3. Griffin
GRIFFIN
T he crowd erupts as I block a shot from HC Davos’s center, Stefan Weber. These Swiss players are fast. Especially Weber, who’s been dancing around our defense all night.
“Nice save, McGregor!” Peter Koch, our center, taps my pads with his stick as he skates past.
I’ve been with EHC Visp Fohn for three weeks now, and the team’s already starting to feel like family.
Peter is teaching me Swiss German curse words I probably shouldn’t repeat.
Christoph “Speedy” Rüeger lives up to his nickname as our right wing.
And then there’s Tyler Matthews, another NHL lockout refugee.
He’s from the Minnesota Bandits, playing defense for Visp and helping me adjust to European ice.
The arena here isn’t as big as the Blizzard Dome, but these Swiss fans make up for it in pure passion. They’re waving flags and singing songs I still can’t understand.
“Watch the trailer!” I shout as I spot Davos’s sniper, Jonas Müller, sneaking in behind our defense.
Tyler picks up on my warning and cuts off Müller’s angle. Seconds later, Peter scores on the other end. The horn blasts, and our fans start chanting “Fohn! Fohn! Fohn!”
“That’s how we do it in Visp!” Peter circles back, spraying ice as he stops. “Griffin, you’re bringing us luck, my friend.”
I flash him a thumbs-up, then reset for the face-off.
The game here is different. Wider ice, more passing, less hitting.
But hockey is hockey, and right now, with the NHL locked out, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Well, maybe one place, if I’m being honest. My mind drifts to a certain bathroom intruder with fierce eyes and a deadly trout…
The whistle snaps me back to reality as Davos’s center wins the draw clean.
I track the puck as it ping-pongs between players, my muscles coiled and ready.
A shot rings off my mask, and I instinctively snag the rebound before it drops. The crowd roars, and I can’t help scanning the sea of faces. Is she out there? The pretty strawberry blonde with perfectly pink cheeks?
I shake my head, refocusing as Weber dekes past our defense.
“McGregor!” Tyler shouts from my left. “Two-on-one!”
I drop into my butterfly stance, tracking the puck as Weber dekes left, then right.
Not this time, buddy.
The puck’s a blur, but I track it off his stick, kicking out my right pad. The save isn’t pretty, but it gets the job done. The crowd roars their approval.
“Your mother was a hamster!” Peter shouts at Weber as he skates by.
I’ve learned that’s one of his tamer insults.
The game flows back and forth, and between saves, my mind keeps drifting to the girl with the terrible singing voice. Who breaks into a cabin belting at the top of their lungs?
The memory makes me smile behind my mask.
Another shot, another save. The crowd starts chanting something that sounds like a mix between a drinking song and a war cry.
I still can’t understand half of what anyone says here, but hockey?
Hockey I understand perfectly. The sound of blades cutting ice, the hollow thwack of stick on puck, the surge of adrenaline as I track the play. It all speaks the same language.
The final horn blares, and we’ve done it. Squeaked out a 3-2 win against Davos. My heart’s still racing from that last sequence, where I had to make three saves in quick succession.
As we line up for the post-game handshakes, I spot a familiar face that makes me do a double take. “Holy smokes, Dex Campbell?”
We played juniors together back in Calgary. I didn’t see him on the ice tonight, but goaltenders rarely share a game 50/50.
“Griffin McGregor, you beauty!” He grins through his beard as we fist bump. “Sick saves tonight, man.”
We can’t chat more, as the line keeps moving, but Dex taps his wrist as if to say, ‘let’s catch up later.’
After showering and changing, I find him waiting outside our locker room. “There’s a great coffee place around the corner,” he says. “Unless you’ve got team obligations?”
“Nah, I’m free. Lead the way.”
The café is cozy, with wood-paneled walls and the rich smell of fresh-roasted beans. Dex orders something complicated in perfect Swiss German while I stumble through pointing at the menu.
“So how long have you been over here?” I ask once we’re settled with our drinks.
“Three seasons now. Swiss league’s been good to me.” He stirs his coffee. “Better than riding buses in the AHL, that’s for sure. But what about you? Starting tendy for the Titans. That’s huge.”
“When we’re not locked out.”
“Could be worse places to land than Switzerland.” Dex grins. “The mountains, the chocolate, the beautiful women…”
I almost choke on my coffee, as if Dex knew I’d been thinking about my bathroom intruder all night.
Dex raises an eyebrow at my reaction, but I quickly change the subject. “Wow, it’s good to see you, man. Juniors seems forever ago.”
Dex leans back in his chair. “Yeah. Remember that time the bus broke down outside Red Deer?”
I snort. “Coach made us do jumping jacks to stay warm and what’s-his-name complained the whole time.”
“Bryce Sheriton.”
I snap my fingers, memories flooding back. “Yes! Oh my gosh, Bryce Sheriton. Except we used to call him?—”
“Bryce Krispies!” we both exclaim in unison, laughing at the memory.
“What a weenie,” I say. “He was the laziest player I’ve ever seen.”
“Man, junior hockey was something else. Remember when someone filled your blocker with shaving cream?” Dex smirks proudly while pointing at himself.
“That was you?” My jaw drops. “I blamed Aiden Harrison for months!”
Dex’s eyes shine with mischief. “The look on your face when you went to make that first save.”
“I had foam shooting up my sleeve! The refs had to stop the game.”
“Hey, it made you more flexible. You were doing splits trying to shake that stuff out.”
I shake my head, still amazed after all these years. “Speaking of games, I didn’t see you out there tonight until the handshake line. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just my rest game, but I was suited up just in case. We’ve got a good rotation going.
Coach likes to keep us both fresh. Tonight was Eric’s night.
He’s a solid keeper. This way we’re both sharp when it counts.
” Dex takes a sip of his coffee. “You know how it is. Play too many games and suddenly your reflexes are shot come playoff time.”
“Tell me about it. Back in Toronto, Coach Knight practically has to drag me off the ice sometimes. But he’s right. By game sixty, those cross-ice one-timers start looking a lot faster.”
“At least we’re not stuck in some AHL barn playing three-on-threes anymore.” Dex raises his cup in a mock toast. “To Switzerland.”
“To Switzerland,” I echo.
“So, how long are you planning to stick around here?” I ask. “Think you might head back to Calgary anytime soon?”
Dex’s face lights up in a way I’ve never seen before. “Actually, I’m pretty settled in Davos. Met someone special.” He pulls out his phone, showing me a photo of him with a stunning blonde. “This is Marta. She’s a physiotherapist for the team.”
“Wow, doctor girlfriend. Fancy.”
“Yeah, she’s incredible. Speaks five languages, loves hiking, and somehow puts up with my terrible attempts at Swiss German. We travel all over Europe during the offseason.”
“Living the dream, huh?”
“Can’t complain.” Dex tucks his phone away, but his smile remains. “Living here, playing hockey, being with her…it just feels right, you know? Can’t imagine going back to Canada anymore.”
I nod, but something in my chest tightens. “Really? You’d stay here permanently for a girl?”
“When you know, you know.” He shrugs. “What about you? Any Swiss misses catching your eye?”
My mind flashes to strawberry blonde hair and a brandished trout, but I shake it off.
“I mean, there are beautiful women here, but…” I trail off. “I can’t imagine staying in another country for someone unless we’re married. Even if…” I catch myself before finishing that thought.
“Even if what?” Dex’s eyebrows shoot up with interest.
“Even if…there might be someone worth getting to know better.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“It’s nothing. Just this crazy encounter at my rental.” I wave it off, but I can’t help smiling. “She tried to attack me with a fish.”
“A fish?” Dex bursts out laughing. “Only you, McGregor. Only you.”
“It wasn’t a real fish,” I amend.
“Does she live here? In Visp?”
“Actually, I’m not living in Visp. The team set me up with this sweet apartment downtown, but…” I lean back in my chair. “I found this perfect little cabin in Gr?chen. It’s like stepping into a postcard.”
“Gr?chen?” Dex furrows his brow. “That’s a bit of a drive, isn’t it?”
“Only thirty minutes to the arena. The commute’s worth it.” I pull out my phone to show him some photos. “Look at this view from my deck. Reminds me of growing up near Banff. Dad used to take us hiking there every summer.”
“Man, you and your mountain obsession.” Dex shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Most guys would take the fancy apartment in the city.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not most guys.” I swipe through more photos. “The cabin belongs to this guy Walter, who’s traveling. It’s got this old stone fireplace, these massive windows overlooking the forest. Total silence. Just me and the mountains. Here’s the hiking trail that heads into the village.”
“And that’s where you met the fish lady?” Dex smirks.
I feel my cheeks heat up. “She was just using my bathroom.”
“Hold up.” Dex wipes tears from his eyes. “She…used your bathroom? A random woman walked into your cabin…to pee?”
“Well, technically it wasn’t random. She knows the cabin owner.” I wince. “Apparently she has permission to use the spare key for emergencies?”
“And her emergency was…?”
“Nature called during her morning hike, I guess? Look, she was listening to music and probably didn’t notice my stuff everywhere. Then she came bursting out of the bathroom singing Blondie at the top of her lungs.”
“Blondie?” Dex interrupts, shoulders shaking with laughter.
“One Way or Another.” I can’t help grinning. “Not her best performance.”
“So she’s singing Blondie, sees you, and grabs…a fish?”
“It was this musical trout thing. Like a wall decoration.” I mime wielding it like a weapon. “She started yelling at me in two languages.”
Dex is practically doubled over now. “Please tell me you got her number.”
“No, she kind of…ran away.” I scratch the back of my neck. “But I’m pretty sure she lives in town somewhere. Gr?chen’s small, so…”
“So you’re gonna casually lurk around street corners in case she happens to walk by?”
“What? No! I just might keep an eye out. You know, in case she needs to use my bathroom again.”