Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
But not anymore.
From now on, when I want a burger, I’m going to ask for it.
Starting right now.
Chapter 9
Ian
I used to love my job.
Back when I was a rookie, busting my ass to prove myself to management and the more experienced members on the team, I couldn’t wait to get on the ice for practice or a game. Even if I was bruised and sore from the day before, I’d charge out of the locker room ready to rumble.
Was I occasionally a touch too aggressive?
Maybe.
There were absolutely times when the older guys shouted for me to slow down and keep a cool head, but I only got benched for fighting twice in my first two years and never with my own fucking team members. I idolized the older players and wanted all my fellow rookies to succeed. After all, this is a team sport, for God’s sake. No matter how talented our forwards or fierce our goalie, we rise or fall together.
As I watch Pete tackle Sven the Dick after he pops off with some smartass comment on the other side of the rink, a part of me wants to toss my stick and walk. I love this game and pushing myself to get better as an athlete, but this is fucking ridiculous.
I think back to the last conversation I had with my agent, the one in which Fred assured me he could get me traded to the Portland Badgers without breaking a sweat. They’re on my approved trade list, I have friends out there, and that team knows how to work together as a team.
But fuck…my entire family is here in the New York and New Jersey area. I see my parents and sisters and brothers at least once a month for a big family dinner. I get to chase my nieces and nephews around my parents’ big backyard and am even teaching three-year-old Owen how to play hockey. If I move clear across the country, I might only see them once or twice a year. I won’t be there to hold the babies after they’re born or to help my dad hang the Christmas lights without breaking his neck.
And I won’t be in the city I love best.
I’ve travelled the world and explored dozens of big cities other people seem to love, but for me none of them can hold a candle to New York. This city feels like it’s full of crazy people sometimes, but it’s also so…alive. New York has a pulsing, aching, determined, fiercely beating heart at the center of it. This city celebrates together and grieves together. It’s a place that’s always changing but still somehow always the same. And I love that.
In my more optimistic moments, I imagine taking my own son or daughter to the places my parents took us when we were kids. To the playgrounds in Central Park in the summer, where we ran wild through the water features and played King of the Hill on the giant rocks. To the Zoo and the museums and to ride the ferry around the Statue of Liberty and bikes on Governor’s Island.
In my less optimistic moments, I realize I might never be a dad. Most women want marriage before kids and considering what a shit job I’m doing of “parenting” this team…
Well, maybe I wouldn’t be such a great father after all.
“Is it too early for a drink?” Braxton asks as he skates up beside me, watching our assistant coach pull Sven and Pete apart.
“It’s Monday,” I say with a sigh.
“Well, fuck,” he curses dryly.
The entire team signed a “sobriety pledge” for the duration of our team-building camp. Management made it clear they don’t care if we have a drink or two on the weekends, but they expect us to be sharp, sober, and well-rested Monday through Friday.
“Do you think this team is cursed?” he asks. “I thought the new guys were supposed to ‘change the chemistry’ and make everything all better. But so far… I think they’re only making things worse.”
“I don’t know,” I say, hating the heavy, doomed feeling dragging at my stomach, making it feel like the wrap I had for lunch weighs a thousand pounds. “But something’s gotta give.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Maybe we’ll have a breakthrough during group therapy.” He snorts. “Or I’ll color a really pretty picture this afternoon and everything will magically be okay.”
I shoot him a hard look. “We’re taking that seriously from now on. I promised Evie we would. It’s disrespectful not to try as hard in those sessions as we try out here. If we really want this team to change, we need to give it everything we’ve got.”
Braxton grunts. “All right, man. But half the team saw her drunk and disorderly at the bar last Friday.” He exhales a soft huff of laughter. “You know they’re going to give her shit about it. That’s what they do. She’ll have to prove she can take the heat or…”