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The thought makes me smile. It is like music to my ears that it adds pressure to the opposition almost instantly. They don’t like giving me space because I can shift through fast andmanipulate the opponent to the point of almost toying with them.
To me, I’m just doing my job. It’s the years of skating and practice that have made me a better, stronger player.
Coach is all about simplifying things by using our hockey instincts, along with our intuition and obvious athletic ability.
“Remember, instead of the perfect play,” Coach Carter reiterated before we got out on the ice, “I want a functional, decisive play. Both go hand in hand and fit together. It’s not about the perfect play. If you want to shoot—shoot, if you take a pass—pass, if you decide to skate—skate.”
Makes perfect sense to me.
“No fucking second guessing.” Were his last words.
It might be a practice game, but Coach is serious all the way. Nothing slips past him.
“You okay?” Taylor asks me as we skate out onto the ice.
“I’m fine.” I nod. “It feels good being out here. I need this.”
He gives me a pat on the shoulders. “It’s been a big week, so I’m just checking up on you.”
“Appreciated,” I tell him.
Everything is still a major shock to the system. Most mornings, I wake up unable to believe what happened, thinking it was all some kind of nightmare.
It takes a while to realize it’s far worse than any nightmare I used to have.
It used to make me feel so anxious seeing my dad because we would constantly fight.
It doesn’t seem real to not even have those disagreements anymore.
It’s strange not having him around. And after the letter, I don’t know what to think.
Mom and Kate are here at the game with Kenny and heading back tomorrow. It’s been a dismal few days, and that’s putting itlightly. As if our dad dying in a horrific car accident isn’t enough, I then find out there’s a possibility I’m not even blood-related to him! Mom still insists James is my father, but I don’t know what to believe anymore.
Mom and I are obviously not on the best of terms right now. I’m struggling to come to terms with any of it.
I guess we need some space, and I need to work out what I’m going to do.
I’m just so mad at her and the situation right now; maybe I will see things differently in time.
My mind switches into hockey mode and we take to the ice.
The pressure is on us going into the new season being the Stanley Cup Winners, even if this is only a once off exhibition game. Our series of pre-season exhibition games don’t start for a little while longer. All this doesn’t matter in Coach’s eyes—we have to continue our form no matter what. He will monitor each player’s every move before going into the new season.
Don’t second guess your first initial decision. Coach’s words ring through my brain.
Be decisive and play fast on the ice.
I guess if anyone had an excuse to overthink anything at the moment, it would be me, but I won’t allow it to slip in, no matter how much it may want to.
We play Los Angeles today on our home turf.
Identical twin brothers Cruz and Huntley Knight are the ones to watch for Los Angeles. One plays defense, one plays right wing, and they’re both fast fuckers.
But Taylor and I are fast, too, so we will definitely give them a show.
There’s nothing I love more than when Taylor and I come together and create some magic on the ice. The love of this game and my teammates pumps through my veins.
There’s nothing else for me, nothing else I would want to be doing.
