cross check
bayard Hockey 2
Bonus Epilogue
Ben
Flash and I have moved to Chicago ahead of training camp with the Aces. We’re renting a furnished apartment in Streeterville, and we’re working out with this guy named Greg Stewart, a fitness coach who works with a lot of pro athletes at his facility, FitTech. He’s given us a nutrition plan as well as a workout routine that will get us in the best shape possible before training camp.
One of our future teammates, Max Hall, is working out here, too, along with a guy named Arlo Zuhler, who was just drafted by the Panthers.
We eat lunch together our first day there. Greg has meals for us already made up and in the fridge. There are four of us around the table in the break room of the gym—me, Flash, Max and Arlo.
Max sticks his fork in the shepherd’s pie. “There’s no meat in this.”
“Nope.” Greg grins. “Vegetarian shepherd’s pie. Gotta get you guys eating a meatless meal once a week.”
I have no problem with it. Once a week is fine, and this pie tastes pretty good. Flash is devouring his. I’m starving too, after busting my ass all morning.
“So what’s your story, guys?” Max asks us. “First round draft picks, right?”
Flash and I glance at each other and shrug. “Right. We both played at Bayard College,” Flash says.
“Where you from originally?” Max asks Flash, taking another bite of the vegetarian pie.
“Canada.”
“Oh, hey, fellow Canuck. Whereabouts?”
“I grew up in Kamloops. Played major junior in Saskatoon.” He grins. “I’m a fan of yours. I play left wing too.”
Max nods.
Sure Flash, suck up to the veteran player.
“And you?” Max looks at me.
“I play center. Grew up in Detroit.”
“How about you, Arlo?”
“From Chicago. Went to Yale.” He grins. “Played against these two. And beat them.”
Flash and I scowl.
“So what advice can you give us about training camp?” Jacob asks. “You’re a veteran player.”
After a pause, Max says, “Well. You guys are young. Remember, everyone has their own path. Even if you don’t make the team this year, playing in the AHL is good experience too. Gives you a real taste of being pro.”
Yeah, I don’t want to hear about not making the team this year. I’m going into this with the mindset that I’m gonna crack that roster.
“You’re doing the right thing by coming here,” Max adds. “Getting stronger and working on your skills is never going to hurt. But it’s what’s between the ears is what sets guys apart. Maturity. Focus. How to deal with adversity. Sometimes you have to just learn those things by playing as a pro, and that’s not always in the NHL.”
Flash and I glance at each other. Another depressing comment about not playing in the NHL. Is he trying to discourage us? Or is he just being real?
“Most of all, just have fun, work hard, and don’t be intimidated. We’re all just players who went through the same thing.” He grimaces. “I’m going through it all over again.”
We nod. We know his story. He hasn’t played for over a year. When his wife got terminal cancer, he took time off to be with her, and then when she passed, he didn’t come back. I don’t know the details—if it was a choice, or if he was so messed up that he couldn’t play. But I admire him for the effort he’s making now. He’s not a young guy, which has to make it even harder. We think we’re worried about securing a roster spot? It must be even worse for him. What if he doesn’t? Would his career be over?
A couple weeks later on a Friday, we head out for beers after our workout. We go to the Sin Bin, which is a cool bar owned by one of the other Aces players, Jared Rupp. He joins us at the table. It’s great to get to know another one of the guys before training camp.
“I don’t get why chicks get so worked up about the goddamn toilet seat,” I grumble as we drink our beers. Skyler and Ella came and stayed with us last weekend and there was an issue about the toilet seat.
Flash grins. “Forgot to put it down again, huh?”
“Actually I think it was you.” I glares at him accusingly.
“Not me!” Flash holds up his hands. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“If you ever got up in the middle of the night and sat down right into the cold water you’d understand,” Tyler, another player who’s joined us at the gym, says. “I always sit down to piss in the middle of the night. Then I don’t have to worry about aim.”
“I just can’t remember,” I complain. “I’m half-asleep and all I’m thinking is that I wanna drain the dragon and get back to bed.”
They all make sympathetic noises.
“Hey, Buck, that’s a nice shirt,” Jared says to me with a chin lift.
Oh yeah, Jared Rupp likes to dress nice, too. Flash calls me his mini me.
I look down at my dark jeans and striped shirt, and the bunch of woven leather bracelets looped around my wrist. “Thanks.” I smile.
“Not like yours.” Jared frowns at Max’s T-shirt. “What is this, throwback Thursday?”
Max glances at his worn shirt. “This? This is vintage.”
Jared snorts. “Vintage. Good one.”
I slide off the stool. “Be right back.” I head to the men’s room.
When I get back, a couple of chicks have stopped at the table. They’re young and they’re getting their flirt on with Flash. Their eyes light up when I slide back onto my stool.
“Hi,” the blonde says. “I’m Chelsea.”
“Hi, Chelsea.”
“This is Sarah.” Chelsea gestures at her friends. “We’re both hockey fans.”
“Oh yeah? That’s great.”
“When you’re done here, maybe you’d like to join us?” Chelsea bats her eyelashes at us.
“Uh, thanks, but we’re on a pretty strict training regimen. Just here for one.” I lift my glass. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not interested in picking up puck bunnies and I’m pretty sure Flash isn’t either.
The girls drift away, disappointed.
“You guys act like you’re married,” Max says.
I wrinkle my nose. Married? Hell, no. But… Jesus. I might as well be. I’m not interested in anyone but Ella. Pretty sure Flash is the same. We’re trying to work things out for a future together. So…we’re young, but maybe marriage isn’t such a crazy idea.
“Yeah, I guess.” Flash says.
I just shrug, a little startled by my thoughts.
“You got chicks coming on to you all the time,” Tyler says. “Don’t you want to tap that?”
“Yeah, you’re young, you should be out having fun,” adds Kyle, another guy from the gym.
Flash shrugs. “I’ve uh, been there and done that.”
“What, when you were twelve?”
“I’m not that young.” He glances at me. “We’re both twenty.”
“Jesus.” Jared, owner of the bar, covers his ears. “Don’t say that out loud.”
“Yeah, that’s old in hockey years,” Max says.
Jacob laughs. “Right.”
“Well, I’m not too old to fuck around.” Tyler slides off the stool. “Imma talk to that blond over there.” And he picks up his beer and heads off.
“So what’s your plan for the fall?” Max ask Flash and me. “I mean, with your girlfriends. You guys aren’t thinking about marriage, are you?”
“Maybe.” Flash makes a face. “No rush. Skylar’s got two years of college left.”
“Same with Ella,” I say. “And we don’t know where we’re going to be. But I guess we’ve all learned that we have to go with the flow and deal with things when they happen.”
“That’s a good attitude.”
“Thanks for the help you’ve been giving me,” Flash says. “I appreciate it. Need all the help I can get.”
“You’re gonna be okay, kid.”
“Why is my phone blowing up?” I pick up my phone and peer at it. “On Twitter. What the fuck?”
I start reading. I don’t even use Twitter much. I squint. I frown. “What the hell… Jesus Christ.” What am I seeing? I scroll through the approximately six hundred replies and retweets, many of them from women, some including images of panties and bras. I pause at a lacey purple thong. “Jesus.”
My tweet says, I’ve decided to stop wearing underwear. What the fuck? “I didn’t… Who did this?”
I look up at the guys who are all attempting an innocent expression.
“Never leave your phone unattended and unlocked,” Max says with a grin. Then he leans over to try to see. “What does it say?”
I yank my phone back.
He shrugs and unlocks his own phone. Then he chuckles.
Everyone else does the same and then they’re all cracking up, laughing. Assholes.
“I guess it’s too late to delete it,” I say with a groan. “Fuck me.”
“Never too late.” They laugh more.
“Sure it’s juvenile,” Max says, grinning. “But hockey players love our practical jokes.”
I shake my head, smiling ruefully. “Damn. Lesson learned.”
Flash tells the others the story of the rubber snake in the cooler trick.
I’ll file this little incident away for future. One day there will be a chance to get my revenge.
I can’t wait to be part of a new team.
If you want to know more about the Chicago Aces, and get peeks into Jacob and Ben’s future, read my Aces Hockey series — starting with Major Misconduct.