Page 97 of Delayed Offsides

Same boys, different year.

You know what really bothers me about being back on the ice? Not Walker, not fighting for my spot. It’s this. Being around these guys. The idea of possibly being traded terrifies me. I don’t want to leave Chicago, especially since Caleb was born. I want to raise him here with Callie, where we met.

* * *

Game 4 – Boston Bruins

United Center

October

Once the season begins,we’re back to playing jokes on the rookies and the new guy. Walker. I don’t care that he used to play for Chicago. He’s a newbie as far as I’m concerned. I will say Ryan is glad we’ve moved on from him finally and is now willing to help us out.

My plan for Walker came when I was able to contact a local radio station. Had them set up a fake “win a date with a Blackhawk” and told Walker he was the selected Blackhawk. He seemed to think this was some kind of honor, like he was actually “selected” by a group of chicks.

Stupid fucker. He was a rookie once. You’d think warning bells would have gone off, but nope.

So the date. This is where Rosco comes back into the pranks. We had him show up at the restaurant Walker is supposed to meet his date. Only we have him wear a wig, a red dress, and heels.

It’s classic if you ask me.

So when Walker shows up for the game tonight, he isn’t pleased. In fact, he’s pissed. Look at him all red-faced and angry.

He shoves into Mase and Remy, who are standing beside me as we get ready for the game. “I know you two were behind that!”

Walker and I will never get along. Can’t sit next to each other on the bench and certainly can’t play the same line. Given we play the same position, us on the same line will never happen.

Laughing, I right myself, square my shoulders, and face him head-on. “Oh,Walky, it’s all in good fun.”

“Walky?” he mouths, clearly not pleased with his new nickname.

“Leave that poor bum alone,” O’Brien barks, throwing a newspaper at me with the headlines that read:

BLACKHAWKS GIVE BACK TO COMMUNITY.

Below is a picture of Rosco in a red dress.

“Hey, we got that guy a job and a place to live. He’s not a bum,” I defend. “Like they said. We’re giving back to the community.”

Coach rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t mean you can torment the bastard.”

I blow him off, turning to Mase. “He loves it.” I lower my voice. “I think he should pay a visit to O’Brien next.”

Mase laughs. “Now, there’s an idea.”

O’Brien claps his hands together. “Game time, boys.”

During warmups, I see Callie standing near the glass with Caleb. His first game.

He’s wearing a little Orting jersey. His eyes closed to the chaos around him. At least he’s not crying.

I skate by, throwing my right shoulder into the glass. When I pass by her, I look back and wink.

She grins. You wanna know something shitty?

I still haven’t told her I love her. I know, you think I’m a dick. But when you’ve never said it, it’s hard to form the words and know when to say them. Is it supposed to be long and drawn out? Do I give a speech and tell her how pathetic I am for not telling her sooner?

I’m asking because I don’t know, so if there’s any advice you’d like to hand out, I’m gonna need it.

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