12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

16 12 SPORTS ACES 0 OHO e2 Bas s20 ++ Or Oo1 Gre HosD12 Greer Ger G+ OrrOes Gar Ose Ore Orr Gee Orr Ore Orr Ors Derr Ort Os 1B ++ Orr Oer Gr 1Or Orr Der Ho Bre Dre Ore Gross Orrin Ger Serer inher Sere Ge Pee Sre Pra hes & —she paused—“or you might be needing | a pass to get into the games.” “Thanks,” Sweeney said. “You’re quite an inspiration.” Sweeney rejoined his teammates. A few minutes later the Bears and Raiders lined up for the face-off. The teams broke in a fierce scramble for the puck like horses breaking from the barrier. The Bears were a big, bruising team and hit ‘plenty hard. They needed this game to prevent the second place Hawks from stealing a march on them. The going was rough and hard. Swee- ney dove into the smear of green and purple-shirted icers. Quickly he was bouneed to the ice. He winced under the - sharp, stabbing pain that exploded from his ribs. The ribs were fractured all right. An- gel had seen fo that during the practice scrimmage. A doctor had confirmed the fact. So Sweeney was in the game, his side swaddled with bandages. Sweeney knew that he couldn’t get involved in too many of those jam-sessions or his stay in the game would be a brief and unhappy one. On all fours, Sweeney slapped the rub- ber to Nails Hearne. The centerman lost it and the Bears came on, swiftly organiz- ing and throwing three men into the as- sault. Happy Holliday walloped the green- shirt, hoisting him and tearing him loose from the rubber. Lorne Monnet grabbed the biscuit, passed to Sweeney. WEENEY took it down and it was a regular dog-fight getting the disc into enemy territory. The Bears checked him hard along the boards, and Nails Hearne skated in and the pair of them blasted loose, still in possession of the rubber, Then Angel Toland, the super-star of the show, taking his cue like an- actor, called for the puck and got it. He tried to crash in on the Bear net-minder. The shot was blocked. Angel picked up the rebound. Sweeney swept in, looked for a pass and skated across the face of the cage empty- handed. Angel fired away himself, missed. That was the pattern. Pechnically, ev- erybody worked but Angel. He confined his play to shooting and the more sensa- tional solo stuff. Angel was an old hand and he knew how to draw the “holler” out of the crowd’s lungs. Besides, wasn’t he the jinxman? Sweeney found himself practically ignored inside the blue line. Angel’s thrusts at the enemy wicket got the cheers but no red-light payoff. The Bear front line formed, steamed down the powdered blue surface. Sticks flew and steel flashed ominously. Hemmed in by a horde of green shirts, Happy Holliday tried to dig the puck out. Sweeney tore in to help, but got slammed against the boards. He was up and ready, but the splintering agony in his side left him gasping for breath. In the Raider nets, Ping-Rucker went to his knees time and again, staving off a flurry of scorching dark bullets that the Bears hammered at him. There was a melee twenty feet out from the Raider cage, : : Sweeney stood in his tracks, immobile and almost paralyzed with pain. Already the jinx legend that was associated with Angel Toland’s wing-mate was fastening its ugly claws into Sweeney. A Bear wing- er flew past him, blazing the puck into the red-light zone and Sweeney was help- less to stop him. The blast connected and the blinking shine of the red light made it official. Happy Holliday looked at Swee- ney, eyed him curiously. “The spectators are all up in the stands, sweetheart,” Happy said sardonically. “Shake the sand outa your boots.” Play followed the same formula during the remainder of the first period. Sweeney . tried to adapt his own game tothe Raider . system that glorified Angel Toland. It .- wasn’t working out. The onrushing Bears swarmed all over the rink, banging home another tally. Angel Toland finally drilled home a score. Nevertheless, it was apparent to Sweeney that Toland’s insistence on be- ing the big “I Am” of the Raiders was sapping the team of its real striking pow- er. Rock sent on a new front line and the respite gave Sweeney a breathing spell to soften the pain in his side and get his bearings. It was a different Wild Bill Sweeney who returned to the ice in the second period, Happy Holliday smashed a EOMMICOOOKS (E@)