Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three (16 page)

M
y new job
gave me the world’s strangest schedule. I had to be at work by 5:00am, but since I was inexperienced, I went in even earlier so I could triple-check everything. As a result, I found myself wanting to go to bed around 8:00pm every night. This would have wrecked my social life if I had one.

I did have my afternoons off though. After production meetings for the next day, I was usually done by 2:00pm. None of my friends were free then, unless I wanted to help Karen with her dog-walking job.

So I decided to do something productive with my free time. I went back to see Lois, the woman in charge of the Britannia Community Centre where I had taught skating last summer.

“Kelly, it’s great to see you again.” Lois Phan was a real dynamo and worked very hard for what I suspected was not a huge salary. “What can I do for you?”

“I came in to see if you need any assistant coaches for hockey. I have some free time, and I’d like to volunteer.”

Her dark pencilled eyebrows went up. “Well, that’s nice. We don’t get many volunteers who aren’t parents.” She reached into a drawer. You’ll have to fill out some forms. I think we did a police check on you when you worked for us last summer, but you need a new one every year. I’ll talk to someone in minor hockey about you. Did you have an age range you prefer?”

“Not really. Maybe younger kids? Actually, you know one thing—I’d prefer to help a team that had boys and girls. Because that was my team back in the day.”

I got a call from Lois the very next day. She had found a team that was a perfect fit for me. I called the coach, a guy named Mark George, and he suggested I come to practice that night. He muttered something about knowing what I was getting into first, and didn’t sound very welcoming.

I got to Britannia Rink with a small duffle of gear. To my surprise, there was only one coach on the ice with the whole team, although there were a few parents hovering on the bench. I laced up my skates, grabbed my stick and went out on the ice.

“Oh hey, you came,” said Mark. He was a dark-haired guy around forty. “Kids, this is Terry.”

“Actually, it’s Kelly.”

“Sorry.”

The kids eyed me suspiciously. They were various sizes, and five of them were girls. Since the team were Atom, they were nine and ten. While a few of the boys were well equipped, most of the kids had worn out gear. One of the bigger guys mumbled, “What’s she doing here?”

“We need more coaches, and Kelly might be one of them.”

“A girl coach?” the same kid asked. “This team is even more of a joke than I thought.”

“Girls are good players these days. Like the Canadian women’s Olympic team,” I explained, but the little smartass rolled his eyes at that.

Mark sighed and blew his whistle. “Let’s get started on our warm-up.” They skated around the rink, and it was clear that there were some major differences. Half the team was decent, but the others were terrible skaters. When they were supposed to skate backwards, there was a lot of falling down. And the good skaters were mocking or ignoring the bad ones. This was the worst team chemistry I’d ever seen.

Mark ran the kids through some drills, but the biggest problem remained the discrepancies. There was a lot of standing around while the slower kids scrambled to complete the drills that the good kids breezed through. They had a scrimmage at the end. Predictably, the good kids had the puck all the time, and the other kids hardly got any good game play in.

Afterwards, the kids took off, and I chatted with Mark.

“Not sure if you’re still interested now that you can see what you’re in for.”

“No, I’m in. But why is the team so varied in their abilities?”

He shook his head. “It’s only my second year as head coach. Last year, when I got to the draft, I basically got snowed. The other coaches traded me all their rejects and problem players. And when it came to this year’s draft, I tried to fix things but I ended up with half of last year’s group and half a team that doesn’t want to be here. Parents have already started phoning the league to get their kids traded off the ‘loser team.’ Even my own son’s not too excited.”

I shook my head. The politics of minor hockey were beyond me. “Well, the main thing is skating. We need to get their skating abilities up. They need more ice time.”

“Where did you play minor hockey?”

“North Van.”

Mark’s lip curled slightly. “Well, in the rich suburbs, most of the dads have played hockey. If not, they can send them to power skating or skatemill. Here in East Van, lots of the parents are immigrants. Their kids want to play, and the parents want to help, but they don’t have any hockey backgrounds. And most of them work.” He made a noise that seemed to dismiss me as some kind of rich bitch.

“Hey, ease up. I worked at this rink last summer, so I do have a clue about the kids in this area. And, Mark, I’m on your side. I get that you’re upset about the team, but you can’t coach alone.”

I had tons of ideas already. First off, we could split the team into two, and I could do power skating exercises with one group. There was no point in doing skills stuff with kids who aren’t going to touch the puck. My old coach, Jerry Jankowski, had shown me that it wasn’t about your best players, but making the worst players better that helped a team to win. He was a very smart coach.

“Sorry, Kelly. I guess I feel like I’ve been shafted for so long, and the new season’s already in the toilet. Have you coached before?”

I shook my head. “But I’ve taught at hockey camps and programs, and I was captain of my university hockey team.”

He shook his head, like my inexperience was yet another trial for him. “Well, you get what you get. Welcome aboard.”

Of course, it was a lot easier to think up ideas than to put them into practice. I got the worst half of the team and half of the ice. I wanted to maximize our ice time, so I set up this drill where each skater moved from station to station. Skate to the first one. Stickhandle through mini pylons. Skate backwards to the next station. Then shoot the puck. It seemed easy to me, but it was a complete gong show in practice. The kids went all different speeds, they got confused, and everything went wrong. I could see both Mark and Henrietta, the manager, shaking their heads. However the kids didn’t seem to mind the chaos, they were crashing into each other and laughing.

I blew my whistle. “Okay, let’s back it up. Everyone start doing laps while I set up.” I took the pylons and spread them far apart in a circle. We started with stickhandling our way through gaps a mile wide. Once they got the hang of it, we went faster.

“Be gentle. Cradle that puck like it’s an egg.” One of the boys promptly fired his puck into the boards and squealed that his egg had broken.

“Save that for the shooting exercise,” I told him. I was going to have to learn everyone’s names, but I was happy to see that the jerks were all in Mark’s half.

Things started going better once everyone got the drill. I’d have to teach drills one at a time before I could add them together. The main thing was to get everyone skating more. I could see that a few of them were already getting tired since they were used to stopping and starting so much.

I blew my whistle. “Stop. Can anyone here do crossovers?” I was greeted with blank faces. One step at a time. “Okay, laps again. As fast as you can go.”

Henrietta, the manager, was very supportive after my terrible first practice.

“You’re doing the right thing, Kelly. They need the skating basics.”

“Thanks. I’d really like to make things more fun. I have a few ideas, and I was wondering if any of the parents could help.”

She shook her head. “That’s one of our problems. The parents who want to help can’t skate, and the ones who can skate won’t help.” She sniffed dismissively. It must have been a pain to deal with parents who complained and tried to get off your team.

“They won’t need to skate.” Someone to time laps would be good. I wanted to see if we could borrow a radar gun and measure their shot velocity. The main thing was to get kids to compete against themselves and not each other. Then even the worst skaters could see progress. I liked a challenge—especially a hockey challenge.

J
ames

E
verything was
fine by the time training camp rolled around. After Kelly split with me, I had gone back to Fredericton in a holding pattern. In the first place, I couldn’t believe that she had chosen Davidson over me. And in the second place, we had spent that incredible, intimate night together where I felt like our bond was stronger than ever. So, I still expected that she would change her mind and call me. I figured two weeks, tops.

But when Kelly didn’t call, I started to get pretty down. My mom finally insisted that I go back to see this psychologist. I had seen him off and on while I was a teenager. I had a tendency to worry too much about stuff, and I had been counting on having Kelly to support me and be my sounding board.

Dr. Adams was a sports psychologist, but I knew he was did a lot of general therapy too. It was never easy talking to him. I hated feeling like I was different or unable to control my own emotions. He was always reassuring though, and I liked his focus on practical exercises on dealing with problems. Action was important to me. I wasn’t going to be all better right away, but as long as I could get a good night’s sleep and play at 100%, I could cope.

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right, Jim?” My mom asked when I was packing up for training camp. “I can see about getting some time off and helping you settle in.”

“It’s fine,” I told her. “You’ve done enough stuff already, and the school year’s starting.” She had come to Chicago with me and hired a housekeeper. Now I wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning the place, and the woman was going to do some cooking too. And that was in addition to all the frozen meals my mom had prepared and stocked in the freezer. I was all set for the season.

She was frowning as she ran her hand over my head. “I do worry. You put too much stock in things—like that Kelly. If she can’t appreciate you, you’re better off without her.”

“I know.” I was starting to build up resentment against Kelly. I figured that was healthier than continuing to hope. She was never coming back to me.

O
ur regular season
was finally beginning and things were getting off to a great start. We had a new rookie on the team, Leo Axelsson. During camp, J.J. nicknamed him Wheels because he was so fast. Wheels was a first rounder who was drafted a year after me. He had played an extra year in the Swedish Elite League and bulked up a bit, and he was projected to be a top forward. There had been some trades and changes in the summer, and our season was shaping up to be an excellent one.

And the biggest change was that our captain got traded, and I had been made the new captain. It was a lot of responsibility, but I felt confident I could handle it. Also, I had achieved that goal ahead of schedule. My parents were really happy for me. I had this urge to tell Kelly too, but I resisted it. All I wanted to do was pass on the information, but she might think I was bragging.

I tried hard not to think about Kelly, but it was tough. Especially when I was alone in the new condo, because she had never even come to see this place. I bought it with her in mind, and she couldn’t even check out the life she should have had. Maybe she never took me seriously, and it was all some mind game so she could make Phil jealous. She’d regret it all someday.

I tried really hard to hate her—so I could get over her—but it was hard. I was still puzzling over our last night together. Kelly had been so weirdly emotional and needy. She finally said she loved me, and I felt the intensity of our connection. But in the morning, she stuck with her decision. However, I wasn’t going to moon over someone who loved someone else.

One thing I’ve learned from hockey is that if I have a setback, I need to refocus on my original goals. Course, it’s not like I’ve had a ton of setbacks, but there’ve been a few. Not winning a championship in college and not winning the Calder were two big ones.

So I went back to my original goals for my personal life and remembered that what I had really wanted was a girlfriend who was tall, blonde, and hot. It couldn’t be too hard to find one. The Hawks were a big deal in Chicago now. We were winning, and the United Center was sold out every game.

It was easy to meet girls out at the clubs. But I was looking for someone different, someone more legitimate. The kind of girl you could show off.

We were at this private party for some corporate sponsors. Community involvement and meeting fans was a huge part of our team rebuild. As captain, I needed to be front and center.

Baller was checking out the room.

“That blonde isn’t bad at all,” he commented. There was a tall woman talking to the bartenders. She was really pretty. She was wearing a black dress that had no back at all, which meant no bra either.

J.J. shook his head. “No tits.”

She had tits, of course, but they weren’t huge. She was slim with long legs, and the way she stood reminded me of a ballet dancer. She was very feminine. That was a nice change.

“Go for it, Freeze,” Baller suggested. He had been on me for not partying more. He said it would get me out of my funk. I didn’t think I was in a bad mood.

I shrugged and went over to get a drink. She smiled at me when I ordered a beer.

“Wait,” she said. She held my wrist. “I think you should try the
Sassicaia
.”

“What?” I said to her. It was the weirdest pick up line I’d ever heard.

“It’s one of the Super Tuscans. A blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc.”

“Oh—you’re talking about wine.” I knew a little about French wines, but truth be told I wasn’t even legal to drink in the States. Nobody would ask for I.D. at a private function.

“Yes. I know wine, and I think a sophisticated gentleman like yourself would appreciate the
Sassicaia
.” Her smile was perfect. Now I could tell she was interested.

I exchanged a look with the bartender, and he poured the wine for both of us.

“Cheers,” she said. “To new friends.”

“I’m James Frechette, captain of the Blackhawks.”

“Very nice to meet you, James. I’m Astrid Dahl.”

We chatted, and it turned out that she was actually working tonight. She represented a wine importing company. That wasn’t surprising because there were hardly ever attractive single women at this kind of exclusive event. Any hot women would be trophy wives.

Astrid gave me her number, and then I had to get back to mingling because it was my job.

I joined my teammates, and Wheels was impressed. “Freeze, you’ve got all the moves.”

Baller laughed. “Yeah, right. Google ‘smooth operator’ and his photo will pop up first. You gonna call her?”

“I guess.”

Why shouldn’t I? She was exactly the kind of girl I’d always figured I’d go out with once I got to the NHL. It was time I made that goal come true.

I
was finally getting
into the swing of my producer job. Sure, I screwed up a lot at the beginning, but the beauty of the job was how temporary everything was. You made a mistake, but the next day’s show was always looming—a fresh slate where you could prove yourself all over again or mess up. But the screw-ups were slowly dwindling.

Ruby had been extremely generous with her contact list, so I was far better connected than I should have been. She claimed she had trained me so I wouldn’t call her daily during her maternity leave, but I knew it was because she was a true professional and a great mentor. Anyway, there was a lot more responsibility and challenge, and I was extremely happy—at work.

My personal life was a total void, in complete contrast to April’s popularity. I had some weak moments when I thought about calling Phil to hang out, but I was sure he was already dating other people. I wanted to be fair to Phil, so I had broken up with him, but I still had strong feelings for him that would take time to fade.

Luckily, I went to bed so early that my social pariah status wasn’t really a problem. And now that the Canucks season had started, things were really heating up at the station. There were more guests, more exciting topics, and more listener involvement. Most interviews were by phone, but a few people came to the station, and I was going to get to meet a few of the players that I’d watched for years.

One Thursday morning, Gloria, the perky new receptionist, buzzed me.

“Oh, Kelly, the Canucks prospects are here.” They hadn’t made all the cuts yet, so we were talking to some new players who might stick.

“Okay, thanks, Glo.” Gloria was adorable and a way nicer receptionist than I had been. She brought homemade cookies, listened to everyone’s problems, and knew everyone from couriers to sponsors by name. She was also married with twin daughters, so nobody hit on her. At least Cheryl had managed to change Don Johnson’s stupid hiring policy. Friendly topped hot.

I walked out and saw two guys sitting with an air of slight awkwardness in the lobby. They were dressed in suits. Suits? They did know this was radio, right?

I greeted them. “Hi, I’m Kelly Tanaka. I’m the producer for the morning show.”

“Noah Masterson,” said the smaller one. He was a second-round draft pick with good skills, but not too much size.

“I’m Peter Haines.” He was a defenceman, who had a pretty good chance to make the team. He was big, like 6’5”, and had a decent skill set. He put up really good numbers in the AHL last season. Turned out he was good-looking as well. He had thick blond hair, blue eyes, and a dazzling smile. Not that it mattered, but it was always nice for those fans who cared about that kind of thing.

Which reminded me that we were being encouraged to draw traffic to the website. “Hey, since you guys are here and all dressed up, I’ll take photos for the station website.”

I got them to pose in the lobby, beside the C2C Sports Radio sign.

Noah looked a little self-conscious, but Peter was smooth as silk.

“Make sure you’re getting my best side,” he warned me with a smile. His tan made his shiny white teeth pop.

“I’m not sure he has a bad one,” murmured Gloria, who was watching over my shoulder. I scrolled through the photos, and she was right—they all looked good.

“Okay, let’s go to the boardroom, and I’ll do quick run-through of the questions that Randy and Andy will be asking you.” Everything would be pretty straightforward, but it would be nice to get something interesting and new from them. I liked to find out about hobbies and any connections they had to the Vancouver area. It turned out that Noah, like half of the NHL, played guitar. Peter denied having any hobbies.

“I’m hockey all day long.” He paused. “Nights are a different matter.”

Was he flirting with me? I was no longer even able to tell.

The interview went well. Peter came out of the studio and paused at the control room door, motioning to me through the glass.

I went out into the hallway. “What’s up?”

“I’m from Wisconsin,” he told me.

“Congratulations,” I replied.

“It’s my first time in Vancouver.”

“Again, congrats. Look, I have to get back to work here, so maybe we can do this idle chat thing another time.”

“Great, how about tonight? Dinner? And maybe you could show me around Vancouver. I bet you grew up here.”

I was about to say no, when I figured—why the hell not? I had no social life, and he was cute. Plus, he played hockey.

“Sure,” I said. “But I have to get to bed early.”

“That’s fine with me,” he said with a laugh.

Clearly the dating game had not made me a smoother dater.

I went for a run when I got home, then showered and got ready for my early dinner date.

April came home and started calling for me when she walked in the door.

“Oh my God. I’ve been dying to talk to you. I almost woke you up last night, but I knew you had to get up at an ungodly hour. Guess what happened?”

“Tell me.”

“I got back together with Ben!”

“What, really?” Was that supposed to be a big deal? Those two were more off and on than a light switch.

April sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. But last time we split, Ben put his foot down. He told me that he really cared for me but it was too difficult to keep getting back and splitting up. He said if I came back again, I needed to be ready to commit to him.”

She threw her hands up. “I never thought that would happen, but last night I was out on a date with this guy I met at work, a screenwriter. He was trying to impress me so we went to Market at Shangri-La for dinner, and as we sat down, I saw Ben. He wasn’t with a date but with a bunch of his friends in the private dining room. As my date was droning on, I could see Ben laughing and having fun. I realized that I would rather be with him than any more random dates. I remembered how great we were together and how much… I cared too. It was like a light switch turning on in my head, and I felt, well, completely sure.”

For once, April was not glib and sarcastic, and she stumbled over the words around her emotions. Lucky Ben; I knew this meant she really did love him, even if she would never admit how much. She was a big believer in keeping men guessing.