Page 14 of Powder
Still, Fi was right. I had managed to find and please a gorgeous man ten years my junior. That was something to feel good about. My ego began to grow slowly. Knowing I could still please a lover made me feel better about myself. And that had started to leak into my hockey life. Which was why I settled on signing up with Bjorn Persson, a personal trainer at his facility in Falmouth, Massachusetts. The man was legendary. He’d worked with many of the pros, including several from the Boston Rebels. The four-week training camp was intense. I do not know how I survived the first day. I barely made it to the ice for day two, but I did. And then I showed for days three, four, five, etc., and the training got easier. Not easy. Bjorn did not doeasy. But easier.
Coming into the final week, I was down ten pounds, my speed had increased, my focus on basic mechanics had improved, and my endurance had risen.
The Railers were about to get a brand-new captain when preseason began next week. All thanks to two magical weeks with Tian. If I ever saw that man again, I would kiss him for the bolster he had given my sagging ego. I’d also kiss him because I missed his laughter and sunny disposition. We could have been good, I think, if life hadn’t pulled us apart.
“If I maintain weight, do I get to have a banana split after sprints?” I asked, stepping up onto the scale in front of ten other elite players, all younger than I was, and all just as hungry. The guys chuckled.
“No, but you can join the others for another hour in the weight room followed by fruit smoothies on the quad,” Bjorn replied.
“That’s not as inspiring as you seem to think,” I countered and got a short huff of a laugh from the towering Swedish ex-Olympian.
The fruit smoothie, an hour later, tasted mighty fine. As did the knowledge I’d bench-pressed more than any of the hotshot youngsters. Yep, that smoothie tasteddamnfine.
“Cap,do you think that the Railers will ever again have a streak like we had in the Rowe-Madsen days?”
I scrubbed at my beard, neatly trimmed but still on my face. I couldn’t bring myself to shave it off, as Tian had loved it so much. Not that I had anyone to take his place in my bed. I doubted anyone could, but keeping the whiskers reminded me of our short but incredible time together. And that always made me feel better about myself. I stroked my chin as I contemplated the question from one of about fifteen reporters gathered around me on the first day of training camp.
“Well, Issac, I think that we’re going to see a new team this year, filled with great talent. We have some great rookies this year who will be trying to make the roster. Did you see our representation at this year’s rookie camps?”
Issac, a reporter from a local sports blog and a pretty decent guy, nodded. “I did, and while those kids are in the pipeline, we’re going to need more from the veterans.”
“Agreed,” I said, and got head bobs from the press at my cubicle. “I know that I’m coming into this season lighter, stronger, and with a fire in my heart that I hope to spread to therest of the team. I know Gunny over there,” I jerked my hairy chin at Noah Gunnarsson holding court in the corner, “has been working hard all summer, just like Trick. We’re all hunkering down to bring this city a winning team. I think you’ll be pleased at what you see during our first preseason game against Philly in a few weeks.”
They fired a few more questions at me, then filed out when the press manager for the team told them to. Layton Foxx, newly appointed Senior Director of Public and Media Relations for the Railers, herded them to the press room where they could speak with the GM while we players were put through a day of testing.
I strolled through the locker room, stopping to talk with each man, asking how their summer went and how the partners and kids were doing. Gunny and his race car driver were stupidly happy; I could tell by the goofy grin on his face when he mentioned him. Trick was dating a retired football star and seemed happy as a clam. His attitude would be under my scrutiny this season. I knew love could do miraculous things for a man. Not that I loved Tian. I mean, that would be silly. I’d known him for two weeks. And sure, those were amazing weeks, but love was something you built together. Over time. And we were not together, nor would we ever be, as long as we were both professional athletes. But the point still remained.
Once I’d chatted with everyone, I stood in the center of the horseshoe-shaped room, careful not to step on the Railers logo in the center of the mat. We did not need any bad juju.
“Okay, men, I know you’re all looking forward to a day filled with grueling tests both on and off the ice. Surely you all were training hard during the summer and are in peak physical condition, so nothing to worry about, right?” I asked and received a round of replies that seemed to be mostly upbeat.
“I love the VO2 test!” Gunny shouted and got pelted with socks.
“Yeah, we all love that one,” I grunted as the men moaned. “I know the trainers and coaches are about ready for us, but I wanted to take a few minutes to talk with you guys. I know last season was disappointing. Yeah, we made the playoffs, and that’s something to be proud of. Getting shunted out in the first round was shit.” The men murmured in agreement. “I feel that a lot of our trouble was here in the locker room. I was going through some personal stuff that pulled me down, and I wasn’t here mentally to keep the locker room in the right frame of mind.” They all started to coddle. “No, hey, no.” I held up a hand. “I failed you all in that regard. It willnothappen this season. I had a great summer, have moved into a new place, and am ready to devote myself to this game one hundred and ten percent.”
They all grunted and clapped. “So, now the rest is up to you. Your captain is here, leaner and meaner and ready to knock fuckers off their skates. What are you baboons ready to do to bring the Cup to Harrisburg again?” Everyone shouted different things. Forwards wanted to score more, goalies be scored on less, and my fellow D-men wanted to knock fuckers off their skates. “Excellent! I love that grit! From this point forward, this team is all about cohesion. Working together as a unit. I want to see you bringing energy, toughness, and eagerness to every practice, every game, every time your skates touch ice. Together we can build something incredible. As a team that works as one, we can bring the Cup back to Harrisburg. Together we can build our own legacy!”
They all rose. Fists pumped the air. A dozen or so fell on me, slapping my back, ruffling my hair, and saying how proud they were to be Railers. That was the drive and passion we needed from the guys and from me on the daily. Last year, the shit with Paula had distracted me, pulled me down into a pit where I couldn’t see one good thing about myself or my life. Now I was better, lighter, stronger, ready to take on the rest of the league.And so much of that new spirit was due to Tian. Someday, I would thank him for those magical two weeks. He’d been the keystone of my slow climb out of misery and self-doubt. As my team filed out to conduct their testing and get the new season underway, I whispered a heartfelt thanks. Not to any saint. No, I offered up a tender gratitude to Tian and the joy he had brought into my life. I sent it off with a kiss of my mother’s gold cross that hung around my neck. Wherever he was and whatever he was doing, I hoped he felt a gentle caress of affection and warmth and knew it was from me.
EIGHT
Tian
September meant Mammoth Lakes.Dryland training, mornings when sweat slicked down my spine, my breath burned in the thin mountain air, and resistance bands bit into my shoulders until every muscle screamed. Afternoons at the airbag, throwing myself off ramps until my body was bruised from endless switch backside 900s, frontside 1080 attempts, and half-spun 1620 setups. My thighs burned, shoulders ached from hauling myself upright after each slam into the airbag, and my lungs felt like they were lined with fire, but I kept climbing back up, forcing every muscle to remember what perfection had to feel like. and my brain overloaded with spin counts and grab tweaks. The mountains we loved weren’t snow-covered yet, but the practice airbag gave me the chance to test tricks, land them safely, and keep building toward something that would set me apart from the rest. Something the selection committee couldn’t ignore when the Olympic trials came.
I was working my way up to a monster of a Big Air trick. Separate pieces drilled over and over—the approach, the takeoff, the spin initiation, the grab, the landing mechanics—all had to be perfect on their own before I could stitch them together intothe full run. If I could lock it down in time for the World Cup in Europe and nail it there, my name would be hung on the Olympic selection committee’s wall as a solid option. Back it up with strong finishes in the Grand Prix and the Dew Tour, and I’d be a shoo-in. That was the ladder in my head every time I hit the airbag.
“Man, I can’t wait until there’s actual snow again,” Derek, one of the guys I trained with, muttered as we trudged back up the stairs to reset. He was my age; we’d been riding the same circuits for years. “Dryland’s good and all, but nothing beats the real thing.”
“Yeah, can’t argue with that,” I said, shifting my board under my arm. “Snow’s the whole point.”
He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess I’m not pushing as hard this season. Married life, you know?” He paused as we joined the short queue. “Jenna’s pregnant.”
“Jeez, man, congrats,” I said warmly, meaning it.
I pulled him into a one-armed bro-hug, grinning because Derek had always been head-over-heels for Jenna and seeing him so happy made me happy too. He deserved this, the family he’d dreamed about, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for him. He’d always been a solid rider and a better friend. He was also the only one I’d told—well, in a loose way—about what had happened on the cay, and only because he’d pushed me to trade stories about our breaks. Him? Having a pool installed at his house in Aspen. Me? Well, sun, sea, and sex. It had made him laugh and shake his head, and it had felt good to share even a sliver of that with someone who knew me.
Dishonest after I’d realized how much the two weeks had meant to me, yeah, but hey, I’d told someone.
