home, then a human city should be no problem. I was wrong. My planned three-mile run became an unplanned fifteen-mile run. Some of the team ended up puking their meager breakfasts into the streets,but that was their own fault for having allowed themselves to become so weak and feeble.
When we finally arrived back at the hotel, I was a little concerned. Yes, the team needed to be whipped into shape and to take our mission seriously if we were ever to become more than a group of fools for human amusement. And if we were ever to become a team I could be reasonably proud of.
We didn’t have to win. We just needed to not be fools. And I needed to know that I’d guided the team in the same way that I’d guided our scouts and troops back home as a Clan Guardian. But I might have pushed these orcs too far this morning. I’d been running and lifting heavy objects since I’d arrived here among the humans, but I knew many of our team had not. They’d eaten and drunk and become lazy, confident that their size and initial strength were so superior to the humans that they didn’t need to remain fit. I hoped this morning had shown them the error of their ways, because I would drag every one of them from their beds each morning and force them to exercise as long as it meant I did not need to be ashamed of Jordan watching our game.
That afternoon, we rode Bus to the arena for practice and I noticed groups of humans lining the sides of the walkway. I vaguely recognized some of them, realizing that many were either from the hotel or had been among the groups of humans who’d witnessed our early-morning exercises. They nodded, a few of them shouting encouragement. Given that we were intruders in their town, opposing their hockey team, I was surprised.
But there was no time to think about the humans. Once inside, I bullied everyone into their knife-blade shoes and forced them onto the ice. We skated around the edges, everyone following me and trying to keep up as I increasedspeed and began a series of circles and turns. The ice was littered with fallen orcs, but I shouted for them to get up and keep moving, just as I would my troops back home. Knowing I was depleting their energy, I considered cutting this practice short. But I didn’t. Instead, I made them all shoot pucks toward each other, stopping the black turd-like object with their sticks before shifting it to their other side and shooting it back. At first, everyone was chasing pucks across the arena, and we’d lost several into the stands. Eventually the orcs learned some basic amount of control and were able to pass the puck back and forth, stopping it and controlling it with a minimal, basic skill.
It wouldn’t be enough for us to win, but hopefully we would not appear as buffoons. And with some luck and determination, we might end this game with a point on our side of the scoreboard.
Chapter 35
Ozar
Iknew that human sports teams were often named after ferocious animals or a job that reflected an employment option in the area. Our name, the Tusks, was obviously because of our tusks, given that we were all orcs. Some of these other team names perplexed me, though.
The team we were to play next was called the Blue Jackets. I knew there were horrible insects in the human world called yellow jackets, and I’d encountered those nasty beasts once while jogging in the park. After several hours of pain and then a day of intense itching, I’d realized that size did not necessarily equate with the level of suffering an animal could deliver in this world.
ButBlueJackets? I had no idea what the fuck Blue Jackets were supposed to be.
I was going to assume they were yellow jackets, but worse. So, I made my locker-room speech especially energizing.
“We will not be bested by a bunch of humans using aninsect as their totem animal,” I shouted. “We are orcs, and orcs do not lose.”
“Thisgroup of orcs loses,” Eng sneered. “We lose over and over again.”
“There’s losing after a valiant fight, and there’s losing twelve to zero because all you’ll do is lean against the wall and watch the enemy score goals.” I was arguing back, but I could tell a lot of the team felt the same as Eng.
“Ididn’t lean against the wall, and it hasn’t made any difference at all,” one orc shouted from the end of a row of benches. His comment spurred on a chorus of “me too.”
Ugwyll stood and slammed his fist against a locker, denting the metal and silencing everyone. “One orc alone is a powerful force, but against a highly trained enemy? Such a disadvantage is hard to overcome. The more of us who fight, acting as a team, the more likely we are to win.”
Eng snorted and Ugwyll pointed at him with a growl.
“If you lean against the wall tonight, I will pick you up and throw you over it into the crowd of humans.”
Eng took a step forward. “I’d like to see you try.”
I jumped between them, arms outstretched. “Save it for the ice. I want us all to put the fear of the mountain gods into our enemy. Charge them. Slam into them. Hit them with our sticks?—”
“That’s against the rules,” Bwat protested.
“I don’t care. If half the team ends up in the box, then so be it. I want them so scared of us that they abandon the puck and run away when they see us coming for them.”
Ugwyll lifted his chin. “A good plan, Ozar. And if one of us gets the turd-puck, the others should skate along with him and guard him from the enemy. Protect the turd-puck holder until he can violate the enemy’s net.”
“Who is with us?” I raised my fist in the air,but the only response was some half-hearted grumbles. “Who. Is. With. Us?” I shouted and glared at each orc until they all assented—well, all of them except Eng.
I taunted the enemy as usual during the puck-drop, adding several criticisms about the human’s inability to perform in the furs and questioning his parentage. When the puck hit the ice, I surged forward with a growl. The enemy got the puck, but I managed to wedge my stick between his skates by accident, and he stumbled, cursing at me. Before he could throw his gloves off and fight, Ugwyll snaked his stick in and stole the puck from him.
The crowd roared. I’d expected that they would be supporting their home team but was surprised that many seemed to be shouting approval at us. One group even had a banner that said “Go Ozar” on it.
That feeling that I’d had back in Baltimore returned. I remembered the children wanting to talk to me, the Starbucks employee and random strangers on the street who’d greeted me by name and expressed confidence that we’d win next time. They hadn’t thought we were jokes, and although we had yet to win a game, humans were still supporting us.
Jordan still supported us, supported me.
