Local Sports Blog – New Haven Hammerwho?
Hammerheads see familiar face at practice amid franchise uncertainty
With League talks continuing regarding potential team restructuring next season, veteran D-man Nate Eriksson returned to practice this week following the extension of his suspension. Teammates appeared energized by his presence, with several drills extending beyond scheduled time. Captain Jaime McAllister was seen skating one-on-one with Eriksson after practice concluded. In a season defined by instability, the moment felt…READ MORE →
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ALTITUDE ADJUSTMENT
Holly
“I’ve survived worse than a time zone.”
Holly hiked along the familiar trail, the warm LA evening breeze sifting through her hair as though looking for the secrets she didn’t keep any more. No need to grab what she could and get out before the world could collapse beneath her.
She didn’t need reassurance. Not anymore. What she needed now was clarity. Which was deeply inconvenient, because clarity required spreadsheets.
The Hollywood sign was nestled gently into the hills beneath the lookout. It seemed a little withdrawn, like it was sick of being looked up to and just needed a minute. Everything else carried on around it, the city spilling out below in shimmering grids of light that suggested infinite possibility and absolutely no parking. Hollywood: where dreams came true and parking tickets decimated credit scores.
She let her gaze trace the lines of the letters like she always had, seeing now that the sign was so much more than a monument to her dreams. Delusion had wormed its way into the cracked corrugated steel. Ambition lingered in the spots wherethe decades-old white paint seemed a little brighter. And there, beneath each new thought she carried about the legacy of LA’s most famous landmark, the rhythmic pulse of reinvention whispered to her.
Same girl, new operating system. Never give up. Just change direction.
And she had. Because she loved him.
Not with an operatic score and white doves coaxed into flight by a stagehand. It was a love that made her consider flight paths and scheduling blocks, and whether she preferred red-eyes or early mornings when crossing time zones. Nate lived in Connecticut and his life revolved around the hockey season. She was based here, worrying about production calendars and the immovable reality of her mother’s treatment schedule.
She paced slowly along the overlook, boots pressing lightly into gravel as her brain mapped out a blueprint. Loving him didn’t scare her anymore. Now she just needed to learn how to build something durable across geography and real-world obligations without either of them shrinking to make it easier. Long-distance relationships weren’t great, but she refused to treat the idea like a villain. The difference now was that this plan involved two lives instead of one, and she wanted to get it right without jeopardizing her mom.
Holly had already spoken to the billing coordinator at the hospital and renegotiated the payment schedule so it flexed with production bonuses instead of fixed dates. If they won the season, the prize purse would wipe out the next round of treatment entirely. If they didn’t, she still had a teaching residency waiting for her next quarter. Between those, her mom’s care was covered through the end of the year.
Win or not, she wasn’t gambling her mother’s health on a trophy.
When she shifted her weight, she felt something firm press against her hip from inside her sweatshirt pocket. She reached for it absently with a light frown, thinking it might be something that she could fiddle with like a lightning rod for her nervous energy while she thought things over. Her fingers closed around a folded edge and she pulled out a worn photograph, smoothing it carefully. It wasn’t until she saw what it was a photographofthat she realized she hadn’t worn this sweatshirt since the night they’d spent at his parents’ house in Copenhagen.
Young Nate beamed up at her from beneath chaotic curly hair and an oversized jersey, limbs all angles and optimism. He was only about eleven or twelve, but he looked like a kid who’d already decided where he belonged before the world could argue otherwise. Before ego or reputation, or anyone suggested his value lay primarily in how hard he could hit.
Her mouth curved into a slow, heartfelt smile.
“You’ve always been like this,” she murmured softly as she inspected him, fingertips ghosting over the optimism that’d been captured in time. She turned the photo over, neat handwriting stacked on the back of it like a prayer.
He’s still this boy. Even now.
Especially now.
Don’t let him forget.
Sigrid x
Holly pressed the photograph lightly against her heart. She knew now that the ring in his bag hadn’t been about pressure. It’d been enthusiasm. The unfiltered impulse of a man who just didn’t know how to love halfway. Now, standing above a city built on reinvention, she could see the difference as clear as day.
Intent didn’t demand answers, it invited collaboration.God.When did she become someone who said things like that without gagging?
She slipped the photograph back into her pocket just as she heard footsteps on the gravel behind her. Holly turned to see Nate a few paces away, hands tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie. He was watching her calmly, his black curls tousled slightly by the wind.
“Thinking?” he said, his tone easy, as though he were commenting on the weather rather than stepping into the middle of something significant.
She smiled. “Strategic planning.”
