Page 43 of The Trade Deadline
“Politics,” he settled on. It was vague enough he didn’t have to out himself or call out anyone, but it was admitting Ryan was right to suspect there was more to his move across the country.
Ryan nodded in acceptance. “Sucks.”
The broadcast changed to another team, then another, and they stood there watching. Eventually it got to the Austin Rangers, and it tickled an old memory.
“Didn’t they draft you?” He waited until Ryan grunted. “How many teams have you been on?”
Ryan shoved his hands into the pockets of his joggers, fists obviously clenched. “Five, plus an AHL team.”
“Wow.” Lars had no idea if that was a good thing or not, or if it’d even been his choice for any of it. “Do you miss any of them?”
“No. I mean, I would’ve stayed at any of them if they’d kept me, but once they traded me…” He made a noise, one that Lars couldn’t easily interpret but that held a bitter edge.
“And you enjoy when they lose?”
“I wouldn’t sayenjoy,but I don’t shed any tears when they get knocked out of the playoffs.”
Lars nudged him with his shoulder. “Bet you enjoy it when they can’t kill a penalty and they realize what they lost.”
Ryan blushed ever so slightly but rolled his eyes. “I get scored on plenty.”
“You really don’t. And what about that pass you sent me up the boards? Perfect angle, perfect speed. If I have to corral that puck, I don’t score. I promise, only an idiot would think you weren’t one of the best players on the Crabs. Or in the league,” he added. “You’re top tier in face-offs and PK.”
The real problem was that Ryan wasn’t flashy and he was given the hard minutes: the defensive zone starts, the penalty kills, the batten-down-the-hatches situations that were 100% necessary and easily overlooked. Those contributions didn’t make the highlight reels, and if they did, they didn’t resonate with viewers as much as a goal or spectacular save. Defensemen tended to have the same issues getting recognition, with only their goalie appreciating their work.
It didn’t help that Ryan would never own his own successes. Maybe Lars could help him work on that.
“You don’t have to say that,” Ryan said after a long pause, “but I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. And I’ll keep saying it until everyone believes me.”
“It might take a while. I’m pretty forgettable.” More than just his complete belief that it was true, there was something icy in the way he said it.
Before Lars could figure out how he might thaw Ryan’s self image, a few of the guys from the team came by.
“Look what we sniped from Jake’s bag,” Bergsy said he waggled his eyebrows and waved a deck of cards at them. “Wanna play?”
“Poker?” Lars asked while bracing himself for disappointment. He hated poker.
“Nah, man,” Johnny said. “No fun without chips. We’re gonna play Go Fish. You guys in?”
“Sure.” Ryan clapped a hand on Lars’s shoulder and started steering him back to the waiting area and away from the wall of TVs. “I call dealer.”
* * *
In the locker room after practice in Calgary, Lars was plotting how to ask Ryan out for drinks again. Was it better to suggest the hotel lobby? Or get a group of them to go out together and then just monopolize his time? They’d sat next to each other on the plane again, and on every bus ride, and Lars enjoyed knowing who he’d be with. They didn’t watch anything or share music, but they’d talked or enjoyed each other’s silence. Lars hadn’t realized he’d missed that kind of easy friendship; it was so satisfying, he could ignore his other feelings.
As he was about to work up the nerve to ask, Ryan rudely spoke first.
“We’ll be in Montana in a few days.” He stood at the entry to the locker room, facing the whole team. “You know what that means,” he said, a declaration that was greeted with cheers that Lars didn’t understand. “Let me know if you can get tickets. I really appreciate it, so thanks in advance.”
Then he started canvassing the benches asking who would be getting tickets and then coordinating what sounded like a bar excursion with those who said yes. By the time Ryan made it over to him, Lars gathered that Ryan wanted other players on the team to acquire tickets to their upcoming game versus the Montana Mustangs, and in exchange Ryan would buy the tickets and take the team out for drinks in Billings after the game. What Lars didn’t understand was why.
All NHL teams allowed players from visiting teams to purchase tickets, but the limit was two per player. Lars could imagine needing a couple more, but the sheer number boggled his mind.
“You wouldn’t be willing to help me get tickets, would you?” he asked Lars. “I think I’ve got…” (He did some math on his fingers.) “...fourteen so far.”
“Fourteen?” he blurted out. “Why do you need so many?”
