Page 120 of More Than Chemical
There he was, sitting with a court employee, holding a piece of paper, his arms fidgety. I turned right back around.
“What is he doing here?” I whispered to Eric.
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That he’s making a victim-impact statement.”
“A what?” I asked.
“Since he was a victim of the conspiracy, he gets to make a statement to the judge expressing the impact of the crime on him and how severe he thinks the punishment should be.”
I took in a small breath, turned back around, and shielded my eyes with my hand. “And he told you this when?”
“He called me yesterday. And guess what? He’s in talks with the NCAA.”
My eyebrows squeezed together. “But Plunkett never said anything about having submitted the reinstatement.”
“Apparently, he did. Early this week.”
“Did you know?”
“No. He must have taken us out of the equation.”
I ground my teeth. Did he ever.
The judge entered. We all stood and sat back down again. There was talking, but I didn’t pay attention. I was trying to organize the thoughts in my brain.
“Mr. Reynolds.” The judge spoke loudly. “You may approach now.”
Dallas walked up the aisle to the podium facing the bench and rested his piece of paper on it. I clenched my jaw, wanting to hear what he had to say, but at the same time wishing I couldn’t.
When he started to speak, his voice was cool, calm, confident. “Your Honor, when Coach Bianchini first spoke with me about playing hockey for him, I could never have imagined that I would be in front of you like this today.”
He stopped and took a gulp of air.
“When I found out about the windfall that would come my way if I signed with Coach Bianchini, it seemed like a miracle, an answer to my family’s financial prayers. Without a second thought, I took it. Deep down, I knew that it was wrong, but I did it anyway. It’s unfortunate that I lost my NCAA eligibility because of one poor, reckless decision. I believe we must all accept responsibility for our actions, so I accepted my punishment. And it was a big one. Hockey is the thing I know how to do best. So I am happy to say that after almost a year of not playing and because I am no longer in violation, I’ve been given a second chance, and a request for my reinstatement has been made with the NCAA and is pending acceptance.”
Eric nudged me, and I shifted away from him.
“My point is that Coach Bianchini needs to accept responsibility for his actions and serve out his punishment too. But that punishment need not be so severe as to be unreasonably harmful. We are human. We all make mistakes.”
The tightness in my chest released, and I exhaled the air I’d been holding in my lungs. I should have known that Dallas would be reasonable and thoughtful.
I paused.
Because he was, wasn’t he? Thoughtful. Rational. Logical.
“Through all of this, there is one regret I do have,” he continued.
He turned his head and looked at me.
My stomach tightened.
“I wish I had been honest with the people I care about. For hurting them, I am truly sorry.” Dallas looked back at his sheet of paper. It fluttered in his hands. “Going through this has shown me that if you’re doing something you feel the need to keep secret, or that someone asks you to keep secret, you shouldn’t be doing it. Keeping my secrets hurt not only myself, but also the people who are special to me. And while I wish my experience with Coach Bianchini hadn’t turned out the way it did, I’m also thankful to have learned something important from it. That doing what you love and loving someone you’re with includes being truthful about it. Rather than being locked away, I hope that Coach Bianchini will have the opportunity to atone for his actions in other ways and do better in the future. I know I will. Thank you. That’s all I have.”
He stepped away from the podium.
