Cole was wrong. I was totally focused on my season. We were one of the favorites to win the Eastern Conference, and I was going to lead the team in points.
Then why, I wondered,can’t I get the new trainer out of my head?
3
June
“Iamexcited!” I insisted on the phone while sitting in traffic. “Why wouldn’t you think I’m excited?”
“Because you don’t want your father and me to come to the game,” my mom replied on the other end.
“It’s a six-hour drive. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re going to be on television! And you don’t think it’s worth it for your parents to come?”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. My mother was an expert at guilt trips. But I’d become an expert at not letting it get to me.
“I’m not one of the players, Mom. I’m the physical trainer.”
“But you’ll be down there with the players! That’s what your father told me. Hold on, let me put him on…”
“Mom, you don’t need to—”
“Hi, sweetie,” my dad said. “I looked it up. The coaches and trainers sit on the bench with the players.”
“That’s right.”
“Then why don’t you want us to come to your first game?”
“Because I already have enough pressure on me. Besides, you’ll be able to see me better on TV than in person! In any case, it doesn’t matter now because the game is only a few hours away. I have to go. Love you guys.”
“Love you, sweetie. We’re so proud of you!”
I let out a long sigh after hanging up. My parents were overbearing, but I had to remind myself it was in the loving kind of way. They just wanted to support me in my new career.
Let’s get through my first game first, I told myself.Then I can start calling it a career.
Their excitement mirrored my own, though. This was the first game of the NHL season! I’d been a nervous wreck, unable to sleep last night and practically bouncing off the walls in my apartment all day.
I pulled up to the entrance of the employee parking lot. It was just like all the others surrounding the Atlanta Reapers’ stadium, except right next to the entrance. And I had to flash my badge to a security guard to be allowed in.
“Welcome, Ms. Wilder,” the guard said with a smile.
I kept it together until my window was rolled up, then I giggled to myself all the way inside.
“June,” Coach Jay greeted me when I passed by his office. “Clipboard is on the wall. Let me know if you have any questions.”
“Got it, Coach,” I replied. The clipboard contained a list of all the players that had lingering injuries and needed attention. Five players were on the injured reserve list, which meant they were out. Seven other players had lingering injuries that may or may not prevent them from playing tonight. It was my job to accurately assess whether or not they should be cleared.
Over the next hour, players began trickling into the locker room. Those that were on the clipboard came to visit me. Aside from the guys on injured reserve, it was all minor stuff. Elbow tendinitis, a sore ankle, a strained oblique.
Rhett was one of the last to arrive. He walked into my office wearing a three-piece suit that made him look more like a financial advisor than an athlete.
“I feel great,” he said with a warm smile. “Shoulder hasn’t bothered me since the scrimmage.”
I still made him remove his jacket and go through a range of motions with his arm. Only when I was satisfied did I let him go.
Coach Jay popped into my office during warm-ups to see what I thought. I told him that I’d officially cleared everyone, however, the defenseman with the tender oblique should maybe get dropped down to third line for this game, just to be safe.
