Page 97 of The Trade Deadline
Better than that: it wasfun. Remove the stakes—this game didn’t affect their stats, didn’t have to do with standings points, had no bearing on whether or not the Crabs wanted to re-sign him—and it turned out he still really liked playing hockey. Heespeciallyliked playing with Lars.
It was magic.
They ended their game against the Atlantic 10-4, all three of them with two goals. They weren’t able to get anyone a hat trick because once they were close enough, they kept passing and passing, no one willing to take the shot. It was one of the rare times where no one was selfish enough.
They had two hours before they played the winner of the Western Conference game, and everyone was hydrating and eating snacks. The three of them had migrated to three stalls in the corner, otherwise apart from their other teammates. Ryan couldn’t stop smiling because this was just too surreal and he kinda loved it.
“Who has the least hat tricks?” Anders asked as he handed them both protein bars.
“Career?” Lars asked. “I’ve got twelve.”
“No playoffs,” Anders chided. “I have four.”
“Fine,” Lars grumbled. “Ten.”
And Ryan was again reminded that he didn’t fit in with elite company.
“One,” he said, then was so embarrassed that he added, “I had a few in the AHL, but only one NHL hat trick.”
“That’s—” Lars started, but was immediately cut off.
“How long were you in the AHL?” Anders interrupted.
Ryan’s shoulders tensed. “Almost a full season.”
“Less than a season and you scored several hat tricks?” Anders asked with a raised eyebrow. “How many?”
Ryan made a face. It had been a huge blow to be drafted, play two games, then get moved to the AHL farm team. It shouldn’t have mattered—it was an important part of player development—but the team had made it clear when they’d moved him that he wouldn’t be coming back up that season, period. After that brief taste of the NHL, moving down had been almost too easy. It’d been below his skill level, but he’d unfortunately found little on-ice support from his team. Granted, it’d been a better fit for his confidence level.
“I don’t know.” He knew. “Like two or three?” It’d been six.
“What team drafted you?”
Ryan looked to Lars, who had dropped out of the conversation. He nodded at him to answer.
“Rangers.”
Anders made a noise that sounded almost like a growl and spit out something in Swedish.
“No cursing around Anton,” Lars drawled, and Anders threw a guilty look over his shoulder: Anton was distracted with the goalies.
“The Rangers are shit with development,” Anders said, his voice a normal volume except when he said “shit.” “They’ve ruined plenty of good players. Good for you that you got out of that organization. Lillen, you remember Henrik?”
Lars scowled at the nickname. “Yes.”
“One of my best friends from Juniors. Drafted the year after me by Austin. Completely ruined his career by constantly moving him up and down, no notice. He lost all his confidence and had no stability to improve his game. Got a few single-year contracts around the league but retired early.”
“Oh.” Ryan had never considered that his early struggles in his career were because of the team that was responsible for developing him and not simply because he wasn’t good enough. “I can’t complain too much. Won the Calder Cup that year. The Rangers didn’t even make the playoffs.”
Anders’s eyes glinted with enjoyment, making him look so suddenly like Lars that Ryan had to focus on his crooked nose and the freckles and all the other little differences.
“Good for you. You are fortunate that you got that opportunity and they didn’t stop you from continuing to play. The Crabs are…” He made a face that made it clear he was trying to be diplomatic. “They are rebuilding well, I think. Good addition this summer. Just need a few more pieces to be a contender.”
“Hey!” Lars interrupted. “We havetwoAll Stars! We’re already contenders!”
Anders merely waved his brother’s protests aside. “Tell me that in April,” he said without so much as looking at Lars. “You are doing well with them this year. We will get you a hat trick next game. Better than an NHL hat trick, since so few players get the chance to play in this game.”
Lars, who looked about ready to start yelling at his brother, immediately perked up. “Yes! We’ll get Ryan a hat trick to win this stupid tournament!”
