The question has been sitting there since the headlines started.
My mess all tied up with him.
Markus doesn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Sure?” I press.
“Absolutely,” he says again, calmer now. “Leo, journalistsare always going to make things sound as dramatic as possible. That’s their job. This isn’t going to touch my career.”
“Okay.” I’m instantly relieved.
“I mean,” he adds lightly, “if anything, it’s just made the Shaw family a lot more interesting.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Exactly what I was going for.”
“I watched the games. I found a stream.”
I grip the phone a little tighter.
“And?”
“You kicked ass,” he says.
Simple.
“You should have seen yourself out there, Leo,” he says, his voice full of pride.
“Thank you,” I reply quietly.
“Have you ever heard of Justine Blainey?”
“Should I have?”
“She took Hockey Canada to court in the eighties. Because they wouldn’t let her play boys’ hockey.”
That gets my attention.
“What happened?”
“She won.”
I sit up slightly.
“Wait - really?”
“Yeah. Changed a lot of things over there. Opened doors that didn’t exist before.”
Someone fighting to play - refusing to acceptno.
“Her name doesn’t ring a bell,” I admit.
Markus laughs.
“Maybe you should read up on her. You definitely didn’t do it the conventional way.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“But you still stepped onto the ice when you weren’t supposed to have the chance. That counts for something.”
