Page 14 of The Game She Hates

Tyler’s smile widens. “I don’t see it as a sacrifice. Hockey has never been an idol for me; it’s been a profession, for a season of my life. My primary purpose is to be a godly husband and father to my kids. Whatever profession I have serves my family first and foremost. Now, with all the kiddos we have and my wife homeschooling, hockey is pulling me away from the people I love most. But that’s just my story. Even those who cling to hockey into their forties eventually have to hang up their skates. Then what?”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. At twenty-eight, the thought of life after hockey had never crossed my mind. Maybe because I loathed my life before hockey—this life is the only good life I know.

“I’ve never even considered not playing.”

“You don’t have to completely stop. You can coach, play with your kids. But professionally, it’s just for a season. It’s good to think about life after this once in a while.”

I chuckle in disbelief.

“You don’t plan on having any kids?”

“I’m not sure. I had a really awful dad.”

“You never know what’s in store for you. Both my wife and I didn’t come from stable backgrounds, but encountering the love of Jesus changed everything for us. Our lives now are like night and day compared to how we grew up. Your past doesn’t have to define your future, especially when you accept Christ as your Lord and Savior. It’s like becoming a whole new person, and the change is reflected everywhere, even within the dynamics of your family.”

Talking to Tyler is always pleasant until his words start feeling like they’re in a different language, one I struggle to understand, especially when he brings religion into the conversation. I admire how he credits his faith for his success, but the idea that it could be anyone’s story if they wanted never fails to baffle me.

“Hey, guys. Everyone’s going home. I wanted to say a little prayer before tomorrow’s game,” Lacey announces from the door. I’m grateful for the interruption, as I have nothing to add to Tyler’s last words.

I quickly make my way out, and Lacey leads us in a prayer for safety and success in the game, and for our opponents to know Jesus through playing with us.

After we exchange goodbyes and head home, I find myself pondering what it would be like to have the same faith Tyler’s family has and live for something bigger than myself. Something that illuminates even the darkest corners of my life with an inextinguishable hope.

12

Pearl Davis

Boy, was I wrong about this bridesmaids meeting. I thought the hardest thing about joining the girls today would be enduring endless chatter about how Kate met Duke and their impending happily-ever-after. I even said a little prayer before coming here, to maintain a cheerful spirit. Little did I know that everyone would be so focused on watching the Glaciers and Falcons game.

If I had known it was going to turn into a hockey night, I would’ve gladly opted for a cozy evening alone in my apartment. Of course, Robyn had the perfect excuse to skip out on this meeting with her coveted ticket to the game. The way she flashed that ticket at me, it was clear she’d miss the Glaciers game when pigs fly. If only I had a similarly convincing excuse. Unfortunately, I’m known for never bailing on anything, and Kate would’ve undoubtedly pulled out all the stops to ensure I show up.

Summoning a burst of courage, I make another attempt to divert their attention. The small living room is packed with Becky, Sarah, and Lydia, all from our church and part of the worship team, along with Nadine, who’s Kate’s cousin and roommate, also seated on the carpet. Stepping in, I observe their faces, glued to the TV screen, completely absorbed in the game. Sarah and Becky react with animated gestures at different points of the game, while Kate gasps in disbelief, exclaiming “that was a close call” each time. Nadine is passionately shouting at what I assume is the opposing team. It’s only then that I notice Lydia’s jersey—it has “Ortiz” written at the top with the number 12 in bold white font. Could that be Zane’s number? The chances of it being another player with the same last name seem slim.

A twinge of tension grips me, though I can’t quite pinpoint why. Robyn already filled me in about Zane’s status as one of the best players, with a legion of devoted fans—many of them women who are utterly infatuated with him.

I hope Lydia is simply wearing his jersey for admiration of his skills on the ice.

I gaze at the screen and try to spot him amidst the flurry of players darting across the ice at lightning speed. Is this even safe? The way they move seems almost unreal. I’ve never set foot on ice, let alone attempted skating at that speed; the thought of sharp blades beneath my feet sends shivers down my spine. I’ve always been a practical footwear kind of girl. I never stray beyond a 2-inch heel for safety’s sake.

“So, is the game almost finished?” I interject, breaking the silence, and all eyes turn to me.

“Do you really hate hockey?” Kate asks in disbelief.

“I never said I hated it.” It’s funny how people always assume that if you’re not into a sport they love, it means you must hate it.

“Well, we heard Robs say something like that,” the girls tease.

“I’ve just never been into any sports.”

“How can you not enjoy this?” Lydia asks. Something about the fact that she is wearing a jersey with Zane’s name on it gives me the itch.

Why do I always feel possessive over men who aren’t even mine? First Duke, and now Zane. Something is seriously wrong with me because I don’t even like Zane at all. He gives me the itch too.

“It’s too violent and way too fast-paced for me. I don’t know what’s happening,” I deadpan.

“Well, if we’re being honest, I only care about two things: Zane Ortiz and for the Glaciers to win. So, I’m really not paying attention to everything else that’s happening either,” Lydia admits.

My stomach churns at the mention of Zane’s name.

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