“Coach Gemma, that’sbabystuff. Wealreadyknow how to skate in a circle,” a girl in a blue dress called out. She looked to be about ten years old and wore her hair in two french braids.
That’s what you think.
“If that’s the case, then this should be easy for you.” She winked. “Go ahead. Show me how it’s done.”
The girl in blue huffed. “Come on, guys.’”
Gemma skated backward, allowing the group some space. She bit back a yelp as the muscles in her hip spasmed. Keeping her eyes pinned on her students, she watched as the girl led everyone out around the red circle in the corner of the rink. They performed a set of clumsy forward crossovers.
She bit back another wince as she watched everyone skate at their own speed. It was only a moment or two before two of the older and taller girls bumped into one another. Another few seconds after that, another girl tripped and grabbed the wall.
She clapped her hands together, and everyone stopped talking, giving her their undivided attention. “That was a good first attempt, but not quite what I meant. In synchronized skating, you guys don’t skate as individuals. You skate as a team,” Gemma explained.
The girls stared at her with a series of blank faces.
Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved her mobile phone and unlocked the screen. “Here, it might make more sense if you have a look at this video clip.”
The girls in the Intro to Syncro class huddled around her. She tapped Play, and the screen lit up with a clip from a Dreams on Ice practice. The skaters on the screen latched onto each other’s shoulders and performed a set of backward crossovers.
“Do you see how everyone in the circle is looking at one another? They’re watching each other to make sure they are all skating at the same speed at the same time.”
Her students nodded in understanding.
“Oh, I get it now,” the girl in the blue dress exclaimed, her eyes widening. “We need to pretend we’re like Coach Frankie and Mr. C.”
“Yes, exactly,” Gemma affirmed, and lined them up once again. “Go ahead and grab each other’s hands. This time, when you get to the circle, we’ll try pumping our right skates forward, just like we do before a crossover.”
The girls glided over to form a circle.
“When I count off ‘one and two,’ pump. On the counts ‘three and four,’ I want you to glide.”
“I’m confused, Coach Gemma.”
“Me too.”
She exhaled slowly. “It’ll make more sense in a moment. I promise.”
Thirty long minutes later, the class was mercifully over. Gemma fled the ice for the safety of the pros’ room as quickly as she could. Closing the door behind her, she sank onto the bench by her temporary locker and removed her skates.
“Tough time?” Charlie’s amused voice called out.
Gemma’s head shot up. Frankie’s boyfriend sat at the end of the bench, tucking the bottom of his skating trousers over one of his skating boots.
She nodded glumly. “I don’t know why I volunteered to help coach this weekend. I’m rubbish at it.”
Charlie chuckled. “I doubt it went as badly as you think it did.”
Gemma’s brow furrowed. “I was so frustrated. I had no idea how to get them to do what I wanted. They kept staring at me with blank faces.”
“Did you yell or lose your temper?”
Slightly taken aback, she shook her head. “No, I’d never yell at kids, especially ones who are just learning how to skate.”
“Then you did just fine. Coaching is tricky, and at times, frustrating. We’ve all been there. You just need time and practice with figuring out how to explain things in a way that kids can understand and relate to.” He stood. “Wasn’t Les supposed to help you?”
She rubbed the ball of her bare foot and set her skate beside her. “She got called away to deal with a couple troublemakers.”
“Got it.”
