Page 100 of From Helsinki with Love
“I promise to do my best,” I say, choking on my words. “Fuck, you made me cry.”
“Language, kid,” Paul says in a serious tone, making me chuckle before I say one more goodbye and walk out the door.
27
NO ROOM FOR BUNNIES
JASPER
Standing in front of the Peacocks Training Center next to their arena in Brooklyn the day after the trade news, it feels like the first day in a new school. At least, I know most of the team since I have played against them many times. But it’s still different because I have to make the switch from their rival to their teammate.
As I walk into the faculty, I can feel eyes following me, sensing their curiosity. They are trying to figure out how a former Woodpecker is going to help the Peacocks. I do my best to keep my head high and look confident, but deep down, I’m nervous and want to find a trash can to puke my guts out.
Inside, Felix, my old college teammate, is waiting for me with a welcoming smile. Seeing a familiar face calms my nerves instantly.
“Jasper, my man, welcome to the other side, also known as the better side,” he greets me with a hug, a hint of humor in his voice. “I’m here to show you around. I’ll introduce you to the team and the coaching staff later.”
“Thanks, Felix. I can’t believe I’m here.”
He nods in understanding. “I couldn’t believe it myself when Em called me yesterday morning after talking with you.”
“So, you still have dinner dates with her?” I ask him, knowing too well what the answer will be.
His cheeks turn red like they often do when someone mentions her. “Yeah, we try to see each other every time she’s in town.”
“That’s cool,” I tell him, thinking of ways to make them both realize what’s right in front of them. “So, how about that tour?”
Felix leads me through a maze of corridors, each filled with photos and memorabilia of the Peacocks’ history. As we walk, he fills me in on the team’s current status: one of their best defense players, a Czech called Adam Orsak, suffered a groin injury in last night’s game, and their newest recruit, Cory Ellis, is struggling to fit in. He played in the AHL, the primary developmental league for the NHL, before joining the team in early December and needs more time to adjust. Felix also mentions the two players who were traded to the Woodpeckers and how the news about the trade shocked many.
“But overall, we have a stronger team than we did last season. Now that you’ve joined, we’ll be even better,” he exclaims as he shows me the gym and all the high-quality equipment.
“That’s great to hear.”
I follow my friend around through the break rooms and therapy rooms. We talk about old times, our college days, and the future. Felix tells me more about the team, their strengths, and their weaknesses. It’s all fascinating—I have always loved knowing what’s going on behind the scenes with different teams. I listen carefully, trying to absorb every bit of information.
Finally, we reach the main training rink, where a group of players are going through their practice. Once they spot me, I hear a chorus of familiar voices calling out greetings and taunts. I can’t help but smile as I recognize the playful banter every team in the League seems to have.
“Hey, new guy! You know you’re not allowed to score on us, right?”
I turn to see Shane Donahue, the captain, and a damn good D-man, grinning at me. I laugh and give him a playful middle finger.
“Always keeping me on my toes, Papa Shane. Are you ready to lose again in the scrimmage?”
As many NHL players and fans know, Shane is the single dad of a little girl and the oldest captain in the league, hence his nickname Papa Shane. Felix has told me before that they sometimes like to call him an ‘old man,’ so I have to remember that later when we practice together.
He chuckles. “We’ll see about that, Viking. Get your skates and your ass on the ice.”
Felix signals to a figure at the other end of the rink, who waves back.
“That’s Assistant Coach MacBride,” he says. “He’s been waiting to meet you since your trade news, so let’s suit up.”
I nod and follow Felix to the locker room, where he shows me my new stall and gear. Taking the purple jersey in my hands, I turn it over, looking at my name and number on the new color.
“From this day forward, you bleed purple and silver,” Felix teases, referring to the team motto.
I nod in agreement, knowing I need to be ready to give everything I have to make this team successful. As I change into my gear, I can feel the familiar adrenaline pumping through my veins. I’m excited to be back on the ice after my suspension, playing the game that I love while being a part of something bigger than myself.
Stepping onto the ice only minutes later, I hear the sharp sound of my blades cutting through the surface. Like always, it calms my racing thoughts and allows me to feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. It’s such a comforting feeling, one that I have missed dearly during my brief hiatus.
