Page 16 of Keeping the Score

“Perfect. I’ll try that.”

Dilly makes a retching noise. I ignore him.

“That sounds disgusting,” Smitty says.

I ignore him, too.

“How’d your training go this summer?” Dilly asks me. “How’s that new trainer?”

“He’s great.” I nod enthusiastically. “He has a whole different philosophy and I really like it.”

“What is it?” Smitty asks.

“He’s basically rewired my brain.”

Dilly laughs. “Finally someone has.”

I grin. “Seriously.” I tell them more about Victor and the exercises he has me doing. “We worked on them over and overuntil my brain just does them now. He doesn’t just look at just the athletic side of things but the artistic side.”

They all look at me like I just said I want to jump off the Statue of Liberty.

“I’m not just a machine,” I tell them.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Are you sure?”

“I get it,” Mabel says. “Hockey’s not just physical. It’s mental. It’s not just analytical and scientific; there’s an artistry to it.”

“Hockey is not an art,” Smitty says to his sister.

“I’ll argue with you about that,” she says.

Mabel’s got her quirks, too. I like her. We’ve kind of gotten to be friends since she moved here.

“What’s the definition of art?” she asks her brother.

“I don’t know. Art. Creation.”

“Hang on.” She grabs her phone. “Okay, here it is. It’s the expression of human creative skill and imagination to produce a work that is appreciated primarily for its beauty or emotional power.” She looks up from the phone. “See? Hockey is beautiful to watch. Also you guys make people feel a lot of emotion. Think of the fans!”

Smitty snorts. “I think they’re talking about painting, or sculpture.”

“Sure, that too,” she says calmly. “I stand by my argument.”

“She’s right,” I say.

Mabel reaches across the table for a fist bump.

“Anyway, the point is that I’m not just a machine. I’m an athlete, but I have a craft. So do all of us.” I lift my chin.

“I’m not convinced,” Dilly says. “But okay.”

“It’s really changed my game,” I add.

I see the skeptical looks on their faces, but I don’t care. I’ll show them once training camp starts. I can’t wait.

“Are you still doing martial arts?” Mabel asks.

“Yeah. I went to the dojo twice a week over the summer.”

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