Page 32 of Safety Net
I looked for myself on screen, noting posture and position. This game had been against the Amber Titans. A decent team that consistently ranked somewhere near us during the season but could never quite get past the first round of playoffs until last year, when we weren’t in them.
Besides a few scratches on the paper, it was quiet as we watched. Anthony paused after the video was a quarter of the way through.
“Okay, what have we got so far?” he asked.
I chewed on my inner cheek and tried to hide my blank page by pulling the notepad to my chest. They waited for me, and I waited for them. The standoff wasn’t too long before Henrik raised his hand. Anthony shook his head and pointed to me.
“Uh…” I sat up straight, understanding I wasn’t getting off easy. “So many things.”
“Name one,” Anthony challenged.
“Well, I’m pretty lazy,” I said. “Let my guard down when I thought I was in the clear. I follow the players, not the pucks, most of the time. I butterfly slide far too much for it to make sense…are you going to stop me on one thing or are we tackling them all?”
Anthony smiled. Genuinely smiled at me. And I may have sensed a bit of shock and pride. The approval sent a surprising sense of joy through my body.
“So, you are self-aware,” Anthony said. “You just choose to lack common sense. Got you.”
And joy faded. It was nice to get a taste, even if only for a moment.
“This is a good thing,” Anthony assured. “It means I can work with you. If you work with me.”
“I thought that’s what we were doing,” I said.
“Everyone gets a trial period, Lincoln. You’re still in yours,” he said. “Now, let’s keep going. Henrik? What have you got for me?”
Hen looked down at his page. I whistled at how it was almost entirely covered in notes. This may be even more grueling than being on the ice.
We spend two hours dissecting every move I made over the course of three different games, from three different points in the season. Henrik and Anthony were high-energy and detailed. I tried to keep up, head spinning as I took note of whatever problem they pointed out and then whatever solution they suggested. By the end of it, I was so tired that even the thought of glancing at the goal at the end of it made my head hurt.
“He’s good,” Henrik said on our way out. “I think this could be a real turning point for you.”
“Yeah…” My brain was basically mush.
“Lincoln?” He waved his hand in front of my face. “You okay?”
“Better now.” I let out a breath. “That was a lot.”
“But necessary.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Come on.” His smile faded when he realized I wasn’t joking. “Are you serious? Wait, no, don’t answer that. You’re not. Why would I think otherwise?”
“I’m not good with that much data in one go.”
“I get that,” he said, empathizing a little. “But come on, you’re getting personalized feedback…if you don’t want that, why ask him to stick around?”
When I didn’t respond, Henrik asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” My uncertainty about my capability flashed on my face. It was only for a split second, but Henrik knew precisely how to catch it before it disappeared. “I just have some prep to do for our first rehearsals.”
“Right.” Henrik didn’t sound convinced.
“Some of which you agreed to help with,” I reminded him.
He laughed. “I know, I know. But are you sure you’re ready to take more notes?”
“Never been more ready,” I promised because this time, it’d be for fun. And it’d be for Celeste.
