This whole situation has gotten out of control in the best way.
My skates hit the ice and I skate around our half of the ice as the other team’s intro plays; the music and announcer are loud, but I hardly hear any of it. I’m focused on my breathing as I skate around, slapping a puck toward the goal then continuing to skate.
I glance at the signs as I skate by, not lingering on one for too long. There’s one that catches my eye because I see my last name and number twenty-three in bright marker. A kid is holding the sign, and it asks about trading a puck for a snack. It makes me grin, and I grab one of the pucks with my stick, skating over to the glass and smiling at the kid in a Dragon’s jersey.
Flicking the puck up with my stick, I carefully send it over the glass, making sure the kid gets it and his mom tosses a bag of chips over to me. I tap the glass with my glove before skating over to the bench to toss the small bag down. While I’m here I squirt some water into my mouth and Coach Mitchell comes up to me.
“Everything okay with Collins?” he questions gruffly.
“How would I know?” I don’t mean to have an attitude, but I’m not friends with him, and frankly he’s been a dick to me and everyone lately.
“Just seems to be on edge and keeps glaring at you.”
I shrug then skate back onto the ice, my eyes catching on Collins who just checked our other teammate, Rodriguez. See, it’s not just me that he seems to have an issue with. There’s no reason to check a teammate like that especially during warm ups. He’s just a dick.
People like to talk about my dad’s time playing and what an asshole he could be, but I think Collins has him beat.
Other than the one time my dad and McQuaid got in a fight during a game, I’m pretty sure that’s the only time in NHL history teammates were fighting. The video is really funny, and something my dad likes to whip it out on Christmas.
We all skate back toward the tunnel when warm ups are over,and I see Collins say something to another teammate who grimaces while Collins laughs. I shake my head, really trying not to focus too much of my attention on whatever his deal is.
Even back in the locker room he’s being obnoxious toeveryone,getting in faces and saying stupid shit.
“Collins!” Coach Mitchell snaps.
“’Sup?”
The locker room goes silent because no one talks to the Coach like that, and either Collins doesn’t care about the sudden tension he caused, or doesn’t notice it.
Coach flexes his jaw. “We’re going to chat after the game.”
Collins puts his hand to his forehead. “Aye aye, Captain.”
I can tell Coach wants to say something to him right now, but holds back because we’re about to start the game.
Our Captain, Theo Dawson, finally speaks up, “Collins, chill the fuck out and save your shit for the game.”
“Ooh, finally piss you off enough,Captain?”
“Seriously, just shut up,” I grumble.
“I forgot the team nepo baby is the one really in charge here, right?”
The room is filled with telling Collins to shut up, and we’re finally free of his outbursts when it’s game time. I’m grateful for the reprieve as we all get out onto the ice. I notice the tension from Collins, and I’m sure he’s going to have a shitty night after the game, win or lose, because Coach is going to completely ream him.
But none of that matters right now. All I want is to win.
When we get out onto the ice I realize I was too distracted by the shit going on with my team that I didn’t look at my phone to see a text from Rae she always sends wishing me luck. This sets me on edge. It’s a part of my routine, and as an athlete routines are extremely important.
I try not to let it consume me too much, but my mind is spinning while we line up on the ice, through the national anthem, and then as we get in position for puck drop. It isn’t until thepuck hits the ice and everyone starts moving that I snap out of it and get into game mode.
The other team gets possession and I’m skating backwards as they try to bring the puck over to our zone. We’re able to intercept a pass, and quickly skate over to the other side and take advantage of the line change. I hop over the boards as the other line jumps on.
While on the bench I keep a close eye on the game, and by the time Collins is on the ice on the third line, it doesn’t take long before he gets a penalty for high sticking. I shake my head; he tries to argue with the ref, but it doesn’t do anything.
I look across the ice at where the penalty box closes, and Collins is glaring directly at me. I shake my head, looking away because I don’t need to deal with him anymore. Whatever his deal is with me he can get over himself.
We win the game,but just barely. We went into overtime and a shootout where we were able to clinch the winning point. Back in the locker room, I’m glad Coach Mitchell has seemed to get Collins away from all of us as we get dressed to head back to the bus. I pull out my phone to see a few texts from Rae and smile. Even though I didn’t see her good luck text, she sent it anyway.
