Page 30 of The Game Changer

“How are you holding up, JC?” she asks as he slides his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. I give him a quick squeeze, just letting him know I’m here for him to lean on whenever he needs me.

“I’m doing okay. Actually, being in here has my spirits up. It’s hard to be down when there is so much anticipation and excitement in the air.”

“That’s great. I hope they pull out the win. Beckett was feeling the pressure to get that win under him to start the season off on the right foot.”

“I’m sure he’ll kick ass, he’s a solid goal tender and he’s got one hell of a coach in his corner,” John tells her. Not only referring to her fiancé, but her dad, since he’s the goalie coach for the organization.

“Sounds like we should take our seats!” I say to both. The announcer just stated who is singing the national anthem for tonight’s game. We make our way down to the seats that are behind large walls of glass. We find three seats together just in time to stand for the anthem to start.

As soon as the singing is done, the ice is cleared. I watch as the players skate around, shaking out limbs of what I can only imagine is pre-game jitters. Even for the most seasoned players, I imagine that the first game of a new season is like a high. New beginnings. A new title to contend and fight for. Once the ceremonial puck is dropped, the game is finally underway. I watch as the guys expertly move up and down the ice. I’ve attended a handful of games over the years with Julia and her family, but for some reason, this game, I’m seeing things with a new light. Maybe it’s because I have John next to me giving me his insight on each play that the guys run, telling me what is going correctly and what’s going wrong.

“I know I don’t know much about all that is going on down there on the ice, but everything you’re telling me sounds like important things the coaches down on the bench would want to know. Are there any positions that look at that kind of thing and feed it to the coaches down on the bench? Even if it isn’t actually during the game, but things that they can work on during practice?”

“There are coaches who focus on every aspect of the game. They use the tapes from the game to break things down to show the guys all of that.”

“You’d be good at that,” I tell him.

“I think it just comes with the experience. Most guys could sit up here and watch what is happening on the ice and tell you if it’s good or bad. We’ve got these plays so ingrained that we could practically run them blindfolded and in our sleep. There are just so many variables that can mess up a play, so it’s hard to be ready for every possible outcome,” he tells me as the goal horn blows. I look out and see the crowd on its feet, cheering loud as the guys on the ice all come together in a little huddle. I watch the big screen for the replay video as I missed the goal talking to John. He walks me through why the play worked, how they were able to pull the defenders out and slip past them to put the puck in the back of the net in what looked like such an easy maneuver.

“That was a sweet goal!” I tell him, watching it one last time on the screens.

“It sure was, will probably make the highlight reel tonight on the NHL Network.”

* * *

“Good game, man!” JC calls out to Beckett as they pull one another into a man-hug, slapping each other’s backs. We followed Julia down to the lower level of the arena once the game was over so that John could congratulate the guys on their home opener win over Edmonton. They held their own out on the ice, skating to an easy four to one win.

“Thanks, it was a good one,” Beckett tells us as he pulls Julia into his side, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Sötnos,” I hear him whisper against her lips before they pull away from one another. I love all his little Swedish terms he’s used on her and I know she loves it when he calls her that.

“Missed you out on the ice and in the locker room,” Beckett tells John.

“It was definitely weird not being out there today,” John admits.

“JC!” A few other guys call out to him as they exit the locker room, waving in our direction as they’re greeted by waiting family members. I observe as he waves back, watching his demeanor to make sure this all isn’t too much for him tonight.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” he asks.

“If you are.” I smile up at him.

“I am,” he says, and I can tell with those two words that he’s going to be okay.

“Then let’s go,” I tell him, squeezing his fingers. He returns the motion as I turn to say goodnight to Julia and Beckett before we head out and head back to his place.

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