I have a confession to make. I'm Canadian and I don't like hockey. I don't really like any other sports for that matter. I would rather write, paint, or do something artistic. I get teased a lot at school by the other boys because I don't play sports. To make matters worse, my Dad and brother are always bugging me about not watching hockey on Saturdays with them. I can handle the taunting at school but it's hurtful when it comes from your own family. Enough was enough and so one night I decided to run away from home. I ended up at the local cemetery and after a few creepy, chilly moments I decided to head back home.

When I arrived at the cemetery gates, they had been locked. I was desperate to get out there so I decided to try to climb over top. I'm not the most athletic guy and I struggled to keep my balance. Somehow I managed to get to the top of the gates when I noticed that I had dropped my cellphone. I had to drop back down to the ground and try to find my phone. It was dark and scary in the cemetery and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Aside from the stirring of a few nocturnal animals, it was actually really quiet, almost peaceful. I finally found my phone in some bushes. I reached my hand inside only to feel something cold and clammy grabbing mine.

"Let go!" I shouted at whatever it was that groaned at me. I was finally able to free my hand from its clutches and I made a mad dash for the cemetery gates. My heart was racing as I awkwardly tried to climb the cold steel gates. Unable to find my balance I fell to the cold, hard dirt below. Soon more of those things began to writhe among the gravestones. I felt like I was in the middle of a horror movie. I needed to find a place to hide but is there anywhere safe in a cemetery at night? I noticed that the lights were on at the Groundskeeper's garage. Hopefully somebody would be there to let me in.

"Awesome idea having us watch the game here Oliver!" "Thanks Alvin. I figured we would be able to watch the hockey game and have a few brewskies without being interrupted by family members." "Gotta admit, it is a little creepy being at a cemetery at night" Peter interjected. "Don't worry dude, there's nothing to fear. Best of all, there won't be anybody to disturb us from enjoying the game." KNOCK! KNOCK! "Um, Oliver, care to explain?" "It's probably just the wind." KNOCK! KNOCK! "Let me in!" "Alright, that was definitely not the wind" an uncomfortable Len exclaimed. "Who's there?" Oliver shouted. "My name is Kayden! Hurry up! They're gonna eat me!"

"What are you doing here kid? It's 8 o'clock at night and you're all alone at the cemetery." "I ran away from home and ended up here. I tried to get out but the gates were locked. Then I lost my iPhone in the bushes and ended up face-to-face with a zombie. Before I knew it the cemetery was full of zombies!" "Take a breath kid. They're not zombies. I call them Grumblers. Every night after I lock the gates, they rise from their graves and lurk around the cemetery. I don't bother them and they don't bother me. As long as you don't make physical contact with them it's all good." "Uh...." "You didn't? Oh no, you did" Oliver groaned.

"The Grumblers were once a semi-pro hockey team who used to practice on a frozen lake during the winter. One morning they all tragically fell through the ice on a mild winter's day. For the last few years they will leave their tombs in search of anyone who wants to play hockey. I'm usually long gone by the time they start walking around. Legend has it that whoever they come into contact with will be cursed by having to play hockey against them until they have been defeated." "Is that really true?" I asked. "It's Canada. It's hockey and so it probably is" Oliver replied. "But I don't like hockey!" I shouted. The entire group of men gasped as one of them nearly fainted.

"GAME ON!"

"How are we gonna face The Grumblers if we don't have any equipment?" I asked feigning disappointment. "Don't worry Kayden, we've got enough sticks for a whole team. We'll put you in net since you're not very good." "Wonderful" I muttered. The men headed out to set the rules for the game with The Grumblers. There would be 3 forwards, 2 defensemen, and 1 goalie per team. The game would be over when one of the teams scored 5 goals. I walked out wearing a bulky pair of goalie pads that had to be at least 30 years old. "Aren't you afraid of getting bit?" I asked. "They're a group of old hockey players. They have no teeth" Oliver chuckled.

HOCKEY NIGHT IN GREENHILL

"Alright fans, welcome to Greenhill Cemetery for tonight's game between The Grumblers and Team Kayden. I'm Napolean Fuzzbutt alongside Boo Pipsqueak." "Well Napolean, I don't know much about Team Kayden but The Grumblers were one of the best teams on the semi-pro hockey scene before their accident. I'm expecting a real humdinger of a game tonight." "Don't forget to tune in for 'Chipmunk's Corner' after the first period. Okay, we're ready for the opening face-off as Oliver and Grumbler Number 3 are ready to take the draw."

The Grumblers jumped out to a quick 3-0 lead scoring on every shot they took. For a team that had been deceased for a couple of decades, they seemed pretty lively tonight. Somehow my team was able to tie the score at 3 thanks to Oliver's quick hands. Apparently he played junior hockey when he was in his teens. "Argh!" one of my teammates shouted as he fell to the ground in pain. "I think I twisted my ankle." "Take a seat Peter. We'll just have to finish this game short-handed" Oliver shouted. One of The Grumblers came speeding toward me with the puck and so I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.