Page 3 of From Fling to Ring

Rake and Jonas eventually lose interest in the Chuck-Daphne spectacle, and get back to discussing Rake’s knee injury from last season, and how the sports press is looking for something, anything to indicate ‘he’s just not coming back from that nasty ACL tear, and isn’t it a shame.’

We all have our supporters and detractors. It comes with the territory.

I’m not planning on staying long at tonight’s gathering, and in fact, hope I can sneak out unnoticed after a respectable amount of time. I was something of a lazy fuck in the off season, and only just got back to my heavy-duty weight workout. Today I am paying the price like the idiot I am and am sore to the ends of my fingernails, it feels like. I’ve been sucking down ibuprofen all day and want nothing more than a little soak in my hot tub and to relax in front of the TV with my feet up, switching between sports shows, maybe throwing in a little porn before calling it a night.

But that’s going to have to wait, because the owner hasn’t taken the mic yet to kick off his welcome speech. In fact, it looks like he’s only just now arriving. The front doors of the restaurant have opened wide and the crowd has parted to let someone through. He’s a short guy, the owner, so I can only see the top of his bald head, but there’s no doubt it’s him. And if he follows his usual practice, he’ll make the rounds, say hello to everyone, then take center stage. This all means I’m here for at least another hour.

I snatch a skewer of satay from the tray of a passing server. It looks more promising than the shrimp.

“Hey, anybody want another beer?” I ask, downing the last of my Singha.

Rake and Jonas, now discussing the knee injury of a player on an opposing team, nod and show me their bottles.

Right. One Singha, one Stella, and one IPA.

I edge my way up to the bar, saying hi to folks I haven’t seen in a while with plenty of fist bumps and back slaps, and just before I can wave the bartender over, I run smack into Daphne.

Or was it she who ran into me?

“Hey Daph,” I say.

Then Chuck, who I also didn’t see coming, appears at my elbow. “You guys know each other?” he asks, looking between the two of us with a confused expression.

She looks up at me, eyes wide, waiting to see how I’m going to handle the situation.

“Oh, yeah, we do. Hey, anyone need a drink?” I ask, waving frantically for the bartender.

“I’ll have another martini, Ty,” Daphne says in her heavy Eastern European accent.

Now Chuck is really confused by our familiarity, but I lean over the bar and start ordering drinks before he can ask me anything else.

I hand Chuck Daphne’s martini. “Dude, your beard is looking great. You’re gonna fit in just fine,” I call to him, inching back through the crowd with the three beers I set out to get.

He runs his hand over his early-stage facial hair, having bought into the team tradition of growing beards for the season.

“Shit, Chuck knows that Daph and I know each other,” I say when I reach Rake and Jonas.

Rake frowns. “What’s the big deal? Just tell him you dated her. He’ll eventually find out and it’s better for him to hear it from you.”

I’m not one for difficult conversations, even though Daphne gave me a book with that exact title.

“I don’t know. I guess. It’s awkward, man. Why do people do this?”

Jonas looks at his phone like he does about a hundred times a day. He has two little ones at home and even when he’s not with them, he follows their schedule with regular check-ins with the nanny. “They do this, Ty, because people love hockey and women love hockey players.” He tosses his head back and laughs at his joke.

I scoff. “They don’t all love us. I can assure you of that.”

“Look, Ty, don’t be so sore Daphne’s made off with another player. Hell, maybe something’ll come of it, at least outside the bedroom. They could turn into a real couple, unlike what you were able to accomplish,” he adds.

“Whatever,” I grouse, looking around for the team owner. Dammit, he still hasn’t even gotten close to the podium to give his speech. I’ll never get out of here at a decent hour. “And by the way, I’m not sore.”

“Nor should you be. Look, it never would have lasted, even if you were into her.”

“Yeah, Ty,” Rake says. “When was the last time you dated anyone for any length of time? It’s just not your thing. Be happy for the woman. She moved on and found a new guy. You never would have stuck with her. You never stick with anyone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, I don’t stick with anyone?”

Jonas and Rake look at each other as the team owner taps the mic for everyone’s attention.

---