Page 96 of Forever Wild
He glances over at me with a contemplative gaze. “And nobody needs some time off more than you.”
“You can’t even be consistent with your own advice,” I tell him, smiling at the way his mustache turns up with the corner of his mouth. “I had plenty of time off this summer.”
“People need different things at different points in their life.”
“And what I need right now is the beach?”
“You’re young and in the best shape of your life. Enjoy it. You need more than hockey. I hoped that the accident would help you see that. It’s just a game, Son. A damn great one, but it takes everything and gives very little back.”
We watch in silence as the high school coaches put the kids through some skating drills. Coach is right. They look sloppy, but there are a few kids that have some natural ability if they’re willing to work hard to hone it.
The high school coach blows a whistle and the guys head to the bench for a break.
Coach turns to me. “What’s on your mind, Jackie?”
I’d all but talked myself out of asking him the very question I drove two hours to ask, but his prompting is the push I need.
“Do you think your life would be very different if you’d been drafted?”
If he’s surprised by the random question, he doesn’t show it. He falls quiet, thinking for a few moments, choosing his words carefully.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “I guess I might have ended up settling down somewhere else, but I have a feeling you’re asking about more than location.”
“Sometimes I wonder about my dad. If he’d stayed, would he have been better off?”
Coach and Dad were friends from their own high school days. They played on a championship team together. Dad got drafted and Coach didn’t.
Is it possible that one choice can alter the course of our lives so drastically or would he be the same man regardless?
“Your dad was too talented not to go. He would have regretted it. That much I know.”
“Yeah, but what if he hadn’t been good at the sport or put so much emphasis on being a great hockey player. What if he had wanted to be an engineer?”
Coach chuckles quietly, which sends a flare of irritation through me.
“Forget it. It doesn’t matter,” I say.
After a few beats of silence, Coach starts to talk again. “Life is a series of decisions. Some are bigger than others, but every choice builds on the next. Sometimes we make decisions that feel small in the moment and have big impacts on our life. Other times they only feel big in the moment.”
“So it doesn’t matter if he was drafted or not, eventually he would have found himself in the same position?” I ask.
“The good thing about choices is we can always make another one. What you do today is more important than yesterday.”
“What if you don’t know which choice is right?”
“You’re my greatest success story. Not that I can take much credit for you. The first time I saw you, I knew it. More talent in your left foot than kids twice your age had in their whole body. You were always determined to succeed or burn the world down trying. You had a natural talent, but your ambition and work ethic made you who you are. That’s not something that can be taught.”
“I wasn’t talking about me.”
“Weren’t you though?” He turns his attention to me. “I’ve found most of the time it’s less about knowing what is right or wrong and more about being brave enough to do what’s in our heart. Start there.”
I swallow around the lump forming in my throat.
“I never would have made it anywhere without you. Your decision to coach saved me.” I mean those words. I owe him everything. He’sfamily. The only one I’ve ever been able to depend on.
“You would have still found a way to be successful. You’re too stubborn to fail.” He stands and rests a hand on my shoulder. “And that goes beyond hockey. There’s a whole lot more to enjoy. Take a chance. Let someone past that barricade you’ve had up all these years. Though I think maybe that’s what’s got you so mixed-up. Love will do that.”
I snort a laugh. Love? Though my chest aches like it has a permanent hole in it. Everly and I weren’t in love, we were just…not done. It feels like we’re not done yet.
