I’d had the occasional one-night stand to take care of any physical needs, though they often proved unsatisfying anyway. There’s nothing like a man who thinks he’s a god but can’t even provide a simple orgasm. I never had time for real relationships. I never allowed myself to have a boyfriend because one would take my time and attention from hockey. It wasn’t worth it.
Now, I’m stuck with the slap in the face that no matter how much I resent my parents for working all the time, I have been following in their footsteps my whole life. Sure, my chosen path didn’t involve pantsuits and briefcases like theirs did, but I didn’t live a life outside of hockey.
Facing the realization that hockey may not be forever, I’m floundering to think of anything else to do with the rest of my life. To create a life worth living.
I carry the heaviness of these thoughts with me as I make my way out of my apartment. Of all days to decide to have an existential crisis, it would be the day where I have to name a new team captain for next year, immediately after practice. Coach encouraged me to handle it sooner rather than later so that I can spend the rest of the season preparing her to take over when I graduate.
Instead of doing things normally by simply selecting a high-performing junior, I’m shaking things up a bit.
Icelynn is a sophomore and who I’d pick, hands down, to help run the team. But she’s our goalie, which is why I’ve selected our team’s first co-captains.
Rules prohibit goalies from wearing theCon their jersey, and their position means they can’t handle captain duties on the ice, but her infectious positive energy, dedication, and organization can’t be ignored.
My other choice is Naomi, she’s a junior, but since she was a redshirt her freshman year, she intends to stay on as a fifth-year senior. They’ll make a powerhouse pair and, if they play their cards right, could easily remain co-captains for the next two years.
Coach was apprehensive at first, but once I provided my rationale in the form of a clearly organized presentation, she had nothing to say against the proposal.
It’s not that I’m upset about passing on the torch, it’s just that today was not the day for the letter and my brain to throw a wrench in my perfectly laid plans.
After an exceptionally brutal practice, Coach pulls us all to the center of the ice, gesturing for me to join her.
Standing beside her, the team surrounds us, kneeling or sitting on the ice. A swell of pride consumes me because of all we’ve accomplished last year, and this year already. It’s not often that a team in the middle of the desert is one of the best ice hockey teams in North America.
“We’ve worked hard to prepare for this year and it’s showing,” I begin.
“But the work ain’t over yet, so don’t get comfortable!” Coach adds in with her southern twang, and we all laugh.
“Every single woman on this team has done nothing but continue to grow as a player, and as a person since I met them. As you all know, this will be my last year . . .” Playful boos erupt around the circle. “And as your captain, I’ve spent all of last year, and this summer, being keenly aware that today, I would be choosing my replacement.”
I make the mistake of glancing around at the faces of those who have become the closest thing I’ve had to a family for the last four years. I have to fight the emotions growing within me, taking a deep breath and focusing on Coach beside me.
“Last week I offered my selection to Coach, and after one of my presentations that you all love so much,”—more snickers accompanied by rolling eyes—“she agreed with my . . . slightly unorthodox proposition.” I can’t help but smile at the sudden confusion on everyone’s faces.
“So, for next year, I’ve selected Icelynn. If you could join us up here,” I say, as murmurs spread around the group of women, knowing goalies can’t wear theCon the ice, “and Naomi.”
Giving the girls a moment to join Coach and I, I continue to smile at the bewilderment on their faces.
“Now, if you two lovely ladies accept, you’ll be co-captains working together to lead the team.”
I turn to the rest of the team. “Icelynn has shown us countless times that she’s a strong leader, motivating and rallying the team. She’s also organized volunteer efforts in our community, and so much more. Naomi has similarly showed us her strong leadership, but hers is more technical and controlled. A specialty that would serve you all well on the ice. Additionally, with each of them having two years left, you all have an exceptional opportunity to really continue to grow to tremendous heights.”
Smiling and returning my attention to Icelynn and Naomi, I continue, “If you accept, for the remainder of this season and on through graduation, I will be mentoring and preparing you to be the best captains this team has ever had.”
The reaction is delayed, but once the idea settles, the whoops and hollers begin, accompanied by a barrage of clapping and congratulations. Icelynn and Naomi are still a bit stunned by my announcement, so I prompt them, bringing their attention back to the ice. “So, what do you say? Co-captains in training?”
They look at each other, then at the women surrounding us, then back at each other. With conspiratorial smiles on theirfaces, Naomi leans in and whispers in Icelynn’s ear, and she nods. They lock hands, raising their arms between their bodies and yell, “Hell, yeah!” together.
The group erupts once more, everyone rising from the ice to jump on, high five, hug, and congratulate my successors.
October
3
Kodi
Practice fucking sucked today.
Because winning football games isn’t good enough, Coach basically tortures us every practice to make sure we know what he’s capable of if we even think about losing. Just being in this goddess-damned desert is cruel and unusual punishment enough, but let’s go ahead and add an unknown number of sprints—because I lost count fifteen minutes in—and just as many agility drills.
