Page 14 of Riding Pine
“Okay, fellas, I have one last thing to tell you.” Coach Nix claps his hands for our attention. He’s a new coach, and most of us don’t know much about him, but so far he seems like a coach you can talk to about the stuff that bothers you. He projects an aura that he understands there’s more to life than hockey, and that’s what we need. Not a bunch of suits worrying about the image of the team and ignoring the health of their players to make a buck.
When the conversation dies down and Coach has the group’s attention again, he continues. “The ownership is trying something different this year to get people in seats for games. While the season ticket sales haven’t grown much, they’re hoping to appealto families more this year. Make it a family outing kind of thing.” He clears his throat with a small laugh. “This year we’ll have a mascot at the games.”
The team laughs, and Coach hits the slideshow. A giant animated beaver is projected on the screen, and we all fall silent. The name Slappy screams in bright green letters that ripple on the screen above the beaver. It holds a bundle of hockey sticks made to look like tree twigs in its paw and smiles. Well, as much as you can call what a beaver does smiling.
I look around the room to see what my teammates think about this.
Most of the players have blank expressions, maybe preferring not to say anything. Some of them just look bored, and a few have smirks. Then there’s me. Raising my hand like I’m back in grade school because it almost feels like I should. The graphics are geared toward families with kids, but…
“With all due respect, Coach, but was there a process to name the mascot and choose what animal it was? Like… was there a marketing team involved? Even a little?”
Coach nods, and bless him, he tries not to show his thoughts, but it’s right there to see.
“The ownership thought it would be appealing to children. With the team named the Aspens and in Canada, the beaver seemed like a good idea.”
He forces a smile, and some of the team members snicker.
“Did they really have to name it Slappy, though? I mean…it’s a beaver. It’s just…” I trail off because I’m not sure what to say. Other teams have fierce cats, sharks, and bears. This feels like we’re set up to be a joke. A cute beaver with a cute name entertaining people because we suck is a little demoralizing.
Coach looks awfully uncomfortable, and I inwardly groan. Isn’t it bad enough that we already live in the league’s basement? We’ll be laughingstocks worse than we are now.
“Our job is to play the game we’re being paid to play. I had to inform you of the mascot because there may be times when players may need to pose or be present at events with Slappy.” Someone groans in the back, but Coach forges on. “And when that happens, please remain respectful of the mascot. Whoever wears the beaver suit is just as much a part of this organization as you all are. Slappy is your teammate and should be treated like one.”
“I’m not posing for pictures with a damn dude in a beaver suit. This is bullshit.” Craning my neck back, I spot the owner of the voice. Another guy at the end of a lost road to a career. Mitchel Evans.
Most of the players around him laugh, but a few throw him hard side-eyes. Including Coach. But he lets the comment slide for now and dismisses us. Which is probably a wise decision.
“I wonder if Coach knows there’re several guys on this team who like wood?”
Youngblood elbows me with a grin as we file out of the meeting room.
“I’m sure he’s aware. I’ve been out as bisexual for years, and he’d know that if he read up on his players. But really, a beaver? A goose would be better. They’re mean. You can always count on a goose to go for the throat.”
Youngblood nods. He gets it.
“Beavers are cute and chubby, and have funny paws,”he adds.
“That’s more appealing to a family than something that goes for the throat. I can understand the marketing decision there. But… fuck, Youngblood, this might be the longest season ever having to deal with a damn beaver mascot.” Just let me play the game I’m paid to do.
With a sigh, I accept the fate of playing for a team with a mascot everyone will laugh at. My energy is better spent on bonding with this team that’s mostly new to each other. We need to come together and win some games. I want to make this season the best because a guy like me might not have many seasons left.
“Do you wanna grab lunch or something?” Youngblood’s cheerful voice draws me away from my gloomy thoughts. “It’s our last day before training camp runs us into the ground, and we have no social life.”
He smiles up at me, and I know I should go even for a little while, but my mind is elsewhere, and he deserves better company than that.
“I’ll have to take a rain check. Go join the other guys, and we’ll catch up another time. I need to take care of some things.”
“Hey, no sweat. It’s good to see you again, Piney. I’m sure we’ll spend time over beers once the travelling starts.”
With a pat on my shoulder, he jogs over to join another group of players heading out. Coach reminds us all as we exit the building that our day starts at 9 A.M. tomorrow, and I walk to my car while looking down at my still blank phone screen.
It’s only been one day since I tracked Ben down. One single day. I don’t want to be the first one to call right away and look too eager. But then again…he certainly looked pleased to see me at his studio the other night. Before and after we came together in another hot-as-fuck meetup. I don’t know what it is about him, but it’s like I crave touching him. Like I need a hit of Ben or I can’t function.
With training camp about to start and then the grind of a season, I won’t have much time left for anything but hockey.
But watching him do his aerial routine through the door of his studio was…oof. Who knew that kind of thing was so sexy? The man has moves, and I like them. Preferably naked.
Driving home, it’s all I can think about. Having Ben naked and bending all over any which way plays on repeat to the point I feel a little creepy, but…sometimes that’s just how the mind works.
