Page 2 of Snowballed

In other words, recruiting. Probably talking to families with younger siblings, since all the draft year players would already be committed to teams.

Chi nudges me, and I introduce her to Coach Keller.

“Oh, I know you of course,” he says. “You’re on the national team radar.”

She tries not to smile. Chi’s big dream is to make the U.S. women’s hockey team, and while she’s been close, it hasn’t happened yet. Adam’s a winner, but Chi and I are runners-up—that’s what my dad would say anyway. But at least Chi still has a chance.

“Where are you headed?” he asks us.

“Just back to the hotel,” I say.

“Maybe a little shopping,” Chi adds, because there are many stores on our walk back, and she loves the stylish Montreal boutiques.

“Got time for coffee and a chat?” he asks me.

I look over at Chi, and she nods. “I’ll be fine. See you at the hotel.”

Coach Keller leads the way to a nearby coffee shop. He gets a coffee, but I get a water. Even though it’s summer, I’m still in training. The only seat for two is by the front window where we get to watch the parade of humanity walk by.

“Pretty big day for your brother,” he says.

“Yeah. Adam’s worked hard. He deserves it.” It’s my automatic answer, but it sounds fake as it comes out. Who knows better than a college hockey coach that hard work doesn’t always bring results? Because I’ve worked my ass off my whole life and kept my focus on hockey. Some guys call me robotic behind my back because I’m so dedicated. But what has all that hard work achieved? Here I am—the brother of a guy who got drafted.

Coach is watching me. He’s a smart guy, but I hope he doesn’t perceive my toxic mix of emotions. I love Adam, and feeling jealousy and resentment burns my guts.

“Let me get right down to it,” Coach says. “We talked about you coming to Burlington to play your final year of Div 1 hockey. I know it’s late, but my offer is still open. You’re doing grad studies in education, and we’ve got an excellent program. Besides, it’s a chance for a fresh start, playing hockey in a place where hockey is king. Not like those sunbelt markets.”

I wince because that’s true. At Arizona State, we get good crowds, but we’re new and an anomaly. When our team goes on the road, I get to see what real college hockey fanatics are like. But Coach Keller’s offer is ridiculous. I’ve played at Arizona State my whole college career. My dad flies in to see games once or twice a month, and he’s good friends with the coach. My future is already set. I’m going to finish my hockey career, get my education degree, and start working at my dad’s hockey academy. The only acceptable detour would be playing hockey in Europe.

Coach keeps talking. “I could really use a guy like you, a mobile defenseman who can score. And you’ve got excellent leadership and teaching skills too, I’ve got some young guys who would really benefit from playing with you.”

There’s still no way, but his flattery is nice to hear. It’s been a long time since anyone said that they needed my hockey skills. Sure, my coach and teammates in Arizona appreciate me, but I’m so reliable that I get taken for granted.

The sales pitch continues. “No disrespect, but for your last year of college hockey, wouldn’t it be nice to play on a team that has a chance to get to the Frozen Four? We won two years ago. And we’ve still got some of those players.”

That’s true. ASU is still developing. In fact, even my dad wondered if I’d show better in a top hockey school. But since he works hard to develop hockey in new markets, the Arizona program fits with that vision. Being close, my dad could be more hands-on with my career and Adam’s.

As if reading my mind, Coach Keller adds, “Burlington is a chance to be your own man.”

He doesn’t even mention my father, but we both know. When your father is a legendary NHL defenseman, everything you do gets you compared to him. And so far, I’ve come up short.

There’s a brief silence as we watch the crowd and sip our drinks. This is a ridiculous offer. Why on earth would I change my plans at the last minute and travel completely across the country to play one year of hockey? Vermont is as far as I could get from my home in Los Angeles without leaving the country. I know no one there, and I know zero about the university. It’s insane.

Yet something inside me stirs. The idea of being far from family pressure and expectation shimmers like a restful oasis.

“Okay, I’ll come to Burlington,” I say. The words sit in space for a moment like neither of us can believe them.

“Really?” Even Coach Keller looks shocked at his success.

“Yeah. I want a change.” For some reason, I trust him. This offer feels good to me. Lots of coaches tried to recruit me out of high school, but he’s the only one who suggested a transfer when he heard I was doing grad school.

He grins. His smile looks a bit rusty. like he doesn’t use it much. He’s going to be a tough coach, but that’s fine. He pulls out his phone and makes a few notes. “That’s great. I’ll contact the Master of Education program, get all the paperwork done, and send it to you. And I’ll let the team know the good news.” He’s smart, setting things in motion right away so that I can’t weasel out. But I won’t. For the first time today, I feel like I can breathe.

The coach shakes my hand. “Well, I better get back, make sure I don’t miss any of my players.”

He leaves, and I watch his quick stride as he goes back to the arena. Back to recruit and strengthen his team—my new team now, the Burlington Bulls.

As I’m walking back to the hotel, I see Chi ahead of me. She’s already got two shopping bags. I speed up and catch her at a red light.

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