Page 100 of Untouchable Player

“You’ll have some time to think about it of course Jesse,” Coach jumps in.

“Of course,” Colin agrees.

I shake his hand again and Coach tells me to wait there while he shows him out.

When he comes back in, he closes the door behind him and stands at the edge of his desk.

“So, what do you think?”

“I don’t know, what do you think?”

“I thought you were serious about coaching?”

“I am, but…”

“it’s not playing, I know…”

“no, it’s not that, yeah I guess I’d like to play in the NHL one day…”

“you guess?”

I shrug. “It’s not competing that I love, it’s… being here,” I look around Coach’s cramped office. The whiteboard with the rink drawn in Sharpie with Coach’s tactics scribbled all over it.

“Do you think I need to play professionally first before I can coach?”

“No, not necessarily, I think your experience here will probably be enough, and honestly, playing doesn’t really prepare you for coaching. Not every player has it in him to be a coach.”

“If I turn down an offer to play pro…” I start and then stop.

“What?”

“My dad.”

Coach watches me, waiting for more.Argh,why the fuck do people make me talk about things?

“He thinks you should sacrifice anything to play pro. If I have to brawl for three month contracts in the ECHL in the south, then that’s what you do, no matter how slim your chances of getting into the NHL. While you’re playing pro, even if it’s minor league, even if its junior league, you’ve still got a shot, but once you’re out, you’re out.”

Coach pulls up the chair Colin had been sitting in and faces me, “listen to me Jesse, if you go to North Carolina, that’s exactly what they want you to be - a brawler. And in three months’ time, they might cut you loose, or they might not. But you’ll probably move around a lot, and the chances of you moving up are slim, but not impossible. Plenty of guys have done it.”

“More talented than me though right?”

“No, not necessarily. Jesse, you have to think about what you reallywant. Do you want to play in the NHL?”

“Yeah.”

“More than anything?”

I swallow, shake my head.

“I’m lazy,” I say, repeating what my dad has told me hundreds of times. My voice is stupidly quiet and my face flushes.

“It’s not lazy, I’ve seen lazy and you’re not it. Lazy doesn’t win you a starting place on my team three years in a row, trust me. It takes a special kind of crazy to make the major leagues. Maybe you’re just sane like 99% of the rest of the population.”

Coach grins at me and I force a smile.

“What if I regret it?”

“You might. But they want you soon Jesse, that means not graduating. Can you afford to pay for your own education a year down the line?”

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