From:[email protected]
CC:
BCC:
Subject:Long time
It’s been a while, Ral. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find you and even more time thinking about you. I believe we have some things to discuss. Give me a call. 612-555-4590
You look great, by the way.
-Barrett
“Go to hell,” I mutter, checking the box next to his email.
Mark as spam.
Report phishing.
Block sender.
Delete.
Delete from trash.
SIXTEEN
She’s ignoring me. I’ve sent half a dozen emails with read receipts. She read the first one. The rest have been unopened, which makes me think she put me on a block list. She wants to play games? I’ll lace up my fucking skates.
She and I have unfinished business. After searching for five years, there’s no way in hell I’m leaving without a fight. I’ll fight her for another five with a smile on my face.
I considered emailing her boss, but it occurs to me she probably manages his inbox too.
Me: Hey. I need you to send an email to Rob Waters at Method Marketing. Set up a meeting this week to discuss the summer hockey camp—don’t mention my name. Put something together for a possible partnership or sponsor thing. It’s has to be with Rob, no one else.
Sully: You think this is a good idea?
Me: I’m calling in my favor.
Sully: K. I take it you’re going to want to join in the meeting.
Me: Oh, I’ll be there.
Sully: Just be careful, man. It’s been a long time. A lot’s changed.
Yeah… like I might be a dad.
SEVENTEEN
“All right, everybody, line up!” I shout. “We’re going to do some stick-handling exercises.”
Today I’m a guest coach for one of the Title I school hockey teams in the metro. I like coaching kids. Which is why I started Camp Conway. Families and local teams can apply, we supply gear, one-on-one lessons, coaching, and discounted or free ice time at their local arenas.
Everyone should have access to hockey, but it’s an expensive sport. When it costs over 2500 dollars annually—on the low end—it’s no wonder the only kids playing are from the mid-to-upper class families. Camp Conway helps to bridge the gap. There’s so much athletic talent that goes unseen because of the economic imbalance. Think what the NHL might look like if money wasn’t an issue. It’d be a lot more fucking colorful, I’ll tell you that much.
Sometimes I question whether coaching was always my calling. I look forward to it, sometimes even more than games. Playing for the Lakes is the dream of every rink rat growing up in Minnesota, and I love it. But shit, I’m getting older, and sometimes, fostering the abilities of new athletes seems like better use of my time. I push away the thought, we’re coming into the final round of playoffs, this could be the pinnacle of my career, it’s time to stay focused.
“We’re going to start with horizontal figure eights and move into triangle puck swaps!”