Page 54 of Falling for the Orc All-Star

“Career-ending is a bit precipitous. King’s looking great, and I heard from the team medical staff that his knee is already showing signs of improvement. He’s a tough tank, and the name King isn’t just a nickname!”

“Yes, but I imagine the team is pretty worried about their chances, especially with this tough new Penguins team. Three of their four new players hail from the Frozen Four, DI men’s college hockey, with Western Michigan supplying two players. I think the Penguins have a great chance of winning the Calvert Cup this season, especially since the Lumberjacks’ All-Star player will be benched for months.”

Clark’s voice, normally rich and just the right amount of excited, is now irritated. “King Silverbow is an All-Star whether he’s on the bench or off of it, and that’s what makes the Lumberjacks such a special team, John. This is the first match-up between the Penguins and the Lumberjacks this season, so let’s just wait and see what happens.”

Coach leans over to me. “King? Say a few words to the boys, would you?”

“Huh? Me? I...”

“Not a speech. Just give them a little encouragement. That Penguins commentator talks too much about things he knows nothing about.”

Time ticks by, the buzzer sounds, and our team is back, waiting for final instructions. I pat a dozen backs, accept a dozen friendly jostles and all the good wishes, my mind in full panic mode. Say something encouraging? Not a speech? I don’t know what to say!

“King has a little message for you, fellas. Make it short.”

I look at the faces of my teammates. I barely know some of them, and I spent my time on the road hunting up groupies instead of hanging with them. But their faces are all grim and determined.

Jorge Villareal, one of our right wingers, slaps my back. “An insult against one is an insult against all,” he says, then cracks his neck like he’s busting walnuts.

“Well. Coach wanted me to give you a message, and it’s um... I’m sorry I can’t be there with you. My whole heart wishes I could be. Also—Idon’t like that they made it seem like I’m the only all-star on the team.” My eyes narrow, and I realize I always took pride in that fact—but it’s never really been true. “I just got picked. That idiot thinks there’s only one all-star? No, no, no.” I wag my finger, earning a ripply of laughter. “This whole fucking team is all-star material.”

“Language,” Torrey nudges me.

“This whole team would have been picked for the All-Star game, but then they’d just have to call it another Saturday in Pine Ridge.”

The laughter is louder.

“So, all I can do right now is show up. That means you guys better show off. I’ll be watching.”

The idea hits like lightning. I’ll be recording. And commenting.

Everyone on my team has an All-Star heart; they’re the good guys, the local guys, the guys who love their fans. I’ve been so lucky to be on this team, and I could only think about getting off of it.

The next buzzer sounds, and I’m left with a few players, the coaches, and a knee that suddenly throbs. It’s surprisingly exhausting not being able to bend your leg at all, but I’m about to be very distracted.

Coach looks back at me with a frown when he sees me pull my phone from my pocket. “King! This isn’t the time to—”

I hold up a finger and watch Charlie Madison, one of our centers, steal the puck away with smooth, decisive movements and race through the defense like it’s nothing, quick and low, while Bryce roars and rips through the opposing team to be Charlie’s shield.

“That’s not just poetry in motion. That’s rock’n’roll in motion. Heavy metal orchestra, my friends,” I shout as I record the opening seconds of the game. “Have you ever seen someone so smooth and determined as Charlie Madison? And Bryce Frobisher. Did you know that the Lumberjacks rent him out for renovations? You don’t need a wrecking ball with him around. Any problem, he’ll clear the path. Hey, share this video. Tag the AHL and tell them that CharlieMadison and Bryce Frobisher should be considered for this year’s All-Star Game.”

I end the recording and make sure it posts, and then my phone is right back up. “Have you seen the absolute sweeping machine that is Jorge Villareal, people? You know when I said to be on someone’s team? This man is on my team, and I’m proud to call him my teammate. I also think that if you’re not a Lumberjacks fan, you should be. Why? That guy.”

Coach pats my back before he goes back to his actual job of directing the plays and being our eyes and ears. “In case no one’s told you—and I know that no one has, because this is the first time it’s ever happened, but... You’re as good off the ice as you are on it, King.”

I turn back and see the row of seniors behind me. They’re all cheering and waving the tiny pennants that were in their bags. Ingrid isn’t. Ingrid’s head is bowed. She’s looking at her phone, and I realize when I hear another notification chime that she must have followed my accounts.

I turn slightly and aim my camera up. I pan over King’s Kuties, and I smile, throat tight when I see all the posers waving. “Be On Someone’s Team.” “Team King.”

Did I actually start that? Is it a coincidence?

Don’t care. “It’s wild in here tonight. The Lumberjacks have the best fans in the world. Oh, and I have to say that we have the cutest ones, too.” I let the camera drift on the girls with their cardboard letters and their little tiaras and crowns, the King’s Kuties. My camera stops and settles on Ingrid. “But that’s the most beautiful one of all. You know, being injured sucks, but if you have someone in your life who reminds you to get up and keep fighting but lets you crash when you need to, someone amazing, giving, and completely badass while still being incredibly kind and big-hearted, you can overcome anything. That’s my motivation, ladies and gents, right there in seat A-23. That’s her. That’s the one.”

Ingrid looks up just as I drop my phone back to my lap and hit post. I hear her phone chime again, and she smiles. “You’re busy!” she calls.

“I’m helping however I can!” I shout back.

“I love that about you!”