I chuckle at that. With a glance at Tremblay, I decide it's my chance to offer a compliment.
“You know, you’re really good at this, at seeing the ice and the opportunities.”
His cheeks redden.
“Nah, I've just seen these same moves over and over. It gets easier to visualize after a few decades.” He winks at the self-deprecating joke.
“No, I mean it. You've got great hockey IQ. You ever think of coaching when you retire?”
He looks at me, and for a moment he just thinks.
“I...I don't really know.”
“I mean, not that you're, like, old or anything. But don't we all sort of wonder what we'll do when we've gotta hang up our skates for the last time? It was all I fucking thought about at UCLA – would this season be my last? Would I ever get another agent? Would I get drafted? What if I didn't? Don't you ever just...wonder?”
His eyebrows scrunch together, and it feels like I've stepped out of line somehow. As I start to worry that I've offended him, he responds.
“What’s your degree in?”
My mind takes a moment to process what he’s asked.
“Um, psychology. Why?”
He nods.
“That makes sense.”
He doesn’t explain himself further and I can’t help but wonder why he thinks so.
“Were you one of those athletes who just picked something easy? Or were you actually interested in it? Like, as a career?”
Now I see where he’s going with this.
“The truth is, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get drafted. Ifigured, worst case scenario, hockey could buy me a useful degree for a career I’d like. So yeah, I was interested in it.”
“Like…therapy? Or what?”
“Yeah. I’d need grad school – which my mom isstilltrying to get me to apply to – but some kind of mental healthcare provider.”
He looks at me and hums.
“Yeah, Jamie. Sometimes I wonder.”
Then he puts on his headphones and stares out the window as we descend into Michigan.
In Detroit,it works again. We start with the pass play, which is a little easier to execute. It takes a little work, but I start to get the rhythm. The first few passes are wide, sending Lindy chasing them down. The next few are on point, though, and Lindy starts getting plenty of shots on goal. Finally, we time one just right and he manages a one-timer into the top corner of the goal. For the first time, Tremblay joins in on the celebration, crashing into Lindy and I.
In the second period, I decide to switch things up a bit. I get Volkov to commit right, then execute a tight turn around to his left, earning myself a clear shot low in the net. By the third period, the Detroit coach stops putting Volkov and Fournier out with me, leaving me the second d-pair to deal with instead. As Tremblay predicted, I skate around them easily, managing to score once more before the buzzer.
The game is a matinee, so we’re able to fly directly to Columbus afterward. Finally, we have a slightly longer flight and no game to immediately prepare for. As I sit down, my phone buzzes with a text from Avery.
Avery Lawson 3:22PM
That game was SICK.
You made Volkov look like an AHL callup
Jamie Carter 3:23PM
