SLAPSHOTS

Slapshots #1- The Stars from MarsSlapshots #2- The Dream TeamSlapshots #3- Face Off PhoneySlapshots #4- Cup Crazy


Slapshots #1- The Stars from Mars
Scholastic Canada Ltd.
ISBN 0-439-93870-8 PBK
160 pages
Ages 9 to 11
5 ¼” x 7 5/8”


When top Stars player Alexia Colwin doesn’t make the All-Star Waterloo Slapshot League, school reporter Chip Adelman wonders if it’s another case of "alien"ation for the Marsers. Is it because she’s from Mars or because she’s a girl? But when Coach Bolitsky takes the team on the ultimate field trip — to see an NHL game and root for Trent in the All-Stars final — they get to prove their hockey is out of this world.


Excerpt from Slapshots #2: The Dream Team

Coach Bolitsky had more practical advice — sort of. “When you run into a lot of whosis, don’t lose your whatsit. Just keep shooting the gizmo. Eventually he’ll make a thingamajig.”

“Mistake,” translated Dad.

Josh pulled off his mask and turned to his sister. “How about all that support you’re getting, Lex? What do you think of those flyers now?”

Alexia silenced him with a look that would have stopped a clock.

In the second period, I dictated my headline idea into my tape recorder. It was a one-worder: “Frustration!”

The Stars were dominating the Avalanche — outskating them, outchecking them, and outshooting them. But Lennox Kerr was unbeatable in the net.

“It’s like trying to score on Dominik Hasek!” complained Cal after the All-Star goalie had robbed him with a flailing blocker.

“Or a brick wall,” added Alexia.

“Don’t get crazy,” Dad soothed.

But crazy was exactly the word for the way the Stars were playing. Shut out cold by Lennox, they were trying too hard to make something happen. And it was starting to get them in trouble.

Speedy Brian went on an end-to-end rush that was so fast he couldn’t stop himself. He dug his blades into the ice, but the rest of him kept on going. He tumbled head over heels to land in a heap in the corner. Cal launched himself after a rebound, tripped, and smashed his helmet into the goalpost. Jared was wired, trying to bat down every puck that was more than six inches above the rink. He looked like he was playing handball, not hockey. Kyle was breathing so hard that he fogged up his rearview mirror, so he couldn’t see where he was going anymore. He took some earthquake-force checks from the Avalanche defensemen. One time he reversed straight into the Zamboni gate, flipped over the boards and landed in the pile of wet snow beside the big machine.

Even Trent was taking wild shots. Half of them bounced harmlessly off Lennox’s body. The rest the goalie either gloved or handled with a lightning stick. Nothing got behind him!

Well, almost nothing. In the third period, Jared took a wild leap to bat down a high backhand just inside the face-off circle. His flailing glove hammerfisted the puck over Lennox’s shoulder and into the net. The red goal light flashed on, and the crowd erupted in deafening cheers.

Copyright © 1999 by Gordon Korman. All rights reserved.


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