Page 33 of From Ice to Grace
“Do I get a say in any of this?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but my ego prods me to ask anyway.
“No,” he says. “Don’t screw this up, Murphy.”
“Harry,” I stop him before he ends the call. The image of Brodin’s head whipping back as I elbowed him in the face, flashing in my mind. He hit the ice pretty hard, and he stayed down. No matter the check he gave on Lindgren, that was a step too far. “What’s going on with Brodin?”
There’s a second of silence. Then two and three.
“So far he’s being checked for concussion. Out until further notice,” Harry says, his voice level. “Listen, it’s done. All you can do now is damage control. Tonight, you show up and you do and say the right things to the right people.”
I nod along even though he can’t see me.
The line goes dead and I’m left staring at the phone.
“What did he say?” Lindgren asks, handing me the shake that’s now completely useless to me. “Is it bad?”
Taking a sip, I wince and hand it back to him. The taste of banana and raw egg goes sour in my mouth as I watch the expectant look on Lindgren’s face. Part of me thinks he might be the only one who thinks this will turn out positive in some way.
“I’m out for eight games.” I drop onto the couch, let my head fall back and stare at the ceiling like the answers to all my problems might be found up there. “Harry’s about one breath away from spontaneous combustion.”
“Eight games?” Lindgren sounds borderline panicked. “What are we going to do without you for eight games?”
“Well, apparently Harry has that part covered. They’re flying in some other defenseman who’s better at staying out of trouble.”
“You’re kidding,” Lindgren says, a frown on his face. “He can’t do that.”
“He can and he is.”
I get up from my seat, the need to hit something or someone burning inside of me. I just got out of the gym, but I feel ready to head back. Or maybe I should just go for a run and stop when I’ve figured out how I got to this point.
“We need you on the ice. The team doesn’t function the same without you and Mitch, you know this. How does Harry expect us to win a game when our defense is shot?”
I ignore his panic attack. At least he’ll be on the ice to try and do something about it, along with the other defensive pairs who’ll just have to step it up. I’m the one who’s not even allowed to attend practice, not allowed to put on my jersey. I should consider myself lucky that Harry even wants me to attend the charity dinner tonight.
Although knowing him, it’s part of my punishment.
“And Brodin?” Lindgren asks.
“Out until further notice.” I rub my temples, the pain in my head getting worse. “Concussion protocol.”
Lindgren grimaces. “That’s bad.”
He moves into my field of sight, his light hair and friendly demeanour overwhelming as he flashes me a smile.
“But we’ve all been there right?” he says, trying to lighten the mood but only succeeding in adding to my already giant mountain of frustration.
His words light a fuse. “You’ve been suspended for taking someone’s head off mid-play? Had another player carted off the ice and your GM threaten to chain you to a PR handler for the rest of the season?” A laugh escapes me. “That’s if your GM doesn’t do good on the threat to trade you to another team before then.”
“Well, no?—”
“So no, then.” I turn my back on him, on the expression on his face as I head to my room. “Appreciate the pep talk, though.”
I need a shower. Perhaps the water will wash away everything along with the smell of disappointment that seems to stick to me.
I knew going after Brodin would be a bad call. But in that moment, when I made the choice to go for the hit…it was like my mind was blank. The only thing that was in front of me was a chance to take control of something, and I did.
I didn’t think that in doing so, I’m taking control of my own downfall.
Fines and suspensions follow you around your entire career. Every time they write about me now, they’ll pull up these headlines. They’ll remind everyone about my past mistakes. Every time contracts are negotiated, I’ll have to answer questions about my tendency toward aggression.
