Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Bodi
The first week of training camp is usually dedicated to rookies.
The first part is the combine, where they have to show just how fit they are, and then there are a lot of scrimmages and such so the coaching staff can figure out who’s going and who’s staying.
However, since this is an expansion team, it was announced that we all have to participate—in everything.
Like we’re all rookies trying to earn our places on the team.
Which kind of sucks.
It’s nice to get to a place in your career where you’re beyond that, but apparently, Coach Morrison has his own ideas about things.
The only real exception to that is Vik. He’s going to be our starting goalie unless and until he can’t win games for us.
The situation is more worrisome for Simon, as the backup, because the minor league kid—a guy named Jethro, of all things—is pretty damn good.
He’s green but up-and-coming, so Simon is going to have to fight for his place as the back-up, something he wasn’t anticipating.
“This is bullshit,” he mutters as we break for lunch on Wednesday. “I’m way too old for this. I could have stayed in Vegas and not had to worry about any of this.”
“It keeps us on our toes,” West says diplomatically.
“Yeah, coming from a guy who not only is guaranteed a spot on the team but is also in the running for captain,” Simon quips.
West shrugs. “It’s part of the life, man. Just do what you do and don’t worry about anyone else. Keep your eye on the prize.”
“There are presents?” Vik asks in confusion.
Simon rolls his eyes but the rest of us laugh.
The five of us who live together have become pretty tight in the short time we’ve known each other.
We eat together most nights, work out together, and even went to the movies the other night.
Jayne was working late at the library, so I went with the guys to see a new action film that was pretty good.
I’m beginning to feel like I fit in here, which is a bonus because this week has sucked so far.
I don’t mind the physical exertion—I’m in good shape—but it’s the mind fuck part that pisses me off.
Even though I had a tough season last year, I was picked up by the Thunder for a reason.
All of us were. Forcing all of us to earn our place on the team feels like Coach is fucking with us just because he can.
And the sports pundits, who are invited to everything going on with the Thunder right now, are running with it.
The good news is that we’re all over the press, which is never a bad thing for an expansion team. The bad news is that it makes some of us look bad. So far, no one has said much about me, but Simon got hammered in a story yesterday because he didn’t have great numbers on one of the exercises.
“McGregor!” Coach Morrison comes into the room and calls to West. “Walk with me?”
West glances up lazily and politely wipes his mouth. “Just a sec, Coach.” He eats the last bite of pasta on his plate and then finishes his bottle of water before getting up.
“I wish I had his balls,” Simon mutters.
“He’s been around the block a few times,” I say. “And there were quite a few teams that wanted him. I don’t think he’s overly worried about his career.”
“Unlike the rest of us,” Felix mutters.
“We’ll be okay. He can’t send us all down to the minors.”
I’m not particularly worried about hockey since I have a solid contract for this season, but the thing with Jayne is problematic because I really like her. We’ve talked and texted almost constantly since Sunday and have plans to hang out Friday night.
I’m off this weekend so we’re going to go to dinner and then maybe we’ll chill at the house.
West and Simon have plans to go out with a few of the other guys on the team, Felix is driving to Savannah to see some friends who are vacationing there from his hometown, and Vik hasn’t said what he’s doing, but he tends to stay up in his room if we don’t have something going on.
I’m fairly confident we’ll have a bit of privacy.
I’ve been doing a bit of journaling too, and after digging into junk journaling, I can see myself dabbling in it.
Not for the artistic stuff so much but more of a way to keep my thoughts and things I’m working on in therapy organized in a way I can look back on.
See how far I’ve come. Remind myself of goals.
Now that I’ve started writing things down, I realize I have a lot of them.
Money is a big one. I didn’t make a lot in the minors, so there was no way to save anything while I was raising my sister and sending her to college.
I used the life insurance money we got to pay for it all, even my share.
I didn’t want her starting out in life with a mountain of debt.
And I don’t regret it. But I do need to focus on my own future now.
I have a 401K, which I’m grateful for, but there isn’t a lot in it, so the money I’m making this year is ridiculous compared to years past. West isn’t asking for much in the way of rent so I plan to save as much as possible, build up a nest egg.
In fact, the plan is to put more than half of my take home pay into savings and investments.
West gave me the name of his financial planner so I’m meeting with the guy in a few weeks.
Hopefully, that will result in a plan to follow for the next couple of years. I want to save for a house, even though I probably won’t end my career in Atlanta. Most of the guys own houses because teams help with that when you’re traded, so it’s almost always a good investment.
I’m also thinking ahead to having a family.
Whether it turns out to be with Jayne or someone else, I want to take care of my future family without us struggling or always worrying about money.
Billie and I did that for too long and while I did the best I could at the time, in retrospect, I should have worked harder to get to the NHL.
I fell into a routine in the minors. It was comfortable, easy in some ways, while everything else in my life was so fucking hard.
I wish I’d done things differently, but that’s the point—I’m going to do things differently now.
And my gut tells me Jayne is going to play a part in that.
“So, how are things going with Jayne?” West asks me as we’re heading home for the day. We’ve been driving together because we both like to get in early and there’s no reason to take two vehicles.
I lift one shoulder in a half-shrug. “We’ve gone out a few times and I’m taking her to dinner Friday night.”
He groans. “Dude. What are you doing?”
“I like her,” I grumble. “A lot.”
“Are you sure? Is she worth your career?”
“Oh, he can’t kick me off the team because I’m dating his adult daughter. She’s not a kid. Not even close. And in eight months she’s moving out anyway.”
“He can send you down to the minors.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It has nothing to do with confidence. He’s already turning out to be a hard ass, and he was extremely clear that his daughter wasn’t an option.”
“We tried to break things off and wound up in each other’s orbit again. We’re going to see what there is to see.”
He shakes his head. “You really do like playing with fire, man.”
“Maybe. Anyway, what did Coach want to talk to you about?”
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “He told me he wants me to be the team captain.”
“That’s great!” I say sincerely, then pause when he doesn’t react. “Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “He said some things I didn’t like.”
“Such as?”
“He wants me to keep an eye on my teammates and let him know what they’re up to. Basically, he wants me to be a rat, keep him informed who’s sleeping around, who’s drinking too much, shit like that. A spy wearing the C on his jersey.”
“Jesus.” I let out a low whistle. “That’s not cool at all. Jayne mentioned him blackmailing some of his players at his old job.”
“Fuck that and fuck him,” he grumbles.
“How did you respond?”
“Told him I’d think about it.”
“My relationship with Jayne is going to fall under the category of things you should have told him.”
“I would never tell him something like that, but we’re roommates.
When and if he finds out, he’s also going to figure out that I knew and didn’t tell him.
I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m not afraid of him.
If he thinks he’s going to bench me or punish me somehow, good luck with that.
I literally could go back to the Vipers today if I called them.
I had seven teams trying to sign me so I’m not worried about my future.
But I don’t want to get caught up in drama—this is my career, you know, and people talk. ”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry if my decisions could potentially blow back on you. If you prefer, I can keep her away from the house. That way, you have plausible deniability.”
He’s quiet for a minute but then shakes his head. “Nah. That’s bullshit. It’s your home too. Just do me a favor and give me a head’s up if things start to go sideways.”
“It sounds like you’ve already decided to say yes.”
“I don’t know how else to protect everyone,” he admits. “If Coach is looking for dirt, or ways to fuck with us, and I say no, we have no way of knowing what whomever he chooses is up to.”
“How is this a thing?” I demand. “I mean, what’s up with this guy? I’ve only ever played on two other teams as an adult. The Rebels and then the Phantoms but this can’t be normal, can it?”
West hesitates. “It’s not. I’ve played on quite a few high-level teams, both in the Juniors and in the pros, and I’ve never seen a coach like this.
I’m hoping he’s just trying to establish some sort of dominance, so we know he’s not a pushover.
Maybe once the season starts and he gets to know us, he’ll loosen up. ”
I hope so too because this entire situation could make my life miserable.