Chapter 9 #2
“Go, Charlie!!!” Olive yelled as she watched her work with another player to score. Olive could tell it was Charlie from the last name printed on her jersey. She knew there was no way that the player heard her, but she still wanted to support her with her energy at the very least.
Finally, miraculously, Team Canada managed to get their first goal. It happened so quickly that Olive was unable to track the exact movement of the puck, but the energy around her came to life as everyone stood up and screamed.
“Go Canada!!” everyone yelled, and Olive joined in.
She was not particularly patriotic, but she could feel the sense of unity from everyone around her, and it was nice to feel part of a group for once.
She didn’t want to think about it too deeply, but maybe she had gotten too used to being independent.
“That was amazing!” the person next to her yelled.
“I know!!” Olive yelled back. It was not an invitation to a deeper conversation, which Olive appreciated, but it was still nice to feel that camaraderie.
When the cheers finally died down a little, she was able to focus on what the commentators called out for the game.
“Lajoie goal, scoring her first goal of the game, number 23 for Canada. Assisted by Plaker, number 12. time of the goal, 17:46. That’s Team Canada goal, scored by Charlotte Lajoie, number 23, first of the game. Assisted by Plaker, number 12. Time of the goal, 17:46.”
Had Charlie scored that goal? Why did that instantly make her ten times hotter than she already was?
“Go, Charlie!!” Olive cheered again when the announcement faded away.
The players were now back on the ice, on some sort of short break while attendants came to sweep the ice.
Olive had no clue there was so much cleaning in the game, but this was already the second time this had happened.
Unfortunately, Team Canada’s bench was on the opposite side of where Olive sat, so she was unable to see Charlie from up close.
During the first intermission, Olive tried to follow where Charlie and the team went, but she was way too far away to see anything.
She debated getting up to use the washroom.
Though she was used to a long Toronto line, Olive imagined that a line at the Olympics would be on a scale even she was unprepared for, so she decided to stay seated.
She didn’t need to use the washroom yet, and she could stretch her legs after the game.
“So, where are you from?” the friendly older woman to her left asked.
“Toronto. How about you?” Olive politely replied.
“Ottawa,” she continued.
They chatted for a little bit more, but Olive’s mind was admittedly elsewhere—mainly on how excited she was to be there to cheer for Charlie and how unbelievably interested she was suddenly in the sport.
Olive had always viewed sports as something boring, but perhaps it turned out that her lack of interest in them was because it was always seen as by and for men—both of which she had no interest in.
Something about seeing women do the same activity made it twenty times better, and Olive had a newfound appreciation for Charlie’s skill.
“Lucky! Lucky! Lucky!” the crowd cheered as Charlie swept down the ice, keeping the puck close.
Olive had no clue what play was happening, but she was a little confused on the nickname.
She had heard it earlier, but she wasn’t sure who it was aimed at.
Now seeing Charlie clearly in control of the puck as the people around them chanted, Olive realized it must’ve been her.
“Excuse me,” Olive turned back to the older woman she chatted with earlier. “Why are they calling Charlie that?”
“Oh, Lajoie?” she asked. Olive nodded.
“Her nickname is Lucky Lajoie. When she joins a new team, they go from tanking to being the best in the league. Doesn’t hurt that she comes from a long line of players. Lucky indeed.”
Olive nodded. “Thanks.”
Though it made sense considering the explanation, Olive wasn’t sure if it was entirely merited.
Olive was not an expert on the subject, but even she recognized that there had to be some level of skill at this calibre.
This was the Olympics. Was Olive supposed to think that Charlie had gotten there based on luck alone?
She vaguely remembered Charlie mentioning a nickname, but she hadn’t thought of it further.
It was likely not that deep to the audience, but there was something about it that had rubbed Olive the wrong way. Maybe it was part of the reason Charlie was so intense about her sport. Did some part of her believe that it was luck that brought her to this point in her career?
The thoughts of Charlie’s career faded as Sweden scored a goal, sending Olive’s section into a rambunctious disappointment.
The ice cleared, and Olive watched as the players all skated back to the tunnel. It was only the second period, but Olive was starting to understand the flow of the game a bit more now.
Eventually, the players were back on the ice, and it was clear that Team Canada was on the offensive again.
Charlie, in particular, seemed extra aggressive.
She almost got into a fight with one of the larger Swedish players, and Olive watched anxiously to see if the ref would call a penalty.
When they didn’t, Olive released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this enraptured, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the ice.