“Feels like knives,” he says through a clenched jaw.
“Good. That means I’m doing it right.”
After that, I run a couple of quick proprioceptive tests…simple balance work on one foot, then add a bit of perturbation. His form’s okay, but he’s compensating.
“We’re gonna need to add some wobble board drills and banded resistance work,” I say as I stand to my full height. “We’ll talk to the head trainer about a progression plan.”
He groans dramatically. “You’re making me do the ankle alphabet again, aren’t you?”
“Every damn day, buddy. A through Z. Lowercase and cursive.”
Once I’ve finished the soft tissue work, I go for the pre-wrap and tape. My hands move automatically, smooth and fast. When I finish, the tape job is clean. Tight, but not restrictive.
He hops down, rotates his ankle a bit, and gives me a low nod.
“Feels good.”
As Hughie rolls his ankle a few more times and goes to lace up his tennis shoes, I start wiping down the table for whoever walks through the door next.
I turn just as Dr. Kellner steps into view.
He’s got that amused look on his face. The man’s been with the team longer than most of the players have been shaving. A total hardass, but sharp as hell.
“You tape that?” he asks, nodding toward Hughie’s ankle.
I pause for a second, then nod. “Yeah. Soft tissue work, cross-friction massage, ran a quick balance test. He’s still compensating a bit, so I added some proprioceptive work to his plan.”
Dr. Kellner raises a brow. “Good instincts.”
I blink. Did I just get... praise?
“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound cool about it, even though my heart is suddenly trying to beat its way out of my chest.
He studies me for a second, arms crossed, then tilts his head. “What’s the plan for you, Jacob? Long term.”
I don’t hesitate. “I want to be a team physician. Eventually NHL. I want to do what you do.”
He nods, and there’s no smirk this time, just a thoughtful kind of look that makes me feel like maybe I’m not just dreaming big.
“I can see that,” he says finally. “You’ve got the brain for it and more importantly, the right attitude. Come find me after hours sometime this week. We’ll start discussing future plans and how to get you where you want to be.”
For a second, I just stare at him. Then I catch myself and nod quickly. “Yeah. Absolutely. I will. Thank you.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder and then walks off, just like that.
Hughie gives me a crooked grin from across the room. “Look at you. Teacher’s pet.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter, but I’m smiling.
4
Jacob
I don’t necessarily hateschool but I definitely hate classes.
Okay, yeah, that makes no fucking sense on paper, but just hang with me for a second. It’s not the idea of learning that gets to me.
In fact, I love learning.
