I’m going to make this a quick workout, though, as I have a shit ton of stuff to do today. The real estate agent came on Monday of this week and walked around the house with me, pointing out suggestions on things that could be done to increase the value of the house. That included repainting a few rooms and new carpeting upstairs, as well as some landscaping upgrades, since spring is the best time to sell.
Kate and I decided to knock out the painting first, and we’re going to try to make a dent in that today. She spent the last two days that I was in Chicago prepping the rooms with tape and drop cloths, but I insisted that she wait for me to do the painting, as I wanted to actually participate in the work. It was Gina’s house I was leaving behind. The least I could do was man up and get it ready to do so.
I hear laughter coming out of the weight room as I approach and hear the words “the Brick” filter out. That’s clearly some of my teammates referencing the Cold Fury’s newest team acquisition, Ryker Evans, otherwise known in the league as the Brick, the shortened version of Brick Wall.
Management announced today that it had signed legendary goalie Ryker Evans to the team. The Brick is indeed an active legend and at the ripe old age of thirty-one—which is indeed old in this league—he’s still damn good. He has three Stanley Cups under him as well as four Vezina Trophies for being the best goalie in the league.
The sad part is that he’s probably on his way out of the league. Although he’s coming over from the starting position with the Boston Eagles, he won’t be a starter here because our starting goalie, Max Fournier, is killing it right now. No, Ryker will be our backup goalie, which is a sure sign that he’s definitely on his way toward retirement.
Still, he’s a fantastically solid goalie who will add depth to our team as well as maturity, especially since it looks like we’re going to have a great shot at going far in the playoffs. My guess is that Ryker will probably only be with us this season and next, but I’m excited to meet him. I’ve heard nothing but great things about him so far.
“Shit,” I hear Claude Amedee, one of the young defensemen on my line, say with a laugh, “they’ll probably have to replace his goalie stick with a cane.”
The other two guys, Sam Larson and Mikkel Erat, both defensemen on the third line, snicker. Normally, ribbing one another is a part of the camaraderie we all have going, but knocking on a dude’s age in this league is not cool. While thirty-one is pretty damn young by society’s standards, it’s advanced age for a professional athlete. Fuck, I’m almost there at age twenty-seven, and I’m well aware I don’t have many more years left in hockey. The wear and tear on a body ages a person fast. It’s not funny, because we all have that hanging over our heads.
As I walk in, I shoot Claude a chastising look. “Don’t fucking go there, dude.”
Sam and Mikkel immediately stop laughing, but Claude gives me an amused grin. “Come on, Grantham. We’re just fucking around…it’s not like the Brick can hear us.”
“And you’re lucky he can’t,” I say as I walk over to the free weights. “That dude would pound you into the ground.”
Claude loses the grin and gets busy on the leg press.
There is a reason they call him the Brick Wall. The guy is massive for a goalie, topping out at six-six and built almost as wide. He takes up most of the net just by sheer size alone, yet has the flexibility and agility of a fucking thirteen-year-old gymnast. I’ve always enjoyed watching him play and he sure as shit made it hard on me over the years to score goals on him.
“We’re fortunate to get him,” I add on. “He’s going to be a leader on this team, so you need to show him some respect.”
“Got it, man,” Claude grumbles as he pushes against the steel plate with his feet.
Yeah, I remember what it was like to be in Claude’s shoes. I think he’s only nineteen or twenty, but that’s a baby in this sport. You think you know everything and that you’re invincible. I want to shake them and tell them that life is fragile and we can never take anything we have for granted.
It would probably fall on deaf ears, anyway. I know there was a time in my life I didn’t want to hear shit like that, and it wasn’t until I lost what was precious to me that I started to appreciate it all.
—
As I climb the stairs to the second floor of my house, I am immensely grateful to Kate that there is no awkwardness between us because of that kiss four days ago. And that is due solely to her.
When I came down to breakfast the next morning, I expected things to be weird and tense. There’s no doubt in my mind that no matter how fucking good that kiss was, it was absolutely wrong. I had no business crossing that line and confusing Kate with my actions.