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It’s Cooper’s story! This is still a work in progress, so excuse the errors I haven’t fixed yet.
Cooper
“I’m going somewhere they’ve never heard of hockey.” Oppy, my teammate on the Toronto Blaze, frowned over the eighteenth hole as he took a long gulp of expensive beer.
Several of the men at the table, more teammates, agreed with the sentiment as they unwound after a round of golf. I raised my glass with them, though I wasn’t going anywhere this summer, aside from one family obligation I’d prefer to ignore.
Umbrellas shaded us from the noon day sun, our view from the terrace that of lush grass, trees, water hazards and foursomes still working their way through the course. Briarwood was one of the most expensive clubs in the country, and it was beautiful. The eight of us had finished our round an hour ago, and after eating, we were enjoying beer and relaxation.
“I’d be there now if we didn’t have this damned charity event tonight.” Oppy continued.
“Who the hell schedules a team event after the season is over?”
Silence fell across the table, because our season ended in the most heartbreaking way possible.
“Shit. Sorry.”
It wasn’t Barne’s fault. It was impossible to avoid hockey. We played hockey professionally, we lived in Toronto, a city that supported hockey above other sports, and we just lost the fucking Stanley Cup in overtime a week ago.
That loss was the reason I’d invited my teammates out to Briarwood. It hit us all hard, so, as captain, I’d been checking in, using my membership here to tempt the guys out where I could see how they were doing after that brutal loss.
I knew the answer to Barne’s question. “Radner, the VP of PR, is the guy who set this up, and he’s retiring. They shouldn’t try it again.”
The guys wanted to go to their respective homes or getaways and lick their wounds. They didn’t want to sit around tables with adequate food making small talk to people who would undoubtedly ask what happened in that last game. No one who was on the ice that night wanted to rehash it.
“They better fucking not. I need a month where I never have to think about hockey, let alone talk about it.”
I wanted to warn Oppy that it was a short summer. Training camp started in September, and our bodies fell out of peak fitness quicker than we could get it back. But the long playoff run was draining, and rest was a weapon too.
“Am I the only one who keeps replaying that last overtime?” JJ asked quietly.
JJ was my partner on defense. We complemented each other perfectly – he stayed back, closer to our goal while I was more often in the offensive zone, making plays. Normally, I didn’t need to look to know where he would be on the ice.
But that last game – JJ was getting a cut dealt with on the bench and Crash took his place. I passed to where JJ would be. Only Crash wasn’t there, because he was a different player. That led to the Minnesota breakaway that led in turn to the game winning goal.
JJ was getting stitched up because he’d fallen onto our goalie, Petrov on a previous play. Petrov’s backup, Mitchell, let in the goal. There was a lot of blame to claim.
“No one isn’t replaying that. We just have to use it to move forward, not doubt ourselves.” It was easier said than done.
“I’m taking a month in Fiji. Then I’ll worry about moving forward.” Oppy looked around for our responses.
“That sounds awesome.” Ducky was our first line right winger, and hands down our most enthusiastic player as well as one of our top scorers.
“You want to come?”
Ducky shook his head. “I have to do something with my Mom, and then I’m focusing on making this body” he waved a hand down his five foot nine torso “a lethal weapon.”
We laughed, as he’d intended. He was the shortest player on the team, but fast, with incredible hockey smarts. He’d had a great playoff run, but he blamed himself for not scoring in regulation, before the overtime loss.
“Laugh all you want, but you’ll see, come training camp. Petey is gonna fear me.”
Ivan Petrov, our starting goalie was a Russian behemoth. He was afraid of no one,
“I’d pay to see that.” JJ gave one of his rare grins.
“You won’t have to pay. Just show up. What are you doing in the offseason?”
“Some family stuff in Victoria. My grandmother isn’t doing well. Then I’m back here to work out – maybe I’ll become a lethal weapon too.”
Ducky held up his hand for a high five. “You know it. Next year…”
Next year was going to be different. Coach had told us to use the pain of the loss to push through to win next season and we were damned well doing that.
The rest of the guys shared their plans: family, vacations, working out. Most would be out of the city and come back in September. Our long playoff run made the offseason short. If we’d won the Cup, it would all have been worth it. Without that…it felt like a waste.
Ducky nudged me with his elbow. “So, Captain, you spending the summer with a special lady?”
I rolled my eyes. Oppy chuckled. “Nah, that would be many special ladies.”
“They’re all special.” More laughter.
Two guys didn’t speak up. Crash, still blaming himself for missing that pass, and Mitchell, the backup goalie who’d let in the winning goal. Those two and JJ were the ones I was most worried about. JJ had been on my radar since he was traded to Toronto, but he was so quiet and self contained it was hard to get him to open up. I knew him as well as anyone on the team did, and on the ice we were in total sync. Not after our skates came off.
“You’ve got your camps, right Mitch?”
Mitchell nodded. I wasn’t sure if his holding back was because of the loss, or because he was new. He’d been called up from our farm team when we lost a goalie after the trade deadline. Now, he didn’t know if he was staying up or playing with the Inferno next season. Part of that depended on whether our regular backup was returning. Also, once the draft at the beginning of July rolled around, the Blaze could trade for a new backup, or move Mitchell elsewhere.
“Yeah. Gonna head back to Montana with Jayna and work out and try to help some kids.”
Mitchell hadn’t been drafted, partly because of the absence of opportunities where he grew up, so he and his new girlfriend Jayna Templin were running some free camps in small towns in Montana. I’d have helped out in person, but being so well known would have shifted the focus off the camps, so my contributions were only financial.
“Crash?”
He shrugged. “I’m hanging out here, family and training.”
I’d make sure to reach out to the guys staying local. We had our own training systems, and places we liked to work out, but doing some sessions together would help maintain those team bonds.
“How formal is this thing tonight?” Ducky asked.
“Formal.” I answered. The kid groaned, but he knew the answer. This was a dress-in-a-suit-or-tux, sit at a table with white linen and an inflated amount of cutlery while talking and dancing with the people who could afford the cost of the event. We were encouraged to bid on the silent auction items, but at least we weren’t part of the auction.
“And we’d better get our asses in gear. Some of you need time to look good.”
Lots of chirping back at that, but I was the best dressed player on the team. My looking good was a given. I’d worked on these guys, and we were finally approaching the best dressed team title that existed only in my head. Some of the suits these guys wore when they’d started – I’d had the privilege of money growing up, so I was sympathetic for the guys who’d never been able to pay for quality tailoring. But once they were with the team, it was time to level up.
Mitch hung back as I signed for the bill. “I wasn’t invited?”
I’d missed that. But it made sense. He, however, was reading more into it than existed, as far as I knew.
“This was arranged before you were called up. Don’t overthink it. You know how the PR department has been shaken up lately.”
His eyes widened. Thanks to how the people at the top of the Blaze organization’s PR department had handled some issues with Mitchell and Jayna, we had new people being put in position. It wasn’t surprising that some things had fallen through the cracks. And the outgoing people might have been happy to ‘forget’ updating the new staff about Mitchell.
“Okay.” He smiled. “Sounds like I’ll have a better evening than you all will anyway.”