Chapter Twenty-Six #2
My first goal takes them by surprise, but they’re still determined.
They laugh it off as a lucky shot and tell me I’m doing well for an old guy.
I don’t even try to hide my amusement. The tall, dark-haired kid from earlier introduces himself as Travis.
He’s the center on my line, although we only have enough people for two lines.
After watching him play, I’m confident we’ll wipe the floor with them.
He’s so damn fast it’s difficult to keep up at first, but I’m nothing if not determined.
Travis scores the second goal, grabbing a pass I feed him from the side, then deking around the defender with the confidence of a pro. Damn, this kid is talented with the puck. We high-five in celebration before skating back for the face-off.
By the time I score my second goal, a top-shelf beauty I’m quite proud of, the other team has started to grumble. Travis has the assist, and he’s flat-out laughing. The rest of my team is beginning to feel much more confident, as evidenced by their uptick in chirping.
This isn’t the beat-down I expected; it’s even better. After the first couple of goals, the other team begins to dig in and elevate their play.
Game on, boys.
The game ends six to three in our favor.
This is what I’ve missed about my playing days.
I’m exhausted and sore, but in the best way.
I’m not alone because everyone is smiling by the end, as they line up to shake hands after the game.
A few even give Travis and me a respectful nod.
This is how the game is meant to be played.
I decide that fitting this into my schedule on the regular is a priority.
Sometimes, you need to return to your roots to gain perspective.
I’m heading back to the locker room for a much-needed shower when Travis nudges me in the arm.
“Looks like the Hawk is still holding his own.”
I laugh, not even a bit surprised he knows my old nickname. Yup, this kid’s a smart one. I don’t deny it when I respond. Instead, I stop to look him in the eye like I would any of my players. He’s earned it.
“Yeah, I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve.
Seriously, though, what about you? Are you playing right now?
I’ve gotta say your play was consistent and well-paced.
You’ve got some skill with the puck, and your speed is almost on par with the pros.
Although I have the feeling your skating speed could be faster if you wanted.
” I raise an eyebrow, inviting him to share.
His smile is somewhat bemused, and as he tries to answer my barrage of questions. I realize he’s a bit starstruck, and I’m beyond flattered.
“Uh, yeah, I’m playing for my college team right now.
It’s only intramural hockey because it’s a local college, and we aren’t that good.
I just love to play, man, so I come here a lot.
Sure, maybe I hold it back a little, but it’s because they’re a fun group of guys.
I’m not here to show anyone up, not my thing,” he says casually.
I hear the humility, and I respect it, so I nod. I don’t agree with his assessment on holding back, but he’s not asking for my opinion. This kid is something special. I’m going to mention him to Jonesy so we can keep an eye on his career and maybe give it a little push if he’s willing.
“Any interest in playing at a higher level, or is this just a hobby?” I ask because now I’m invested and curious.
He shrugs.
“I would love to play at a decent hockey college, but my parents don’t have that kind of money.”
I nod sympathetically. He’s not wrong. Hockey’s an expensive sport, and I understand the money issue.
My parents struggled to afford for me to play years ago, and it was a lot cheaper back then.
Now, the costs are crazy high. Parents are the unsung heroes of the youth hockey world.
I have so much respect for all the things my parent gave up, just so I could play hockey.
“Mom’s a teacher, and Dad works for Ball at the plant. We’re not poor or anything. Just don’t have enough for hockey and college. I help by working here on weekends to cover my books, fees, and gear. Mr. Helmut’s cool about being flexible with my schedule.”
I keep nodding so he’ll keep talking. This kid’s got his priorities straight, and I love seeing it.
“I can get my first few years of gen ed done much cheaper at the community college, and it only matters where you graduate from in the end, so I’m hoping by my last year, I can afford to go to a state college.
” His face is so full of hope and ambition.
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be that young.
His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can’t help but grin.
“Smart move. I agree, it’ll keep expenses down. It won’t help with your hockey issue, though. What’s your major, or do you know it yet?”
“Yup. Computer science. I want to be a software developer someday, designing video games or something. I took one class already, and it was kick ass. I’m psyched for junior year when I can take more classes toward my major.”
This kid has a plan, and it’s a damn good one, from what I can tell.
When I was that age, I couldn’t find my gear half the time, and hockey was my only genuine interest. I need to keep track of this kid.
He’s got incredible raw talent, and he’s got the kind of mindset that gets kids to the pros.
He could use a little mentoring, and I know the perfect guy for the job.
Jonesy could use a hobby anyway. Maybe we can secure him a scholarship or some financial aid. I’ll check with Joslyn.
“Sounds like you’ve got a solid plan, Travis. That’s gonna be key in life if you want to succeed. You’re on the right track.”
“Hopefully, it’ll work out.” He pauses, looking a little nervous, before asking hesitantly, “So, think you’ll stop by here again sometime? We usually do a pickup game a few times a week. It’d be cool to skate with you again.”
“Absolutely. Tonight was fun. Tell you what, why don’t you give me your number, and let’s keep in touch? Here’s my phone. Go ahead and add your info, then text yourself.” I hand him my phone, and he does what I’ve asked.
“Thanks, Mr. Hawk!” He gives me back my phone, then smirks and punches my arm. “You did alright for an old guy,” he chirps, heading for the locker room.
I don’t even try to keep up. I’m feeling all thirty-eight of my years right now.
“Just Hawk,” I shout after him, the cocky bastard, but I’m smiling because hockey is the best fucking game, even if tomorrow I’m going to hurt like hell.