Page 116 of Puck with Karma
“Mr. Hamilton,” one of the other attorneys in the room speaks up. “I have a feeling you’re not the type of person who likes pauses for dramatic effect.” He chuckles, sounding like the douchebag I imagine him to be. “So I am going to cut straight to the chase.”
I decide to throw them a bone and speak. “Please do.”
“The Minnesota Cats organization prides itself on not just the professional hockey team, but also the name it made for itself within the community. That requires professionalism and good personal ethics from all its employees, players included.”
He stops talking, waiting for me to acknowledge that I understand what he is telling me.
“I thought you were going to cut straight to the chase,” I remind him.
Long pause again, papers shuffling, voices whispering. They told me what they were dying to, but they are not done with me.
“You went to Brandon Karlsberg’s residence in the city and proceeded to start a fight with him. Is that correct?” Laura Cantor takes the lead again.
“Sounds like you already know it all.”
My voice sounds sharp and unforgiving this time. I have no control over anything at this point, so I might as well ride it out.
“Mr. Hamilton,” Laura sighs into the phone. “During our last conversation, you were informed that you only needed one incident before you are off the team. No questions asked.”
I clear my throat but don’t say a word.
“Now, there are videos of you floating all over the internet. They put not just your reputation at risk, but also the reputation of the Minnesota Cats.”
Another pause, and this time, it annoys me.
“Get to the fucking point.”
“Due to multiple incidents that showed questionable behavior on your part, you are being released from your contract, essentially put on waivers, effective immediately.”
There, I finally hear the words I expected to hear.
“Anything else?”
“Per the contract, you will be paid for what would’ve been the remainder of your contract, but you will not be playing for or representing the Minnesota Cats organization.”
While I did expect this kind of news, now that I got it, it drops like a piece of lead in my stomach. I am being released from my contract. I have nowhere to go, no job to go back to.
She spits some more legal jargon at me, but I don’t pay attention. Instead, I focus on the pain I feel at the thought that I won’t be able to play hockey professionally anymore. It is not the relief I’d been chasing for months now. It is just pure dread.
“Your health insurance will continue for the next six months. You have until the end of the season to vacate the apartment you currently occupy in the Cats building. Paperwork to that effect will be mailed to you right away…”
In my head, I try to formulate a plan. I wonder if Abby will still want me if I don’t play anymore. If I don’t have a job.
“Mr. Hamilton, one last thing,” Laura cuts into my thoughts, but I’ve had enough. I disconnect the call and drop the phone in my lap.
I’m not sure how much time passes. I don’t move from my spot on the bed, just staring at the wall ahead of me, wondering what my life has come to. In my head, I can hear my father yelling at me.
You are nothing without me.
You ruined your life for a woman.
You have no future playing hockey.
No other team will touch you now.
You’ll be alone for the rest of your life.
My hands ball into tight fists, clenching the hospital bedding, its rough material oddly comforting on my skin. I don’t understand why I feel so lost at the thought that I truly am off the team. I’ve been practically begging for it for months now, if not years.
