Coach Madsen.
A force to be reckoned with, even if she is a half foot shorter than me. Her idol is Danièle Sauvageau, the first woman inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame. She demands excellence from her team and nothing less.
That’s why Coach agreed with Paige, our top goalie and closest thing I have to a friend, when she suggested I become team captain.
“Yeah, Coach?” I lean on my stick, my breathing rapid from the lack of breaks I’ve given myself.
Coach Madsen makes her way onto the ice, avoiding the litter of pucks that fill the rink. She commands the room without even trying. That’s one of the things that was brought up in an interview when she was chosen to be the coach of the women’s Olympic hockey team. The committee watched her for over a year, but we always knew she would be the chosen one. Our team has been undefeated for two seasons in a row. She commends Paige and myself for the victories, but we know who deserves the credit for the win streak.
I may be team captain, but she’s the one who makes the calls.
She put us in the lines we’re in, and she’s the one who feeds the team’s dynamic and overall good vibes.
“You’re supposed to be resting.” Her eyes scan the ice to determine how long I’ve been out here. Not a single dark hair out of place as she shakes her head. “We leave for Italy tomorrow.”
I sigh, feeling the butterflies consume my stomach at the thought of playing on an Olympic hockey team. Especially with everything and everyone I have working against me getting this far.
“I know, Coach.” I keep my responses short and sweet, as she prefers.
No need to add fluff when trying to get a point across. Just say what you mean and move on.
“Find someone to get this cleaned up and get your ass home,” she orders, pulling her phone from her pants pocket before tapping away at something that requires her attention.
I let my stick fall as I slowly skate toward the pucks to gather them up.
“You don’t have to keep practicing alone, you know.” Her tone the same one I’ve only ever heard her use with her eleven-year-old daughter, Maddy. “This is a team sport.”
She doesn’t say ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you in Milan’; she simply walks out of the rink, leaving me to my own thoughts.
I give her a half grin even though she can’t see it. I’m always grateful for her looking out for us in her own way. Tough love.
A few minutes later, I’m greeted by two teenage boys who must work at the arena and have the order to clean the rink. They skate around me like they’re afraid to breathe my air. I look at them and smile, but their eyes grow wide as though I caught them doing something they’re not supposed to.
“You boys all right?” I lift a brow in question as I watch them skate to a stop.
The taller of the two clears his throat and seems to stumble over his words as he tries to talk to me.
“We are.” He clears his throat again and fidgets with his fingers. “I mean, we were wondering…”
“Can we get you to sign one of these pucks?” the other one finishes.
I chuckle and nod. “I can if you have a marker. I only sign things in blood on Tuesdays.”
They both laugh, the tension visibly falling from their shoulders, and the taller boy pulls a silver Sharpie from his pocket. Smart kid keeping it on him for just-in-case purposes. You never know who will show up at this rink, considering the Bruins are frequent fliers here also.
I sign my usualPlay fast. Play fearless.And scribble my name and#13underneath before handing it back. The boys high-five and race off the ice with the signed trinket in hand, ignoring the rest of the pucks I used for practice.
Those little fuckers. They don’t work here. They probably weren’t even supposed to be here.
Totally something I would have done as a kid, too, which dissolves my irritation at the lack of help.
“Sorry about that,” Billy yells from the player gate. “That’s not the first time they’ve managed to pass as the ice crew.”
“You’d think there would be better security,” I say, only partially kidding.
He laughs and nods in agreement before saying, “I’ve called the boys to head down and help clear the pucks. You can go get yourself ready for the big trip.”
I adjust my gear and smile before grabbing my stick and heading toward the locker room.
