Page 26 of Hockey 101

She huffs, Damn. Why do you all say the same things?

I consider this. I dunno. Guess we’re copying what NHL players say.

Andy blows out a frustrated raspberry. Most people love being interviewed. Unless they’re hiding something.

I try to hide my smile—I can’t help it, annoyed Andy is adorable.

Yeah, but put yourself in our shoes. We’re all extremely competitive, and we just lost our game. All we want to do is shower and move on, but then you come in and make us explain why we lost. Maybe that’s your job, but if we knew how we could have won, we would have done that.

She nods slowly, like I’ve said something really important. Is there a point in the game where you know how things will turn out? Whether you’ll win or lose?

I consider her question. Usually there’s no way to tell. Sure, we want it, but so does the other team. But there are also nights when everything’s clicking. We feel really good. Maybe not a guaranteed win, but close.

There are more people around as we near the pub. I step forward to open the door for Andy. It’s always busy here after a game, but there’s a section reserved for us. People I don’t even know holler out to me and wave as we pass.

Andy doesn’t notice and keeps asking me questions. But do losses really bother you that much? It’s just a game. And you have many more to go.

Her questions are basic, but they make me think. Back home, nobody would ever ask why hockey is important. In Canada, hockey rules.

You can’t take a night off. Maybe it’s an exhibition game or whatever, but you can’t make excuses. Bring your best game every night or you’ll lose your edge, your concentration. One of my coaches said that there are two kinds of players: ones who love to win and ones who hate to lose.

She’s watching me, wide-eyed. Hockey is a whole new world for her. Which one are you?

I hate to lose. It’s not that I don’t love winning and the joy in the room afterwards, but I really hate that nagging sensation that I could have done more. That’s why I need to give everything on every shift.

That’s surprising. You seem like a pretty easy-going person, she observes.

I went through a phase of beating myself up after every loss, but then I figured out that it was easier to go hard during the game than to feel guilty after. Sure, I learn from every game, but I try to leave the losses at the arena. Besides, meeting my girlfriend after games would be the perfect distraction. Of course, Andy’s not my girlfriend yet, but she is distracting.

You surprise me, she says.

That has to be a good thing, because she didn’t like me at all before. I take the opportunity to turn the conversation to her.

What about you? What are the things you’re passionate about?

Getting a newspaper job after I graduate. Her answer sounds rehearsed.

Is that really a passion though? I ask.

We slide into a booth by ourselves since she needs to work. I watch her forehead crinkle as she really considers my question.

Maybe travel? I’ve never really gone anywhere, but I have a list of places I want to visit. I’m always bookmarking interesting hotels and restaurants. I have a passport, but I’ve never used it.

Have you never even been to Canada? I ask.

She shakes her head. No offence, but if I leave the country, I’d rather go somewhere more exciting, like Europe. Besides, aren’t the Canadian Prairies a lot like the Midwest?

I imagine taking Andy home to Saskatchewan. Maybe not in the coldest part of winter, but it’s so great—the wide prairie, the endless sky, the friendly people. We could go horseback riding on the ranch or visit my favourite park, Wanuskewin.

I’m pulled out of my reverie as Andy pulls out her notebook and her laptop. Sorry to be antisocial, but I have to finish this story. I don’t want to take up your whole evening.

No, it’s my fault for sidetracking us. I want to understand Andy and what she’s passionate about. Because apparently, I’m pretending that this is a date. While you’re working, I’ll go up and order. Do you want a drink or something to eat? I ask.

Her concentration is so total that she doesn’t even hear my question, so I leave her to it. I join my teammates at the bar and order my dinner. We talk about tomorrow night’s game, which is across the border in Wisconsin. The best thing to do after a loss is to put it behind us and focus on the next game.

Your date is a lot of fun, Schmidty comments. We all turn to see Andy, who is now wearing noise-cancelling headphones and typing on her laptop so fast that it looks like she’s faking.

She has a nice rack, says Bergy, and my jaw clenches. Having seen Andy in a tight T-shirt, she does have a great body, but I don’t like hearing Bergy say so.

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