Chapter 20 #2
“It’s like D-Vo said, you’re one guy.” Cunningham stretches his legs out, looking ready to ditch his pads.
“We all have a part to play, but when it comes to leadership, you’re steady.
All the guys on the team see it. That’s why we voted for you.
” He grins. “Despite what you think, we didn’t make you captain so you could shoulder all the responsibility and blame alone. ”
I guess he’d know. As a goalie, he gets more than his fair share of shit.
“Lindy’s right,” Schultz adds. “We’ve all suffered shit captains, guys who laid blame for losses, guys who didn’t give a fuck about helping younger players develop out of fear they’d be displaced, but that’s not you, St. James.
You’re always helping the younger guys out, giving them tips at practice and talking them up. ”
Except McGinnis.
That’s going to change, starting today.
I scrub a hand over my face. “I guess I just feel like I should be doing more, you know?”
“I feel the same way every time we give up a goal,” MacKenzie admits. “I know it’s not realistic to think I can stop them all, but tell it to my brain.”
Doyle shrugs. “I think everybody feels that way, but we’ve all been conditioned not to say the quiet part out loud.”
“That’s a great insight,” Ava says, a gorgeous smile curing her perfect lips.
“In our society, athletes and men in general have been encouraged to “suck it up,” but that’s a toxic mindset.
Talking about your feelings, whether it’s with me, Dr. Banks, or each other, is far healthier than keeping things bottled up. ”
We continue to work our way around the room, and listening to my teammates, it’s clear I’m not the only one who feels responsible for the team’s poor performance.
It sucks to know these guys are struggling with some of the same issues I am, but it also helps to know I’m not alone, and that maybe I never was.
Now if I could just figure out how to make things work between Ava and I without completely destroying my relationship with Coach.
AVA
I can’t believe this is actually working. I mean, the exercise is popular for a reason, but trying to get through to these guys has been like bashing my head against a brick wall and now all of a sudden, after a few tears, they’re just laying it all out there?
Are you really surprised?
Now that I’m thinking about it, both my father and Knox have proven to be protective, so maybe it’s just in the hockey player DNA.
Either way, I’m not going to complain. Not when things are finally going my way.
Despite the rocky start to the evening—and Fedorov’s fists of fury—this discussion could be the turning point we need. The guys on the team are finally connecting on a deeper level, and that’s always a good thing.
Most of the fears were anonymous, but a few were identifiable, like Knox’s. I’m really proud of him for being that vulnerable. McGinnis too.
It couldn’t have been easy to admit he was afraid of being judged poorly by the men he grew up cheering for.
In the eyes of the law, he’s a grown man, but a lot of guys his age are still in college or living at home with their parents.
It’s a lot of pressure being on his own and playing in the NHL considering his prefrontal cortex isn’t even fully formed yet.
There’s only one slip of paper left in the bag as I hold it out to Cunningham. Beside him, Davis’s leg is bouncing a mile a minute. He’s been jittery all evening and hasn’t said much, which isn’t unusual, but…
“I’m worried my time in the NHL is going to end with a team where I don’t belong instead of on the team where I spent my entire career, and it’s disheartening.”
The Gliders are an expansion team, so there are any number of guys who could’ve written the note, but I know in my gut it’s Kristiansen. He was a last-minute pickup prior to the start of the season, and he’s only been with the team for a few weeks.
Paired with tonight’s on-ice fight, it’s a no-brainer.
“Uncertainty can be difficult to manage, especially when it feels like you have no control and you’re grieving the loss of the future you envisioned,” I say, watching to see how the rest of the team responds.
Graves snorts. “Come on, Kristiansen. Do you really expect us to feel sorry for you when it’s obvious you don’t give a fuck?”
“I didn’t ask for your pity,” he says through gritted teeth. “I was simply writing my truth, just like the rest of you.”
“It sucks that the Rangers put you on waivers,” Knox says, ever the diplomat. “It’s every player’s worst fear, but you’re here now, why not make the most of it?”
That’s the real question. The one that gets to the heart of the matter.
Kristiansen goes rigid and a muscle in his jaw tics.
“I played my whole career in New York. I was loyal and productive, and none of this was supposed to happen.” He shakes his head.
“When the Rangers waived me, I was told it was only a temporary move, for the salary cap. They said no one was going to claim me because teams like to give their own guys a chance coming out of training camp. So imagine my surprise when I got the call and learned I had forty-eight hours to get my ass to Atlanta.”
“That was one hell of a gamble,” D-Vo says, looking sympathetic.
“Tell me about it.” Kristiansen huffs out a breath. “So you’ll excuse me if I have a chip on my shoulder. Last year wasn’t a great year for me personally, and getting waived and claimed by Atlanta like hired muscle didn’t exactly sit right.”
“Hired muscle.” Fedorov all but spits the words. “It seems they misjudged you.”
“You’re goddamn right,” Kristiansen shoots back, dropping his ice pack on the seat next to him. “I’ve worked my ass off to become more than just an enforcer, and I won’t have my skill reduced to how hard I can throw a punch.”
Knox leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You got served a shit sandwich. There’s no denying it. I’d be pissed too if I was in your skates, but if Coach thought your only value was in keeping the opposition in check, he wouldn’t have put you on the second line.”
“Yeah,” Doyle says, smirking. “If he just wanted you to mess some guys up, you’d be on the fourth line with Graves.”
If Doyle’s expecting a reaction from the winger, he doesn’t get it. Graves simply shrugs, nonplussed. “I know my role on this team, and I’m perfectly happy with it.”
I can’t fault his logic. He may not be a star player, but he’s getting paid to play a game he loves, and real talk? You don’t get a nickname like The Reaper unless you take obvious pleasure in your work.
“I guess what I’m saying is, I should’ve been more welcoming these last few weeks,” Knox says, clasping his hands together.
“It couldn’t have been an easy transition, and our style of play is much different from the Rangers, but after the hit you put on Davis last year, I guess I was a little wary. ”
“That was an accident.” Kristiansen’s voice is low and wrought with tension. “I apologized to Davis. More than once. If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t.”
“Hey,” Davis says, looking up for the first time. “We’re good, man.”
“Is that why you’re holding back?” McGinnis asks. His face is open, and he sounds sincere, but I’m not naive enough to think I’ve got the full picture when it comes to team dynamics. Not yet, anyway. “Are you afraid of hurting someone else?”
I make a mental note to look into the incident McGinnis referenced. It would be helpful to know what went down between Davis and Kristiansen in case it comes up again.
“I’m not holding back,” Kristiansen says, doubling down.
“All the same, I’d rather have you playing with us than against us.” McGinnis grins. “I’d love to play a more physical game, but it’s not something I was taught growing up.”
Not encouraged is more likely.
Kristiansen grunts. “I could probably teach you a few things after practice next week. At the very least, then you can defend yourself.”
“For real?” Kristiansen nods and McGinnis’s face lights up. “I knew I liked you.”
I scan the room, taking in all the tired faces. This was a good night. We made real progress.
“Great work tonight,” I say to the group. “The game didn’t go the way we wanted, but what you did here, in this room, is far more meaningful. If we can get this part right, the wins will follow.”
There are a few whoops, but these guys are exhausted and I can’t blame them for struggling to muster the energy for a rallying cry.
“I’ll get out of your hair so you can hit the showers, and I’ll see you all at practice on Monday.”
I say my goodbyes, and the guys begin the process of stripping off their gear, but before I can duck out, Knox approaches, his brilliant blue eyes brimming with hope.
“Does this mean you’re staying?”
It’s the million-dollar question. We made progress today, but that doesn’t mean things are going to be picture-perfect next week. We still have a lot of work to do and a long season ahead of us, which I guess answers the question.
“I’m going to stay.” I smile up at him, confident in my decision. “I think this team needs me just as much as I need them.”
With any luck, we’ll both find the success we’re looking for.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I offer Knox the empty toiletry bag. He shakes his head vehemently. “You can keep it.”
I roll my eyes. “Not you too.”
“You said it yourself. We’re a superstitious group.” He grins, but his voice is low when he speaks. “Are you going to be around for a while? Can I walk you to your car?”
My gaze slides to Davis, who still looks like he’s about to crawl out of his skin. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of before I call it a night.”
Knox follows my line of sight. “Take your time. I need to shower anyway.”
He returns to his stall, and I approach Davis. I typically prefer to speak with athletes one-on-one, even if it’s just to set up an appointment, but the locker room is noisy and no one is paying us any attention.
“Hey, Ollie.” I keep my voice low, my tone soft and breezy. “You were pretty quiet tonight. How are things going?”
He makes no move to get up, just stares up at me like a cornered animal, his knee bouncing frantically. “Everything’s fine.”
It’s so not fine. His body language is screaming the exact opposite, but I need to keep this light, so I offer him a reassuring smile. “Good. If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.”
His knee stops bouncing with what I suspect is Herculean effort. “I…I appreciate the offer, but like I said, I’m fine.”
I don’t know what’s up with him—maybe nothing—but I’m going to keep an eye out just the same. I haven’t forgotten about the anonymous snowball message, and if there’s someone on this team in distress, I want to get them the help they need.
“I’m glad to hear it, but if you change your mind, I’m always available.” I touch his biceps, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just say the word.”
“Thanks, Ava.” He stands suddenly and pulls off his shoulder pads, not meeting my eyes. “I’d better hit the showers. It’s been a long night.”
I watch him go, still mostly dressed, and my gut clenches with apprehension.