28. JAGGER
Chapter twenty-eight
JAGGER
“Have a seat,” Coach Bradley tells me when I step into his office after practice. It was a good one. They’ve all been the last couple of weeks.
The season isn’t even a third of the way over but what a roller coaster ride it’s been already.
We’re playing at a rec center two hours from our home city. We’ve gained fans, lost fans. Won a game or two, then lost too many. I had Jess—albeit in secret—then she was ripped from my life without so much as a goodbye. But she’s back, for real this time. Now we’re on a little bit of a roll and the stands are slowly filling up again.
Coach comes over to shake my hand and give me his signature slap on the back. “I have some good news for you,” he says, beaming. “But first, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of the way you’re leading this team now, getting them back on the right track. Whatever you’re doing definitely beats my speeches, they weren’t working at all,” he laughs.
Hockey coaches aren’t usually as gregarious as Coach Bradley, but—it’s different around here. He’s not afraid to wear his emotions on his sleeve. I love him for it.
“Thanks, Coach! I’d do anything for these guys, for you. Give you a kidney, whatever you need.”
Coach chuckles some more. “Keep your kidney, Jagger. You never know if you’ll need both. But I love your passion. That’s what makes you such an amazing player. You’ve been the lynchpin to this team’s turnaround. Your play is inspiring, and I’m happy to tell you I got a call from Miami last night. They want you back, immediately, particularly after I told them what a catalyst you would be for that team, too.”
I’m stunned into silence, even though this is everything I’ve been dreaming about.
“Miami is having a down year, they’re at the bottom of their division, which is highly unusual for them. They know they need their all-star and have been following you closely, impressed by what they’ve seen lately. They’re rather desperate for you to be back in the lineup. You have a plane ticket for two days from now.”
My brain is overloaded, swirling with what my life could look like again. Back to the sunshine and the ocean, back to adoring fans filling the arena, back to an NHL team that realizes I’m a crucial part of their success.
Even with the Hawks on a better path right now, does that mean we’ll ever be any good, really? Or just not terrible?
Coach senses my hesitation, his face etched with concern. “What’s going on, Jagger?”
That’s a good question. “Um, can I think about it?”
“Think about what?” I’m sure this is the first time someone hasn’t sprinted out of the building in celebration when they’ve been called up to the NHL. Or called back to the NHL, in my case.
But I need to think about having to leave Jess. Think about abandoning my Hawks teammates, although they won’t look at it that way. They’ll be happy for me. (It’s usually every minor league hockey player’s dream to make it to the big time.) I need to consider whether I can leave a town that’s worked its way into my very being. I’ll be hard pressed to find a gnome-wearing florist in Miami.
Coach leans against his desk. “Jagger. This is your decision. I’ll support you with whatever choice you make, you know I love having you here. And I know you love Jess and your teammates, but make sure you have no regrets. You don’t want to ever look back and wonder what could have been.”
“Thanks, Coach. I really appreciate that.” I’m not close with my dad, never have been. So, Coach’s fatherly words of advice weave their way into my soul, settling in the cracks where my own father’s guidance should be. I appreciate Coach more than he’ll ever know.
“Of course. You know I’m always here for you, even if you decide to go. We’ll find a way to survive without the great Jagger West.” He smiles, then moves back around his desk to sit, the chair groaning. “Just don’t take too long. NHL teams aren’t known for having a lot of patience. I don’t want you to miss this opportunity if you want it. You’ve worked hard.”
This is crazy. Why am I not running for the closest exit like the fire alarm just went off? Maybe it’s because there’s a cruise ship sized anchor sitting on my chest, telling me that leaving would be the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve made some biggies.
There’s also the issue of my legs. They’re glued to the floor like I’ve submerged them in concrete, refusing to move even an inch.
Coach stares at me as I continue to sit frozen, invisible chains keeping me rooted to the chair, unable to make the choice I know I should make. Miami. Easy. No one picks a losing minor league team over historically one of the better teams in the league.
“You okay over there? Why don’t you go home? Take a nap. Or go on a drive, grab a bite to eat?”
“No!” I snap a little too harshly. He’s just trying to help. “I’m sorry Coach. It’s just a little overwhelming.”
“I know. I can see your struggle—it's written all over your face. Are you planning on becoming a permanent fixture in my office today? Should I just go about my work and pretend you’re not here? Use you as a coat rack?”
His joking breaks my intensity, and I feel like I can finally take a breath, the strength returning to my legs.
“Is there anything I can do to help you, Jagger?”
I feel my eyes widen at his offer, my face heats up as the blood rushes there, spurred by the idea that just popped into my head. “Yes, Coach. You can.”
***
Tonight’s home game is just another one on the schedule, nothing special as far as who we’re playing. But I told Jess Coach said there’s something big happening at the end. So, Jess hyped it up on social media, saying that fans won’t want to miss it.
She tried everything to get it out of me, but I just said I was the messenger, didn’t know any details, and Coach was tight lipped. He’s the best.
This is lying for a good cause. I’m always ok with a little untruthfulness for surprises, they don’t count. I relayed to Jess to be ready to record, that Coach should it should be great for TikTok.
I’m not nearly as certain. It’s unique, keeping with the theme of Jess’s posts so far this season. But the showman is a novice, that’s for sure.
“What’s this rumor about some type of performance at the end of the game tonight I keep hearing about,” Dax says as we get dressed in the locker room. “No one will top my show. I’m legendary.”
“In your own mind,” I retort.
Dax thinks about my comment for a moment, then replies. “For sure.”
He stands to check his hair in the locker mirror. Why I don’t know, since he’s going to be wearing a helmet in about thirty seconds. But it’s his routine. He says he can’t play well unless he looks good. It’s very Dax.
Once he’s done preening, he turns back to me. “Seriously, who’s performing? Jess has to know.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Nope. I think Coach set it up, and he’s not talking.”
I’m not sure why I didn’t tell any of the guys. I think it would just make me more nervous, and I’m nervous enough as it is. Like, I may need a bucket on the sidelines, nervous.
Which is unusual. I never get anxious before big games, no butterflies, no pits in my stomach, just focus, laser beam focus. But this is completely different, obviously. It definitely does not qualify as a hidden talent or a talent at all. I’ve never done anything like it.
Honestly, I’m counting on my back up participants to distract people if I suck.
But I told Jess I’d never leave her side again, and I meant it. Yes, I don’t want to leave the guys, Coach, or this town, either. I did hesitate at first, but then it became as clear as the shimmering waters of Jamaica where we first reconnected.
Jellyfish will always hold a special place in my heart.
It’s not a team or a town I can’t live without, it’s Jess. And I plan on showing her tonight.
My phone dings. It’s April.
April: I’ve got the package. We’re on our way back to the center. Can’t wait to see the big finale tonight!
After I talked to Coach, I went to Petal & Stem. April’s my psychologist too, remember? I wanted to double check my idea with her, see what she thought. She loves it! It was her suggestion to get a hold of Jess’s sister Nat and fly her out so she could be here for the game and the “after-show” as April has been calling it.
I had to sneak on Jess’s phone to get Nat’s number, which I hated to do, but it will be worth it. It’s all in the name of the surprise.
The knots in my stomach continue to grow as I leave the locker room, just behind Dax.
“Dang! It’s packed! Standing room only,” he shouts when he hits the ice. He waves his hands at the crowd, clearly believing somehow it revolves around him. I wonder if I could just insert him and Jess wouldn’t notice.
What am I saying? That defeats the whole purpose of putting myself out there for her, showing Jess how much she means to me. I can do this.
The game goes by in a blur, but it’s a good blur. With so many people here, it’s easy to get lost in competition, the shouts spurring on our play.
It’s the third period and time’s running out. We’re playing well but deadlocked at a 0-0 tie. I sneak up behind my opponent after stalking him down the ice. With the roar of the packed house, he doesn’t hear my skates maneuvering to get into position.
Troy sees me coming and instead of stopping the attacker, moves to the side so our opponent doesn’t change course.
That’s when I flank him, swooping in from his blind side and removing the disc right off his stick. Sixty seconds left. I’m immediately swarmed by two other opponents, but use our goal to my advantage, circling behind it and sending the puck out ahead of me to pick up speed.
Forty seconds.
Everything slows down for me. I glance up to the balcony and there’s Jess, cheering wildly. This one’s for her. No one will stop me on the way to the other end of the rink.
My moves are too advanced for these defenders, too seasoned at knowing what angles to use to get past them. Ice chips fly around me as multiple opponents try to block my path. But it’s not happening. I leave them in the dust.
Ten seconds.
I have a clear path to the goal. I could score easily. But then I see Dax on the other side, crouched and ready to receive a pass. That guy has been by my side since day one, so it’s time to return the favor.
So, I give him one of my bullet passes, sending the puck streaking through the air.
He catches it and swings his stick immediately toward the goal. The goalie dives low, but Dax’s shot sails high and into the net as the buzzer sounds.
The fans erupt like we’ve won the championship, and Dax removes his shirt and skates around the ice like a member of the Olympic soccer team. He struggles a bit to get it off, it’s not nearly as easy to do with shoulder pads on, but he finds a way.
I look up for Jess, but she’s gone, likely on her way down to film what comes next. The job is never done. I want to wait for her, but I need to get ready. The fans aren’t going to hang out forever.
I hustle to the locker room where Gus and Mabel are waiting for me outside the door. Yep, they’re my back up. Gus wasn’t too excited to perform, but Mabel can be very persuasive, and once I said I was doing a song by a 90s boy band, she was all in.
“Ready?” I ask.
They give me a double thumbs up. I don’t need either of them falling on the ice, so I grab two chairs from the locker room and drag them to the entrance.
The guys from the team look at me like I’m crazy as I slide my Octogenarian backup singers one by one to center ice. The lights dim and the crowd goes instantly silent, all except Dax who yells, “Yeah! Thunder!” when he realizes I’m part of the show.
My teammates all move against the outer edge of the rink as the music starts. I take my place in front of Gus and Mabel, my head bowed. I know Jess is somewhere close, as well as her sister and April, but I’m not going to make it through this if I see her.
Let me be clear. I am not actually singing, nor are Gus or Mabel. This is a lip sync performance, one hundred percent. I still have a mic for effect, though, April insisted on it.
The lights go completely dark as background music for “As Long as You Love Me” by the Backstreet Boys starts to play, then a spotlight shines on the three of us. I did have to ask for a little help from our lighting technician, who was happy to be involved because there’s not much to do in this center like in the Missoula arena.
It helps I can’t see any of the crowd, allowing me to focus on the words I’m sending out to Jess. “As long as you love me …” I mouth with my head hanging low as the familiar guitar melody guides me.
When the first verse kicks off with the sound of the drums, the three of us lift our heads. Gus and Mabel join in with their signature simplified backup chair dance, which basically consists of them moving their arms side to side. The crowd goes wild, so I’m sure it looks beyond adorable. To top it off, Mabel dressed them both in Backstreet Boys t-shirts and sideways baseball caps.
As I hit the chorus, I spot the silhouettes in the crowd swaying with the rhythm, a few holding up their phones, flashlights flickering in time. I’ve tweaked a few lyrics. My purpose is to show Jess that I don’t care where I play hockey. The league, the weather, the team’s location—it doesn’t matter.
As long as she loves me, that’s all I’ll ever need.
When the song ends, I feel a rush I’ve never gotten from playing hockey. Maybe this is why Dax loves it, it’s kind of amazing.
The lights come on, and I see Jess directly across from me, face pressed against the plexiglass, phone in her hands. I turn around to thank Gus and Mabel, then motion to Troy to help get them off the ice.
As he heads their way, I skate furiously over to Jess. April and Nat are behind her in the stands with arms raised. I smile at them. I wish I could hold Jess, but I don’t want to go all the way around. Instead, I put my hands in a heart against the panel. She does the same.
“I got called back to Miami.”
“What?”
“MIAMI,” I shout. “They want me back!”
“That’s amazing!” she’s yelling too. This isn’t exactly how I planned this moment. “I’m so proud of you. When do you leave?”
“I don’t.”
She turns her ear toward me. “What?”
“I SAID I DON’T!” I really should have just gone around.
“Why?” She turns back to face me, but I motion for her ear again.
“Because you’re here. So, I’m already home.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Her head whips back and forth as she talks, then listens.
“Jess! Are you really going to argue with me after I just performed a Backstreet Boys song for you?”
“You’re right.” She whips her head around so fast this time she bumps her nose. “Ow.”
I laugh. “That takes me back to the first day you got here. What is it with you and plexiglass?”
“Apparently, we have a love-hate relationship.” She rubs her face.
“Stay right there. I’m coming to make it feel better. And Jess?”
Her gaze locks on mine, eyes full of affection. “I love you. Always and forever.”