Page 120 of The Tryout

Ethan Tremblay 1:48 PM

HUSKIES MOVE ON FROM ZACH PRICE

Sam Montgomery for The Montgomery Report

[Image 1 Description: A man in a gray and navy hockey uniform stands in front of a goal, a look of disappointment on his face.]

[Image 2 Description: The same man sits on a hockey bench, looking angrily at a teammate just out of view of the camera.]

In a move that was not particularly surprising to insiders in the league, winger Zach Price was traded by the Minnesota Huskies late Sunday night. There have been whispers since last year that Price was not thrilled with the presence of Jamie Carter in the locker room, though it has been unclear whether his attitude was driven more by dislike of Carter himself or distaste for the fact that Carter replaced him – likely permanently – on the first line.

Those whispers grew louder this year as Carter and team captain Ethan Tremblay revealed their relationship first to the team and then to the world (please see note below). This apparently further angered Price, who sources report had several lapses of professionalism in the locker room and on the ice.

Those same sources note that Coach Bruce Ramsey, formerly of the Calgary system, has been nothing but supportive of the pair. This trade shows that support is backed up by the front office. Many were surprised when the Huskies drafted Carter, the first openly gay player to enter the NHL draft. Others doubted the team would have the wherewithal to have his back when push came to shove. With this trade, it seems the team has put those worries to rest.

Particularly interesting is the return on the trade. While Price’s talent seems to have leveled off over the past three years, he is still a competent player. Even with whispers of locker room toxicity, I would have expected the Huskies to hold out for at least a few draft picks. Instead, they were supposedly happy to trade him to the Spirit for future considerations. I have to wonder what that says about Price – and what it might mean for AHL winger Finn Murphy, who the Huskies have brought to Minneapolis to fill the gap.

[Note: In the interest of full disclosure, I would like to note that Carter and Tremblay revealed their relationship in an article I wrote based on private interviews with the couple this summer.]

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

FINN

On the phone, Ramsey had mentioned that I might want to go ahead and find a short term rental this time, but I can’t quite bring myself to do that. Part of it is financial – who wants to be paying rent on two places at once, no matter what their paycheck is?

But a big part of it is Avery. I can’t help but think that getting a place in Minneapolis is accepting the fact that he and I live in different cities, that we might always live in different cities. And right now, I just don’t want to deal with that thought.

So instead, I call Jamie from the gate of the airport, checking in on the guest room I’ve come to think of as my own. Sure enough, he’s happy to offer it up, although perhaps not as happy as he is to gloat over Zach Price.

Once again, I unpack my things, noticing for the first time some of Avery’s clothes that snuck into the suitcase. Heavier layers for during my runs, plus some sweaters to mix in with my game day suit. I can’t help but hold the clothes close to my face, inhaling the scent of him.

At the arena for practice the next morning, things seem a little different from my last trip to Minneapolis. I’m no longer stuck in the disused locker in the corner, barely large enough to fit my skates. Instead, I have a locker stall with my name and number across the top, just like everyone else. I unload my gear inside it, but I’m unprepared for the envelope I find in the bottom of the bag.

Opening it, I find a copy of the picture of Nana and I that I have hanging in my locker in Des Moines. I know it’s a copy because that one was printed on copier paper at a library in St. Louis; this one is on glossy photo paper, though I can still see some of the wrinkles from the original.

On the back of the photo, I see a note, scrawled in handwriting I recognize mostly from grocery lists and takeout receipts.

Finn,

You’ve got great things ahead of you and I know she’d want to be there.

Avery

Water pools in my eyes, though I can’t tell if it’s because of the thought of my grandma seeing my success or Avery missing it. Probably both.

I grab a roll of stick tape and, tearing off a few small pieces, stick the photo up in the back of my stall.

Practice is…well, a little surprising. When I’d heard that Price had been traded, I had assumed I’d be coming back onto the third line with Matty and one of those guys – Zimmerman or Lopez – would move up to the second line.

That doesn’t seem to be the plan, though. Instead, I’m on the second line, right in Price’s spot. The pace of play is faster and there’s a lot more focus on my ability to score goals, which is clear when Ramsey takes me aside to work on positioning and clearing the defense. Ethan even jumps in for a bit to help me visualize some of what’s being discussed.

For the first time this season, I feel really challenged at practice – so challenged that I worry I won’t really be on the second line when push comes to shove. But somehow, I am – not just in my first game back with the Huskies, but in my second and third, too. And even though I have yet to score a goal, I’ve managed a couple of solid assists, continuing to put up points.

Each night, Avery and I make a point to talk, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Sometimes it’s early in the evening, before one of us goes to play. Other times it’s later, taking advantage of FaceTime and our beds for a little quality time together.

We’re coming up quick on the Christmas break, and I’m a little disappointed Avery hasn’t brought it up. I know he plans to head back to California for a couple of days – his dads had bought him the ticket over Thanksgiving. I can’t help but be a little jealous that they’ll get to see him and I won’t.

For a while, I had thought he might even have invited me along. When he’d first mentioned taking me to his favorite Vietnamese place in California, I’d panicked, brushing off the idea. Now, though, I just wish he’d bring it up again. I’m worried that the longer I stay in Minnesota, the further apart we’re drifting, no matter how often we talk. I’m convinced that if I could just lie next to him, his arm around me, my head on his shoulder, it would all be okay.