But nope.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw the exact same thing.
The coach standing on the home team bench was none other than Mark Rossi.
Mark, the same Mark that hurt Ali in more ways than one, was coaching kids at the Richard Charles Kappers memorial rink.
As the game started, I tried to pay attention to the kids, but my attention kept drifting over to Rossi on the home team’s bench.
He used to have a strong jaw and sharp cheek bones, but his face grew puffy with age. As he walked across the bench, I could tell he still had that cocky air to him that I always hated.
The two teams were like night and day.
Will and Johnny’s kids were sitting in all different states on the bench, some slumped over, others standing, resting against their sticks. Each time music played between shifts, their back-up goalie was busting out dance moves and hyping up his teammates. Will and Johnny ducked toward kids here and there, giving them pointers. At the end of their shifts, the kids kept trying to jump over the boards and into the box with varying states of success. I laughed as Johnny had to help pull a kid into the box when he got stuck on top of the boards.
Rossi’s team resembled a military unit. Each kid sat in the same way—hunched forward with eyes trained on the game. Rossi stalked back and forth across the bench, ignoring the kids sitting while yelling at kids on the ice.
After a player on Johnny’s team scored, the player went crazy, doing an over-the-top celly toward the small crowd, making me laugh. His teammates in the box absolutely erupted for him, jumping up and down and pounding on the boards with their sticks.
Rossi’s team was the complete opposite. After a goal, the only celebration each kid did was raising their stick in the air. Watching the kids on the bench, my stomach twisted. They didn’t even look happy for each other, which defeated a huge fucking point of playing on a team.
There were a couple kids on each team that had immense talent. One kid, #4 on Rossi's team, was definitely the leading scorer. But I couldn’t tell if it was because he was just that good, or if it was because he was getting double-shifted the entire game, meaning he was being given more opportunities than other players. The curious thing about the kid was that he didn’t even look happy when he scored a hattrick. The road to success in hockey was a very long one, if kids weren’t having fun at this age, it was pointless to continue.
Rossi was ruining the sport for these kids.
Johnny and Will’s team ended up scoring a buzzer-beater to winthe game, 6-5. As soon as the ref called the goal, the kids jumped out of the box and rushed their goalie in celebration, making me grin.
But my face dropped while watching the home team. They filed out of their box, hanging their heads.
Rossi shuffled onto the ice in his tennis shoes. I watched him paste on a fake-ass grin as he shook hands with Will and Johnny before he followed his team back to the locker room.
Knowing Rossi was back there with kids had my stomach twisting in knots. I really fucking hoped he changed into a better person over the years. But Ali’s words came into my mind, stopping that train of thought. Hope couldn't cut it with this situation. I needed todosomething.
A mental snapshot of Ali’s bruised, tear-streaked face flew into my brain. I held my head and grit my teeth, trying to control myself. Because right then, I had a deep urge to seek him out and stop him from ever being able to harm another person ever again.
Breathing out a couple deep breaths, I centered myself before heading down to the locker room to congratulate the kids on their win.
In the locker room, I stood next to Johnny while Will gave the kids a solid debrief of the game, calling out kids who played well. I tried to pay attention, but my body was stuck on autopilot while my brain tried to make sense of Mark Rossi being a youth hockey coach.
“And now it’s time for the MVP!” Will shouted, making all the kids hoot and holler.
A kid across the room pulled a neon construction vest out of his bag. Holding it up, he gave a speech that had the whole locker room cracking up laughing before he handed it to a shy kid across the room from him.
Johnny leaned toward me while clapping. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Unclenching my fists, I started for the door.
But Johnny was quicker. He angled his body in front of me, blocking my path. “You’re a shit liar, bud. Something’s wrong. What aren’t you telling me?”
I cracked my neck and rolled my good shoulder back, trying to loosen the tension coiling around my body. Johnny knew bits and pieces of the past that Ali shared this morning, so I wasn’t spilling her secrets when I said, “You know Ali’s abusive ex?”
His eyes narrowed. “You see him or something?”
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “On the home team bench.”
Johnny’s face dropped in realization. He swore under his breath. “Okay, yeah, you should get out of here. Try to avoid him. This whole thing will be easier if he’s agreeable.”
I gave a nod.
