Page 13 of The New Guy
“Fellas, listen up!” Henry says, clapping his hands together. “I’d like to introduce you to Gavin Gillis. He joins the training staff today as my right-hand man.”
The players all turn to listen, and O’Doul leans down and turns the Bluetooth speaker off.
The sudden silence is deep.
“Thanks, guys,” Henry says. “Gavin joins us as senior training staff. He’s never worked in hockey before, but that doesn’t matter. His last full-time position was at the University of New Hampshire, where he worked with their D1 men’s soccer team, as well as with the women’s tennis team…”
I lose the thread of what Henry is saying, because I’m still staring at Gavin. He stands tall at Henry’s side. He’s wearing the half-smile of someone who’s being forced to hear praise about himself and doesn’t quite know what to do with it. As I watch, he makes eye contact with each player in the room, one at a time.
He gets to me last, though, because I’m on the floor, in the corner. When his eyes find me, he does a quick double take. His surprise is muted, though. On his second pass, he looks directly at me and does the world’s quickest nod.
I forget to breathe, and my vision tunnels.
This can’t be happening. He’s atrainer? He’ll be here every damn day. He knows things about me that nobody else knows.
And if he really wants to be a dick about it, my privacy could be shattered before the puck drops tonight.
Even if he’s not a dick, it’s still going to be awkward.
So fucking awkward.
I force some air into my lungs and try to stem my panic.
But this is bad.
So, so bad.
FIVE
Gavin
This isthe moment I’ve been dreading.
Sure enough, Hudson Newgate is scowling at me from the corner, as if I’ve done something wrong by showing up here.
Sorry, pal. It’s not my fault.
Let the record show that he sat down beside me on that barstool.
Henry drones on, and I try to keep my cool. First days are always awkward. In this job you have to meet new faces all the time, though. You have to gain people’s trust so they’ll tell you their troubles, and also relax when you put your hands on their bodies.
I’m good at my job, damn it. I have every right to be here. Once I settle in, he’ll get used to the idea.
When Henry is finished introducing me, we leave the weight room and settle into the training room. It’s a big operation, and there’s a lot to learn. Athletes wander in and out, and I watch Henry work on knees and ankles. I pull files for each athlete, and make notes, and make conversation.
My head is spinning, but that’s just first day stuff.
Hudson Newgate does not turn up, though. And a trainer on the first day does not have a discreet way to pull an athlete aside for a private conversation. The main training room is a busy place, with multiple conversations in progress at any given moment, and athletes lurking nearby, waiting their turn.
Heck—that first day I can barely navigate the labyrinth of Brooklyn’s deluxe practice facility. It’s actually two facilities—the male and female athletes have separate floors of the building.
And I spend a solid hour signing personnel forms, and getting my new K-Tech phone. “Everyone who works for the organization has one,” says Heidi Jo, the GM’s assistant. “And there’s an app for the medical system that Henry uses to track player injuries.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
It’s a lot to learn. And when I get back down to the training room, I start skimming through case files, and memorizing every player’s name.
As for Hudson Newgate, the files say that he’s supposed to be seeing the training staff today for ongoing treatment of bursitis. But he’s a no-show. A ghost.
