Page 86 of Zero Pucks Given
When our team played well, it was the greatest feeling in the world. There were happy vibes in the locker room and at practice. My legs felt fresh and the stick was weightless in my hands. My teammates were friendly, laughing and teasing each other like they didn’t have a care in the world.
But when we were losing? Shitsucked.
There was an awkward silence in the locker room after the game. My teammates bickered on the bus to the airport, then argued about who got to sit where on the flight back to Texas. Our coach chewed us out, individually and as a group, like we were his own personal punching bag. Mason took it quietly, but our goaltender got into a shouting match with the coach and then smashed a laptop against the bulkhead of the plane.
The flight was real quiet after that.
Eventually, the mood got to me and I stood up to address the plane. “Tonight sucked. No getting around it. But it’s only one game. If you had told me a week ago that we would split the first two games against the best team in the Western Conference, I would havecelebrated. Let’s not lose sight of the big picture. We’re in a great position going forward, especially with the next two games at home. So pick your fucking heads up.”
I was usually good at giving the team encouragement, but it didn’t seem to work tonight. If anything, my teammates seemed annoyed that I had spoken. Even Mason remained silent in the seat next to mine, his arms crossed while he watched a movie on his laptop.
I wondered if they blamed me for the loss. It wasn’t all on my shoulders, but Ihadplayed like shit tonight. That was how things worked when you were the captain of the team: you got too much credit when you won, and too much blame when you lost.
To channel some of my frustration, I put my headphones on and selected an angry playlist. Rage Against the Machine and Limp Bizkit had been helping me deal with tough losses since I was a teenager.
But what I really wanted was to see Josie. To take solace in her comforting embrace, and to lose ourselves in the mindless drive of our bodies. It was too bad she wasn’t flying home until tomorrow. I knew she was working the Spurs basketball game tomorrow night, but maybe she would want to come over afterward.
I wanted to text her, but it was three in the morning when we landed. By the time I got home, I was so tired that I passed out the moment my head hit the pillow.
I woke around noon to a media shitstorm. Or rather, Mason bombarded me with the news the moment I walked into the kitchen.
“Dude. Everything is terrible,” was the first thing he told me.
“It would be better if you let me get some coffee first,” I grumbled.
Mason blocked my path and showed me his iPad. “No. Thatwon’tmake it better.”
He caught me up on everything that had happened while I was sleeping. Apparently, Alberta had its own paparazzi, and they had been following me while we were in Edmonton. Snapping photos of my dates with Josie and blowing things out of proportion.
“Bob says you need to call him ASAP,” Mason said.
“Why didn’t he tell me himself?”
“He tried, but you keep your phone on silent when you’re sleeping. He wanted me to wake you up three hours ago, but I know better than to barge into your room when you’re sleeping.”
“Smart man. I would’ve snapped your neck.”
Mason nodded solemnly. “That’s exactly what I told Bob.”
I allowed myself to enjoy a cup of coffee before I called the Marketing Director. He told me to relax and let the story die down.
“I just want to focus on hockey,” I replied.
“Yes! Exactly. If anyone contacts you, tell them that.”
“It’s the truth. Not everything is a marketing angle, Bob.”
Bob grunted. “Trust me, Grayson:everythingin this world is marketing.”
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. “Josie’s been blowing up my phone about this. I’ll call her back and relay the news to her.”
“No!” Bob snapped.
“Why not?”
“You don’t know who she’s talked to,” Bob warned. “For all we know,shewas the one to go sell her story to TMZ.”
“I can promise you that’s not true.”
