Page 102 of Zero Pucks Given
I was starting to understand the appeal of a long-term relationship.
The next night, I was at the arena doing my warm-ups with the rest of the team before the game. There was a nervous energy among us, but we were all excited, too. Eager to get out there and fight for a chance to advance to the next round.
There were many different kinds of team captains in the league. I rarely gave speeches; I preferred to flex my leadership on the ice, where it was really needed. But tonight felt different. This was a pivotal game for our fledgling franchise, and the stakes were so much higher than any individual game.
Tonight, our future would be written.
In the locker room before lineups were announced, I cleared my throat and stood up on a bench to address the team. Everyone slowly turned to face me, surprised by what I was doing.
“Oh fuck,” Mason whispered to someone else. “Grayson’s gonnagive a speech!”
“I don’t do this often, and with good reason,” I said loudly, my voice carrying across the room. “We’re about to play game seven. The pressure is higher than normal. The fans out there? They’re going to be louder, angrier, more intense. Every second of game footage that is recorded tonight will later be scrutinized by the teams of nerds that work in analytics. But no matter what happens, whether we win or lose, whether it’s a close game or a blowout, I want you to know one thing. Just one thing.”
I paused for dramatic effect while gazing around the room.
“I’m proud of each and every one of you. I feel incredibly lucky to wear the same uniform as you, and I’m honored to call you my teammates. Even Mason.”
That drew a few chuckles.
“I’ll be proud of you no matter what,” I reiterated. Then I allowed a slow smile to spread across my face. “But I’ll be really fucking happy if we destroy these Alberta fuckheads on their home goddamn ice!LET’S FUCKING GO.”
Everyone pumped their fists and cheered, and patted my back as I hopped down and returned to my locker. It felt inadequate. I wasn’t good at speeches. But it seemed to have done the job.
“Five minutes until lineups!” one of the assistants shouted. “Be ready!”
I sat in front of my locker and switched out of my warmup jersey and into the game jersey. When I looked up, Mason was standing next to me with a giftwrapped box in his hand. The tag said, “Open Before Game Seven.”
“The fuck is this?”
“A present. Duh,” Mason replied.
I took the box from his hand and tossed it into the locker. It was heavier than I expected. “I told you. I don’t want any gifts for being your roommate. At least wait until the season is over.”
“That’s not from me, Captain,” Mason replied. “It’s from the only other person on the planet who tolerates your grumpy-ass attitude.”
I realized who he meant, and quickly reached into my locker to retrieve the gift.
“You know, it kind of hurts how dismissive you were when you thought it was from me, and how excited you are now that you know it’s from Josie.”
“She’s hotter than you,” I replied while tearing open the paper.
“An extremely valid point.”
Inside the box was a jar of JIF peanut butter, and a package of Reese’s Cups. The Easter kind that were shaped like eggs. There was a tiny little card inside, which I unfolded to reveal a few handwritten words.
Hope you’re not allergic.
Mason was leaning forward to look into the box. “Kind of a weird gift.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’re not supposed to.”
He pointed. “I really hope the jar of peanut butter isn’t a sex thing.”
I glared at him, which sent him running away to his own locker.
