“Mr. Kovalenko may have...procured this for me. So, this is what you like, then, Mr. Tremblay?”
I turn on the dais and look into the mirrors. The suit is expensive, well cut, and...bland. Just like me.
“I, uh, it's what I wear. What I've always worn.”
“Mm. And you like it?”
“I...it's fine.”
He gives a little nod.
“What if we try a few small changes first?” he asks, his eyes kinder than they have been so far this morning.
“Yes, that...that would be fine. We can...try.”
He heads back to the clothing rack, grabbing a sweater to hand me.
“Keep the suit, but instead of the shirt, try this.
Inside the changing room, I take a long look at the sweater. It's a crew neck sweater, a deep green that reminds me of an old Coke bottle. The fabric is soft, unbelievably soft, and when I put it on, I find it's warm, too. Perfect for a Minnesota winter. I shrug the suit jacket back on and walk out of the changing room.
Carter's head lifts as I open the curtain, and the look in his eyes turns warm. As I step onto the dais, I look to see what he sees.
Oh.
I look...nice. Not just well put together, or expensive, but...like someone you'd want to talk to.
“You boys got lucky with that new collective bargaining agreement. You couldn't have worn this just a few years ago on a game day, but now the sky's the limit!”
Now that I know he's worked with Alexei, I shouldn't be surprised at Mr. Williams' knowledge of the NHL dress code, but I realize he's right – when I first joined the league, prettymucheveryonewas wearing boring, dark suits. Over the last decade and a half, that's changed – first with people like Alexei bringing more color and fun into their suits and ties, and then finally with a change to the dress code altogether, no longer requiring suits and ties at all on game days.
“Now, if you ask me, some of the boys have taken it too far. Sweats and beanies arenotfor game day.”
I had to agree with him. The ritual of putting on a suit, dressing up for game day had always reminded me that this was an important job, and that I needed to treat it with respect. More than that, it put me in the right mindset to play hard.
“But something like this? A little softer than your standard? This iswhythe new dress code is a godsend.”
The wordsofterechoes in my mind. It's not something I've ever aspired to be. From the time I was a kid, my dad taught me to play harder, tobeharder. But I look at Jamie, his eyes still lingering on me, and I wonder – what difference might it have made if his captain had been a little softer, a little more approachable? How could it have changed his first weeks on the team?
How could it change the rest of his season?
I clear my throat and look at Mr. Williams.
“This is good. I like this.”
Of course,Mr. Williams isn't content to send me on my way with a single suit, most of which I already owned. Now that he has a sense of me – and now that I'm a little more cooperative – he hits his stride, pulling together several outfits from the clothing rack.
The first few outfits are more casual — jeans with sweaters, none of them black.
“I wouldn’t recommend these for game day, but they’d be nice for going out to a team dinner or doing charity work.”
Usually, I’d wear sweats for that. At best, jeans and a hoodie. Buthe’s right — I could step it up, look like the captain I want to be. These areaspirationalclothes.
Soon, though, we’re back to more formal options.
The next suit is a lot like the first — this time, the suit is gray with a black crew neck sweater underneath. There is, however, one major problem. I poke my head out of the dressing room.
“I, uh, can’t get the pants on.”
