Game Face

The whole concept of a contemporary ice hockey story for pre-teens written in lyrics is bold and fascinating.

Given that its free verse fairly sings throughout – always enhancing rather than distracting from a storyline that moves as fast as a puck on smooth ice – makes it a winner.

Thirteen-year-old Jonah, in whose voice the story is told, dreams of being a professional ice hockey player. Like any rising-star hopeful, he thrills to the excitement of each game, braves the nervous moments, and rides the harrowing ups and downs of wins and losses. Like all young hockey players, he also has a best hockey buddy (Ty) and a school friend who seems to know how to pick him up when he’s down, and put life into perspective now and again (Rose).

You want to tell me
about it? she says
as casual as if
she’s asking the score
of a random hockey game.

No!

Okay. But it seems like
it takes up a lot of room
in your head.

She shrugs one shoulder
up
down
in a very Rose gesture.

Jonah also has a coach he respects and a grandmother (Oma) who’s one of his best supports. All of which is great. But there are also things eating at him, including the recent loss of his mother. Curiously, the book only barely touches on grief, but it does so beautifully here:

Every now and then
missing her
catches me off guard
sadness rushing through me
triggered by the weirdest things.
It hurts worse than anything

but if it ever stops happening
I’ll miss it.

Two items weigh much more heavily on him than losing his mom, however: how to handle a father who suffers from severe anxiety spells and (above all) a growing fear he may have inherited his father’s trait, in which case he must hide or conquer it at all costs. Barfing before games, worrying about things highly unlikely to happen, blowing it when he’s in goal: None endear him to teammates or coach.

His father:

I’m sure there are things you worry about, he says.
but your worries -
they’re not
out of control
are they?

His face is a familiar tangle
of love and fear and his voice
practically pleads for everything
to be okay.

I tell him exactly
what he needs to hear.

I’m fine.

Of course, dousing his out-sized fears on his own is too great a challenge, and Jonah begins to falter both on and off ice. Worse, when Ty suffers a medical crisis, Jonah feels his anxiety ramp up, and he blames himself. His world becomes a “what if” of bad things that might happen, and it takes all the courage he has to finally seek help.

I struggle with my gear
stumble
stepping onto the ice
let in the weakest shots
and fall on my butt
twice.

Guilt rises up
e x p a n d s
wraps
around
to smother me.

The story would be compelling (especially for hockey enthusiasts) even if it weren’t in verse. But the verse offers a bonus in “playing” with words and thereby helping to emphasize them, like the word “e x p a n d” above. In another place, the word BIGGER is printed in larger type than the rest of the text.

Beyond hockey, family and friendship, however, the story does an excellent job of shedding light on anxiety issues, an invaluable service to young readers.

Doing the hard thing
does take strength
but asking for help
when we can’t do things
when it all seems
impossible
that takes strength, too.

In other words, Game Face is a compelling hockey story that offers insight into anxiety, while simultaneously hooking teens on free verse – a hat trick if ever there was one.

Game Face’s a bold, clever, win-win read: a breakaway, a barn burner.