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We set a good rhythm of steady attacks, finding where their holes are as we keep formation, passing to one another to keep the defense moving.
Connor charges the goal first, Cory sliding up behind him to follow the shot. It goes high. The goalie catches it with ease and tosses it away.
Their enforcer comes forward, towards us, but their movements are more hesitant. Nerves maybe. I think these guys are rookies too. Their number four carries the puck down the left side. He passes it to number eleven. Their forward feigns right, goes left, taking a shot. It goes wide of the net.
Michael, our defender, takes control.
The bit of fans in the arena cheer as we charge the goal. Connor is slammed into the wall. The puck soars free into the center, but it is picked up by Cory. He rounds the net. Takes a shot.
Goal!
We crash into him in celebration. I slap the top of his helmet as the other guys surround us.
I take several shots on goal tonight, but don’t make any, most going wide. I tap the ice with my stick as the ref blows the whistle, signaling the end of the match.
It’s not my worst performance. Not my best. I glance over at Coach Matt. He looks pleased though. A win one to nothing is better than a loss.
I can’t say the same for the assistant coach, Tommy. He looks disappointed, his arms crossed against his chest as he turns his back to us as we skate off the ice.
The coaches take their time, giving us feedback in the locker rooms. Doesn’t matter that there is a party waiting for us up above. Each of them makes sure that we absorb every word before letting us go.
The message is clear. This is our season, and there is nothing more important than that. Nothing.
I read Astrid’s text once we’re dismissed.
Astrid
On our way.
I don’t want to keep them waiting so I shower quickly, not bothering to spend the extra time to dry my hair. It is a new thing I’m still getting used to. My dark hair is longer on top than usual, the sides shaved shorter, but I haven’t cut it since I got called up, and I’m superstitious enough to not cut it.
It’s better than most guys’ superstitions. Connor said he wore the same socks for every game last year, without washing them. And that’s not even the worst I’ve heard.
I get off pretty easy if all I have to worry about is styling my hair a little bit in order to not look like a mop. Like I do right now. I run my hands through it quickly, twisting in the mirror to make sure it looks okay.
“Big date?” Cory asks, smirking at me.
“Fuck off. Do you have hair gel?” I ask. I comb at a particularly stubborn piece of hair that wants to stand up straight.
“Nah, when there’s no reporters, I don’t bring a lot. My future wife isn’t upstairs at this party.”
I snort. I’m not sure Cory’s future wife exists, but I keep that opinion to myself.
“What about you?” He pushes my arm when I don’t look at him right away.
I turn away from the mirror to face him. I’m tall, even by NHL standards. So when I look at Cory, I make sure to roll back my shoulders to stand at full height. “You know I’m not dating.”
He pulls a water bottle from the bag slung across his body. “Uh huh. I know that.” He points inward towards his chest. “The question is, do you know that.” He claps my shoulder as he walks away.
“Come on, man,” he calls back. “Let’s get food before the other guys go up there and eat everything. You look fine.”
Cory lets the conversation go once we’re in the elevator with Connor and Alex. Thank god. It’s stressful enough being the rookie. I don’t need extra attention.
I spent a lot of my minor league career with my name splashed all over social media sites and tabloid articles. Every night out. Every date. I didn’t mind when I was younger. Sometimes I even sought it out. But it’s the exact kind of attention I’m trying to avoid now.
The elevator doors open up onto the VIP level of the arena. The place is decked out in team memorabilia from seasons past with tables and a banquet style setup. There is no food ready to be served yet, despite my stomach grumbling. I check my watch. I guess we still have about ten minutes.
More people start to arrive, some from the players elevator, the rest I assume are the family members.
