Page 8 of Whirlwind
“Yes, sir,” I say, shutting his office door behind me.
Stepping into a new locker room is a little like the first day of school. No matter how familiar it all is, you’re still somewhat off-balance. When you’ve played elite hockey your whole life, youget used to your teammates changing up, that’s nothing new. Every summer camp as a kid was with new guys. All-star game lineups are different each season, trades and drafts happen every year. If you can’t get accustomed to interchangeable parts, this isn’t the sport for you.
Knowing that doesn’t lessen the first-day jitters. As expected, I get some razzing when I walk in to change into my gear.
“We put your cubby next to Wylder’s, Murphy,” Axel Wallin says. “You cool with that?”
“That was my second choice of places to be,” I say.
“Where was your first?” he asks, cocking his head.
“Next to you, buddy. Heard your eyesight was going in your old age, wanted to stick close enough for you to ogle me like I know you like to do.” That gets a few laughs from the other guys. Wallin is now one of the older guys, on what is mostly a younger group of guys, on the team. I’ve known him for years; we played in the WHL together for a few seasons. Him being the first to give me some shit is his way of welcoming me.
“Whatever, Pretty Boy,” he says. “I see just fine!”
“Nice comeback, Wally.” I laugh.
“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you, dickhead.”
“You, too.”
I move to my cubby, saying hello to the guys I pass as I go. Wallin wasn’t joking; I am next to Wylder, who is already sitting there, putting his pads on.
“Tyson,” he greets me with a nod.
“Cillian,” I say back. Taking a seat, I start to unlace my tennis shoes. “How’s it going?”
“No complaints.” He doesn’t look toward me for a moment or two, but I feel his gaze when he finally does. “I’m not going to lethistory dictate our team relationship. There are no hard feelings on my end.”
“On mine, either,” I say, turning to look at him. “Honestly.”
“Good to hear, man. Sadie was a box of firecrackers when she heard the trade announcement. She’ll be at the game tomorrow and is hoping to see you.”
“Let’s make that happen. I don’t want to disappoint her,” I say. “I’ve missed her.”
“She’s missed you, too,” he says. “They both have. I’m not saying this out of misguided jealousy, more out of diplomacy. If it’s too difficult for you to be around Isla, you tell me. I’ll get you in front of Sadie Baby without her mom.”
“I…” I start to say something, then pause to consider. “I guess I didn’t expect you to be this understanding.”
“We don’t know much about each other. That’s something I’d like to see change. As captain of the team, as the husband of a woman who respects you, and as the dad of a kid who sees you as an idol,” he says. “First thing you should know about me is that I fucked my life up beyond belief and am living every day to ensure I never do anything like that again. My family is the most important thing to me, but my family extends to this team. So, it includes you now, too.”
“I respect Isla, too. She never gave me any false hope, I knew where her heart was. Her making the choice to be happy isn’t something I hold against her. Or you.”
“Good to know. Despite the rough start, you’re still one of the best in the fucking game, so I’m glad you’re here. We all are.”
“Damn right,” Blom says from a few stalls down. “Now, if you two are done fucking hugging it out like a couple of old grandmas, can we get on the ice and see how Pretty Boy plays with the rest of us when he’s wearing the same sweater?”
“I guess I got my nickname already,” I mutter.
“Could be worse,” Cillian says. “They’ve started calling Letty Fat Bottom Girl, in recent weeks.”
“Do I want to know the story behind that?”
“Probably not,” he answers with a laugh.
Practice goes as good as I could have hoped for. They throw me on a line with Letty and Wally, who are not only fast and capable, but fun, too. The lighthearted banter, the ribbing of other players, infuses the work with much-needed joy. Something I hadn’t realized I’d missed. The three of us read each other well, better than you can expect after one practice.
For the first time in a long while, I step off the ice with a sense of optimism. After a shower, I meet with the team of trainers. We met yesterday, too, after my flight arrived. They gave me a general physical then. Today, they’ll have a plan for me. And like the pro I am, I’ll execute it all without complaint. At least, to them. My dad is the one who hears that side of me. He says it’s his job, since he’s the one that encouraged me to start playing at the age of four.
