Trash Can Tattle is a regular column that falls somewhere between gossip and game, bringing you all the things in one convenient place – away from the excellent news, features, and opinions and interviews from the rest of the NCAA, right here at UCR (the University of Cedar Rapids).
This week, I bring news of evenmoretragedy to befall one of our own. Tate Myers, UCR’s soon-to-be declared fit to return to the ice, top goal scorer, suffered the catastrophic loss of both his parents in a car accident almost four weeks ago.
Myers—whose jaw had been wired shut for the better part of six weeks following a slapshotto the face—had just had the wiring inside his mouth removed when he heard the heartbreaking news.
Sources close to Myers told your favorite one-stop-hockey-news-shop, Tattle with Tabitha, that the forward still plans on returning to the ice this weekend to face the Wisconsin Wolves.
The team is scheduled to practice both tomorrow and Friday, ahead of Saturday’s clash of the titans here at the Trash Can, and the Raccoons are hoping to ice a stronger offensive line with Myers back in the saddle.
Tattle with Tabitha would like to extend our sincere sympathies to Tate, the whole UCR Raccoons family, and the extended hockey community for the loss of former NHL hockey great, Zachary Myers and his wife Emmaline.
We’d also like to wish Tate all the best in his big return to the game this weekend. The Raccoons have held their own in his absence, but word in the locker room is that he couldn’t come back at a better time. He has been sorely missed by his linemates, and—dare I say—the score line.
That’s it for this week, hockey fans, don’t forget to...
Dish the Deets
Heard a rumor? Spied one of the delicious de la Peña brothers or any of the Raccoons out in the wild? Click here to contact Trash Can Tattle with Tabitha.
CHAPTER 42
Penelope
I’m gonna barf.
I think I’m more nervous than Tate is.
He was cleared for play this week by his own doctors, the team doctors, and the coaching staff. I guess I’d been holding out hope that he’d get benched, or he wouldn’t get the all-clear, or there’d besomereason he couldn’t ice this weekend.
But, true to my high achieving boyfriend, he aced all his tests and has a severe boner for getting back on the ice. For real, I wouldn’t be surprised if he humped the ice a bit more than usual during warmups.
There’s never been a time in his hockey-playing life when he’s been off-ice for this long. He was buzzing with so much excitement this morning that his body was quivering.
Dad and I have taken our seats, for this game, we’re right up against the plexi. It’s not our usual spot in the stands, but for this game in particular, we needed to be up close and personal to the action. My brother’s team is in town to play my boyfriend’s team. Talk about being torn.
I guess either way is a win, right?
The girls are sitting right behind us, which in hindsight may not have been the best plan. Eloise gets kind of jumpy during biggames and last time, she dumped half a box of popcorn over the people in front of her.
I’ve got my back to the ice to chat to them while we wait, we’re super early, so it’s all quiet. There are a few more minutes before the teams burst onto the ice for warm up, and I plan to keep my back exactly where it is.
I’m not sure I can stare at his face. Hiding my anxiety from him has already been a challenge. Offering to make game day protein shakes for the whole team sounded like a good idea at the time, however, now the fate of the whole fucking game rests on my shoulders by throwing out their usual patterns and superstitions.
What was I thinking?
If they lose it’ll be because of my shakes, if they win, they’ll want it every damn week. When in actual fact, it was a distraction tactic from the fact that my beloved, my healing, grieving, strong-and-stubborn-as-an-ox other half will be stepping out onto the ice. I’m not ready.
Would I ever be ready though?
Something I probably should have avoided doing was looking up the game footage from the night he caught the puck with his jaw. A shiver snakes up my spine, making all the hairs on my body stand on end and my gut flip-flop as I re-watch the footage in my brain.
There’s no erasing that now that I’ve seen it.
Eloise offers me her popcorn but I cover my mouth, shaking my head.
“She’s gonna blow.” It’s Athena who states the obvious. “She’s green.”
Edith is the one who takes my hand. “He’s going to be okay. I know you’re freaking out, but he’s going to be okay.”
