Page 39 of For the Win

Today nothing much seems to really matter.I’m struggling with the news we got yesterday.Even though we’d suspected for a while, it’s hard having it confirmed.Even so, I keep thinking, maybe the doctor is wrong.I know it’s stupid denial, but I can’t help it.

When I see Arya, my mood lifts.She’s so sweet and pretty, all golden and glowing.And there’s a serenity about her, in her soft voice and calm demeanor.I always try to focus on what she tells us to do, but today I’m really concentrating on it, trying to get the most benefit I can from this session.

“Yoga moves us from the fight-or-flight state, to the rest-and-digest state,” Arya says as she moves among us.“Breathing deeply calms the nervous system.Your body starts to turn off arousing nerve chemicals like adrenaline.Itstops releasing fatty acids and sugar into the bloodstream, and sodium leaves the inside of the body’s cells.This slows the rate of nerve firing and relaxes your brain...your heart...your muscles.”

I go with it, focusing on my breath.Arya stops next to me as I balance in Tree Pose.“Feel like you’re pushing your right foot through the mat,” she says.“Use your hand to bring your left foot even higher.”

I shift my foot higher on my thigh, trying to focus on balance and not on her.

“Big inhale...and reach your hands up.”She lifts her own arms up.

We stand like this for I don’t know how long.The music is Pink Floyd’s “Breathe,” which is appropriate but surprising.I really like the music she chooses for these classes.

“Let’s try a variation on this today,” Arya continues.“Bring your hands up again...on the exhale, bring your left hand down and touch your fingertips to that knee...shift your weight slowly as you reach your right hand over your head to the left...”

I wobble.I breathe.I find my balance.

She touches my right side.“Create a nice big opening here...that’s it.”

She moves on.“And bring your right arm back up...palms together...and down to heart center.”

We repeat the pose on the other leg.I try to make it perfect.Breathe.Balance.Focus.

After class, I head to the locker room to change.Remarkably, I do feel in a better place than when I arrived at the arena.My head feels clearer.

On the ice in our practice jerseys, Coach starts off with a lecture about how just because we’ve made the playoffs doesn’t mean we can slack off.We know we’ll be playing against Vancouver, and there are things we have to work on to beat them.Meantime, we still have four regular-season games to work on those things.

He gets us skating our asses off in some drills, the whistle blowing, working on 3 on 3 D support, which works on quick transitions, give-and-go passes, and swinging to become a passing option.This is a hard workout for us forwards, but I’m a lot more aware of transitions now.

We end the practice with a small-area game.The nets are set up on the sides of the ice, at one end.Playing in a small area forces us to be creative since we have a limited amount of space.We have to be in control of the puck and use our teammates, and it gives everyone a lot of puck touches, meaning it’s fast and fun.And competitive.I’m intense, going hard for the puck, shooting at Bergie and making him work hard too.I even get it past him a few times.

At the end, we’re all breathing hard and laughing.

I’m laughing.

I shouldn’t be laughing.My dad is dying.

I close my eyes briefly as I glide across the ice, stick in my hands.I can’t think that way.Life is still happening all around us.

I coast toward the gate and my eyes widen when I see Arya sitting in the stands right behind the bench.Gary’s talking to her about something, and she nods, and stands, since practice is over.I hop off the ice and stop as she walks down the steps.

“Hey,” I say.“You’re still here.”

“Yes.Gary thought it would be good for me to watch you guys on the ice.”Her face is animated, eyes bright.“That was really cool.”She pauses.“You worked hard.”

“Yeah.It felt good.”

We stand eyeing each other, me sweaty and stinky in my gear, her golden and bright, separated by plexiglass.She’s never going to use my number that I gave her.I want to push...you don’t get what you wish for...but I don’t.

“Well,” I finally say.“I better go shower.”

She tips her head to one side.“Is everything okay?”

I frown.“Why do you ask that?”

“I don’t know...you just seem...different.”

Huh.Different.“I got some bad news yesterday.I’m dealing with it.”

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