Chapter Thirty-Eight Randall
The day begins like any other day during hockey training camp. Think Hunger Games, but instead of killing each other, we’re killing ourselves at the gym.
The weight room is the first arena, where we cycle through deadlifts and bench presses. That’s only the beginning of the self-inflicted pain. The real torture is saved for the explosive plyometric drills that are coupled with high intensity cardio.
I love it. Never thought I would say that, but training all summer instead of vacationing has really paid off.
What a summer. Elise and I have officially been living together for a few weeks. The best weeks.
The fact that I hadn’t been much of a decorator makes sense now. I was waiting for her to build our home together.
She’s brought gorgeous touches everywhere. Colorful pillows and eye-catching art. Way better bedsheets that smell like the flowers lingering on her skin. Great food we can eat at home instead of ordering in.
Today is the first day everyone is on the ice to work on drills and scrimmage. As a goalie, this is the best part, because the intensity finally tests our skills.
Unlike other players who can gauge their readiness by measuring speed or puck handling, my job is always going to be determined in real time.
I stop those shots, or I don’t. My reflexes are sharp, or they’re not.
Jeremy is back and looking good. There are also two other goalies skating with us. One is Soren and the other is a college kid. Unlike all the other positions on the roster, our placements are less volatile. We’ve had up to six goalies in training camp in the past, even though it’s been Jeremy with me as backup for the last few years.
Everyone is in a great mood when we’re sent to the locker rooms to change. It’s the first day of scrimmage, so there aren’t any looming cuts.
I’m surrounded by familiar faces and new rookies. The friends I haven’t seen all summer show off pictures of their vacations or give updates on their kids. The locker room feels like a family reunion.
“Haughland, come by before you leave,” Coach Zach says.
It isn’t unusual for the coaching staff to work one-on-one with players before the season starts.
When I knock on his door, I take stock of the opportunity I’m presented. Ever since Logan and I talked about my place in the Mavericks as a second goalie, I’ve been figuring out how to get the message across that I’m ready for more. That I’m here for the team.
Actions speak louder than words, of course, but it won’t hurt to use the meeting to state my intentions.
“Sit down, Randi.” He points to the only vacant seat in a semi-circle facing his desk. The rest of the coaching staff are present with their tablets and binders.
I feel like I’m back in high school, getting in trouble.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t far from the truth.