Page 4 of Home of the Brave

A summer hockey tournament. A brand new, never before done event. Women and men competing. This was the dream of any sports journalist.

I had to be there. I had to be a part of history.

Summer was my slowest time of year. I didn’t cover the MLB or MLS; then again, I didn’t cover college basketball, yet here I was. I typically waited around for any hints of trades or league changes while scoping out the next season.

Chris wouldn’t be so cruel as to exclude me.

Unless he sent Bernie. He was the other hockey correspondent, but for men. He was getting older and didn’t like to travel as much as he used to.

He wouldn’t want to spend weeks, or longer, at an undisclosed location in the middle of the hottest time of year. Heat made his gout flare. He’d told me too many times for me to forget that fun bit of information.

No. I was the clear choice.

The squeak of shoes on the court was driving me to my breaking point. I closed my eyes and tried to go to my happy place, but it was unrelenting.

One more day.

This was the final game. I just had to make it a few more hours and grab any interviews I might be able to snag tomorrow as the teams leave, then I was done.

And never watching a basketball game again.

Chris responded to my previous article with a single thumb’s up emoji and had been silent since.

Nearly two full weeks of non-stop coverage from me in my living nightmare, and he hadn’t mentioned the hockey tournament one time.

I wasn’t sure if he’d forgotten, or wanted to make sure I finished this assignment before mentally checking out.

The final buzzer sounded, and the packed arena erupted. I jotted down the final score and left the press booth. I was one of four to use it today. Everyone else wanted to be courtside so they could grab sound bites, but that wasn’t required for my articles. Instead, I kept my distance and hurried to a quiet office I’d discovered on the first week.

I’d done a pre-write this morning so I could quickly fill in the details of the game and have it submitted to Chris within minutes of the ending making us the first, or one of the first, major outlets to have it posted.

I didn’t bother waiting for his confirmation. He’d skim it to check for any errors and have it up on the site as quickly as possible.

I refreshed the screen four times until finally it appeared on Sports Now’s homepage.

Done.

My body went slack as I dropped my head back and let out a breath I’d been holding for over a month.

Then my phone rang. I felt for it on the table and answered, smiling when I saw his name. “You survived.”

“Barely,” I shot back.

“Thank you. I know this was absolute torture, but you did a great job.” Chris wasn’t generally one to compliment, so I appreciated it. “Which is why you are going to DC.”

“DC?” I straightened. “What’s there?”

“The Stars and Stripes Hockey Tournament.”

I did a little shoulder dance as a smile took over my lips. “Really?”

“Yes, I still don’t have all the details, but we have the location and rough outline. There won’t be much of a break between the end of the season and this. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, of course.” The more hockey in my life, the better.

“I figured.” I could hear him typing. “I’ll forward what I have so far, but we can discuss more when you’re back in the office.”

“Great, I’ll see you soon.”