My skates chittered on the ice, shaving ice curls as I pushed left to get my glove down into the bottom corner.

Thwack!

I tossed the puck down, and Chad grabbed it, skating around back of the net before heading down ice. Chad was tossing the puck around in front of him, back and forth, playing with it.

He made puck handling look so easy, like a pro. Of course, he thought he almost was too, just because he’d played in a minor league when we were just out of high school.

Still, some of the juniors were having trouble following it. Chad passed it off to Phil, who picked it up, faked out a defenseman and passed it back to Chad.

It seemed like slow motion, and I almost pitied the young goalie on the other end of the ice. Chad’s stick came way up, and as it slammed down he nearly stopped, sending the puck sideways instead of the hard slapshot expected. Good teamwork.

Phil picked it up and flicked into the top right corner that was hard to cover with a pad.

Old guys 2, young punks 1.