Page 5 of Not A Chance

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Emery

Good luck on your first day, eh?

Getting called into Coach’s office after practice was never a good sign. I couldn’t think of one good moment in my thirteen-year career in the NHL that was preceded by a meeting within these four walls.

It was even worse to see the GM in the meeting, sitting in one of the two guest chairs. It usually meant one of two things, and my reputation was spotless, so I knew I wasn’t in trouble.

I knew how to keep any unwise decisions under wraps. And since I was out of my twenties, my life was far too routine compared to my younger teammates.

The only other thing it could be was something I’d managed to avoid by being one of the most in-demand goalies in the league. They’d traded me.

I closed the door behind me with a soft click and resigned myself to the conversation about to unfold.

I had one year left in my contract, so while it wasn’t impossible, I had really thought that I’d be one of the rare players to make itthrough my whole career playing for the same team.

My body was ready to retire, not that I had let anyone on the team or the organization’s staff know that.

Coach allowed me to get settled in my seat, always content to let us settle into tough conversations. He gave me a nod in greeting.

“Theo. Thanks for coming in. I know it was a rough one this afternoon, so I’m sure you’re eager to head home.”

Not particularly. The only thing that waited in my condo was a kick-ass view and a fridge with questionable takeout and some expired condiments.

And a severe case of “what’s next?” because you know your knees can’t take much more. This is what you get for pushing everyone and everything away for hockey all these years.

The GM, Marco DeLuca, however, did not seem to share the same laid-back approach. He was newer to the team, having been hired the season before. He’d seemed fair in my experience with him, if a bit abrupt in his delivery. He chose to cut to the chase.

“Theo, listen. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it. You’ve been traded to Toronto.”

Even knowing such news was coming, my body still rocked back as if his words were a physical blow. It was like having a bench press with too many weights dropped onto my chest. I struggled under the weight of a decision that changed my whole life without any input from me.

Shit. If this is what being traded felt like, having years of contributions to an organization washed away with a few words, then I’d been an asshole all these years to not lend more support to teammates who experienced this situation throughout their careers.

We’d been so close to winning the Stanley Cup last year. The hunger in my teammates’ eyes told me that this was going to be theseason it happened for the Frost, and I would be thousands of miles away playing for strangers.

Winning the Cup wasn’t the reason I played hockey, but I’d be lying if I didn’t hold some deep belief that achieving the pinnacle of hockey success wouldn’t validate my choices all these years.

I was going to Toronto. The destination didn’t really matter other than being across the fucking country, which put me even further from my family, who I already didn’t see often enough.

DeLuca didn’t give me any more time to process the bomb he’d dropped in my lap before he barreled on while Coach watched me carefully.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this. The higher-ups are looking ahead with a specific vision for the team, and it’s my job to make that happen. I’m sorry.”

I’d yet to speak in this meeting. I cleared my throat and forced the words out of my mouth.

“Thanks, Marco, I understand.” That was it. That was all I could give him. We didn’t have any history together. It was just business, and I was an asset to move around as they pleased.

I guess I’d just been lucky so far. My thoughts turned sour. It hurt to think about being a line on a salary cap spreadsheet. This team had been my whole life since the day I’d left home.

Yeah? And what do you have to show for it other than a bunch of zeros in your bank account? Does a full bank account and an empty condo make a life?

He walked toward the office door, clapping my shoulder lightly as he passed my chair.

“I truly appreciate your dedication to this team, Theo. The younger guys have had an excellent role model all these years. Just know you’ll be missed, eh?”

I’m sure he meant those words, but he hadn’t been here to really see what I had given to this team every day for years. Marcus only knew what had been written about me before he took over. He took my nod of acknowledgment as a goodbye and closed the door behind him.

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