Page 34 of Pinch

No matter how many times I do this, I always have a mini-panic attack before addressing a large group of strangers. I’ve learned to lift my chin, straighten my shoulders, and put on a confident smile as I step out in my stilettos. Still, when I get to the center of the rink, my stomach dips when I turn to see twenty giants in full hockey gear standing in a line facing me.

I blink a few times, doing my best to project confidence, until Mav lets out a taxi whistle and starts clapping. “All right, Haddy!”

He’s quickly joined by Gav, who claps and also shouts a “Yeah!”

The other guys start clapping, and the kids all beat their sticks on the wooden boards. It breaks the tension at once, and I exhale a laugh.

“Thank you for that.” I look around at the little kids on the benches. “Is it okay if they come out and join us, too?”

“Sure.” The coach motions to the little attendees. “Come on out!”

They all hop up and quickly take their places in front of the big guys facing me. I notice the little girl with pigtails skates right up to Gav, taking his hand. She looks up at him, and he gives her a warm smile as he holds her little hand in his big one.

It helps me relax, and I take a beat, doing my best to make eye contact with each of them. “Now I don’t have to yell.”

Polite laughter fills the gap.

“You’re probably wondering who I am.” All the little heads nod rapidly. “I’m Hayden Bradford, this year’s International Princess Woman, and Maverick Murphy’s first cousin.”

At that the children gasp, turning big eyes from me to Mav and back again.

“I’m also a scientist. Do any of you know what that means?” I get a mixture of nods and shrugs.

One girl raises her hand. “It means you work in a lab and do experiments!”

“Yep, that’s part of what I do. I also do a lot of math, and I build models on computers.”

“My dad said girls aren’t good at math.” It’s the little boy with the snake-dad.

“It’s a common misconception,” I reply. “Have any of you heard of the STEM program?”

Several hands shoot up, and the little girl holding Gav’s hand waves hers wildly.

I point at her, and she yells, “It’s science camp! I go every summer!”

“That’s great! Do any of you have STEM programs at your school?” About half the group nods, so I press on. “Then you know that just like hockey, being a scientist involves a lot of hard work and sometimes even failure.”

I continue talking to them about what to do when an experiment fails or we lose a game (dust yourself off, see what you learned, and try again), and we talk about the value of hard work and team work and not being afraid to take chances or ask hard questions.

After a few more minutes, I wrap it up. They’re tired, and I don’t want to make them stand too long at their age. Also, their pick-ups are arriving to take them home.

“With that in mind, remember always to do your best, stay curious, and look for ways to help others shine.”

Everyone claps, and I quickly thank the coaches and the players for having me.

Little Pigtails releases Gav’s hand and skates up to me. “I think I’ll be a princess now, too!”

“You can do it!” I give her little shoulder a squeeze, and she holds her arms up for a hug.

I lean down, and she hugs me so hard, it makes me laugh. Then she skates to her waiting mom, who gives me an apologetic wave. I wave back, smiling. It’s totally fine.

Gav glides up to me expertly on those skates. I still can’t get over how fast he can move on those things.

That cocky grin splits his cheeks. “You’re a natural.”

“I could say the same for you. I think that little girlwould’ve come home with us if she knew we all lived together.”

“This is my favorite outreach we do.” He’s serious, watching them all meet up with their adults. “They’re so earnest.”