Sophomore Surge

by K R Collins

  She watches her dad pack his bags. Fury swells inside her with each neatly folded polo he places on top of another. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m meeting Philip for dinner.”

  Who the fuck is Philip?

  “Why do you need all your shit with you?”

  Her dad zips his bags and walks past her. He pauses long enough to point at the TV, still frozen on the third period of the Minneapolis-Chicago game. “I took some notes. Watch the video, read up on my report, and prepare for tomorrow’s game.”

  He walks out and she doesn’t stop him, because she doesn’t know how.

  She watches the game tape on Minneapolis while she eats dinner. She keeps looking to the door, expecting her dad to come through as if summoned by video review. Instead, the door stays stubbornly closed, and her quinoa keeps falling off her spoon so she has to re-scoop it.

  Eventually, she accepts he isn’t coming back and focuses instead on Justin Rust. Minneapolis’s captain is as good as he was last year, maybe even better. Will Coach Butler put her out against his line to neutralize it? Or will he trust Peets to shut them down and task Sophie’s line with scoring?

  She picks up her dad’s notes to study up and prepare herself for either one. His breakdown of Minneapolis’s system is insightful. She reads what he has to say and watches it happen on her TV. She sees the gaps to exploit on offense and players she has to be careful of on defense. She taps her phone against her leg. If she were a better person, she’d text her dad and thank him for the analysis.

  Instead, she turns off the TV and prepares for bed.

  The next morning, the guest room is empty.

  She eats breakfast and heads to the rink for morning skate, because there isn’t anything else to do. She could text her mom and see if she’s heard from him but then she’ll have to explain how she lost him in the first place, and she needs her focus to be on tonight’s game.

  She takes an extra five minutes on the bike to clear her head and drops a yoga mat next to Teddy so she can stretch.

  “I think our dads are making friendship bracelets,” Teddy says.

  “Your dad’s name is Philip?”

  “Yeah. They went to dinner last night and when my dad came home he had a whole scouting report on Minneapolis’s best shooters.”

  Sounds like her dad. She wants to ask if her dad stayed over at Teddy’s place last night, but Teddy would’ve mentioned if he had. At least she knows he’s still in the city. If he was back in Thunder Bay, her mother would’ve called.

  Teddy drops into a stretch which makes Sophie’s muscles twinge in sympathy. “Do you think they gave me this game because the season’s over?”

  “The season isn’t over. And they gave you this game because they know you can back us to two points tonight.”

  Teddy rolls his eyes.

  This is why I can’t have the C. Maybe I’m ready for it, but they’re not ready for me. She punches his shoulder and ignores his grunt. “I need you in my corner.”

  “Sofe—”

  “We’re making the playoffs. We do it one game at a time. Are you with me tonight?”

  Teddy sighs. “Yeah, I’m with you. How come you never ask me for easy shit?”

  Sophie grins and pats his shoulder.

  Her apartment’s still empty when she returns from morning skate. It takes her a long time to fall asleep for her pregame nap, and she’s tense when she shows up to the rink for the game. She spots Mary Beth in the hallway. She glances at the assistant and intern who seem to always shadow her and asks, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Mary Beth leaves the other two women where they are and leads Sophie far enough away to give them some privacy. “What’s up?”

  “Will you let me know if my dad makes it to the box?”

  “If?” Mary Beth’s concern shifts into something more personal. “Is everything okay?”

  Sophie shrugs. She shouldn’t have brought it up. Now Mary Beth will have questions, and she can’t brush off her PR manager the way she does other people. Mary Beth taught her some of her tricks and is wise to all the others.

  Mary Beth lays a hand on Sophie’s arm. “I’ll keep an eye out. Warm up, get your head in the game, and I’ll let you know when your dad arrives.”

  Sophie nods and heads to the locker room to change. Either her dad will show up or he won’t; either way, she can’t do anything until after the game. For now, she takes a deep breath and pushes him out of her head.

  She nudges Merlin. “I need a big game out of you tonight.”

  “You always do.”

  “It’s crunch time.”

  If they win tonight and DC loses, they’re in a playoff spot. If they win and DC loses in OT, they’re tied for fourth place and DC has the tie breaker. Taking sole possession of fourth place will bring new energy to the locker room. Once they’re in the playoffs, they’ll fight to keep their place. She knows they will.

  “Coach is matching us against Rust. Are you ready to shut down your favorite player?”

  “Easy peasy.”

  Sophie laughs and pokes his side. “Dork.”

  Coach Butler’s giving them his pregame speech when Mary Beth slips into the locker room. She gives Sophie a discreet nod.

  Her dad’s here then.

  Good.

  Now, she needs to win.

  Minneapolis opens the game with their best line. Coach Butler counters with Sophie, Merlin, and Witzer. They exchange fist bumps as they skate to center ice for the faceoff. Sophie comes to a stop across from Rust and grins around her mouth guard.

  Pierre Delmonte holds the puck between them and lets it drop. Sophie and Rust both lunge forward. They tie up, their sticks locked together, and the puck forgotten as they lean on each other, vying for leverage.

  Merlin swoops in to grab the puck. Sophie ducks away from Rust and follows her winger into the offensive zone. Merlin drops a pass back to her, and she shoots. The puck goes wide, and Johnson reaches it first and passes to Rust who’s on a breakaway before Sophie realizes possession has changed.

  She takes off after him, but he had a head start, and she won’t catch up to him in time. She took a bad shot and now her team’s going to pay for it, not even a minute into the period. Still, she pushes her legs to move faster, even as Rust goes forehand-backhand, his signature move. The stadium seems to draw a collective breath, silent as Rust shoots.

  Teddy’s there, big in his net, and the puck hits the condor on his chest and drops to the ice. He covers it before Rust has a second chance.

  “Lucky,” Rust tells Teddy as Sophie reaches them.

  Teddy scoffs. “Like I need luck to stop you.”

  Sophie waits until Rust skates away to tap Teddy’s skates. “Thanks.”

  His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I told you I was with you tonight.”

  She pats his helmet before she skates to the bench. She pulls Peets, Spitz, and Big Red to her as she sits down. “Teddy bailed us out big time. Now, we give back to him. We play solid defense, we put a goal or two up on the board, and we win this for him.”

  “How did Rust miss?” Big Red asks. “Shootouts, breakaways, they’re his wheelhouse.”

  “He didn’t miss. Teddy stopped him.”

  Big Red stops staring at Rust and turns to stare at Teddy instead. He laughs and punches Spitz’s shoulder. “Fuck yeah, he did.”

  Sophie breaks up a two-on-one before it can develop, lifting Johnson’s stick so Witzer can grab the puck.

  Two shifts later, Spitz throws himself in the way of Rust’s shot and takes the puck off his thigh. He limps back to the bench, but he grins as he accepts back slaps and cheers from the team.

  Peets wins important faceoffs and Big Red plays the best defensive hockey he has all year. He fights for pucks along the boards, battles without taking penalties, and, instead of cheating for a breakaway, he commits to assignments.

  He returns to the bench, breathing heavy, but with fire in his eyes. Sophie grins and
tosses him a bottle of Gatorade. “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

  The score is 0-0 headed into first intermission.

  It’s still 0-0 headed into the second intermission.

  There’s ten minutes left in the third period when Nolan’s shot goes off Teddy’s facemask. Teddy throws himself on the puck, stomach first as if he’s forgotten he has a glove and a paddle he can use. Rust gets in a few extra jabs before the official blows the play dead.

  Sophie skates over to Teddy as Theo hauls his fellow American away from his goalie. “You good?”

  Teddy nods. His facemask is dented so he has to get a new one. Their head trainer asks him a few questions while Granlund does the equipment repair, but as soon as the switch is made, Teddy’s back on the ice.

  There’s five minutes left in the period when Johnson tries to go five-hole. Teddy squeezes his knees together and looks over his shoulder as if he isn’t sure he has the puck. The puck isn’t behind him and, after the play is blown dead and he stands up, there the puck is, safely out of the net.

  A few shifts later, he windmills, knocking the puck away from his net. He pushes off his post to challenge the rebound shot. Then he slams his paddle down to stop the next shot, and Sophie loses track of the saves he makes before he manages to cover the puck.

  Garfield whistles, low and impressed. “What the fuck did he eat today?”

  Nelson slings a leg over the boards. “Whatever it is, I want some.”

  Peets wins the faceoff, and they have enough time to clear the puck before the horn sounds to end the game. It’ll take overtime to decide this one.

  Teddy skates over for Coach’s intermission pep talk. He tips his helmet back and accepts the Gatorade she offers him. “You never ask me for easy shit.”

  “And yet, you still deliver. You got us a point, now it’s time for us to get you the second.”

  Sophie wins the faceoff against Rust to kick off overtime. She spent all last night studying his tendencies at the dot and reviewing her dad’s notes on his tells. When someone surprises him, he freezes for half a second instead of going straight for the puck. It’s all the advantage she needs.

  Her win springs a rush into the offensive zone. Merlin enters first and slings a cross-ice pass to Witzer. He bobbles the pass and Nolan steals the puck, but Sophie knocks down his clearing attempt. She settles the puck and slides it back to Witzer.

  They aren’t leaving this zone until they win.

  She streaks to the net, banging her stick for the puck. Nolan shoves her, but it isn’t enough to knock her off balance. She catches Witzer’s return pass right on her tape and she cradles the puck as she spins around Nolan and flicks a backhander top corner.

  Goal.

  They squeezed two points out of tonight, and they have a playoff spot. Now all they have to do is keep it.

  She accepts her back pats and butt slaps from her linemates, but it’s Teddy she rushes as soon as she’s able. Her stick is somewhere on the ice so she clasps his helmet between both of her hands and leans up to bump her visor against his mask. “You were so fucking huge for us. If I could, I would buy you so many drinks tonight.”

  He laughs and Theo nudges Sophie out of the way so he can shower love on their goalie. She skates over to her stick and plucks it off the ice.

  “Two points,” she tells X. “Now we need another two.”

  “Now, we celebrate the game. You can draw up the next battle plan tomorrow.”

  They fly to Kansas City and win big, 6-3, for the last game of the Dads’ Trip. Sophie had a goal and two assists on the night, but when she sits next to her dad for the flight home, he says, “DC won tonight. You’re only one point up on them. You need to be consistent for the rest of the season.”

  “We can do it.”

  They’re winning which they obviously need to do, but as they win they’re building good habits and their confidence. Big Red sneaks looks at the League’s standings when he thinks no one’s watching, and Spitz has started whistling in the showers. Even the older guys, the ones who have been here and fallen short for season after season, they’re beginning to hope as well.

  Her dad holds up his iPad. “I have all your shifts from the past three games.”

  She doesn’t ask where he’s been since he left her apartment or tell him flights home are prime napping times. Instead, she digs through her bag until she pulls out a notebook and a pen. “Hit me with it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  THE TEAM SEEMS to lose their enthusiasm after the Dads’ Trip. They lose to DC, drag a few games to OT where they scrape out one point, but they slip out of their place in the playoffs. There’s only a handful of games left, and if they don’t turn it around this will be yet another season where Concord misses the postseason.

  They string a few wins together, but they’re still one point out of a playoff spot going into their final game of the season. A win tonight puts them in fourth place in their division and means their season isn’t over. A loss, even an OT loss, and DC makes the playoffs instead.

  They need a win tonight.

  A win over Toronto.

  No big deal. All we need is a win over a team we’ve lost to twice this season. A team our former captain now plays for.

  They’re better than they were in the third game of the season when they first lost to Toronto, and they’re better than they were in Game 65. They’ve learned to fill some of the gaps Matty left behind, but this won’t be an easy game.

  Sophie pulls her jersey on. The A presses heavy against her chest. Not as heavy as a C would.

  When they take the ice for warm-ups, it’s in front of a full house. Every seat sold tonight, and the stands are packed with fans hoping to see history made. Sophie looks around as she skates her two laps. Fans are pressed against the glass, trying to be as close to the players as possible. Some have kids hoisted up on their shoulders for a better view. Some have their cameras out, taking pictures as the players skate by them.

  Two teenage girls hoist a sign which says “It’s been 84 years” and has a picture of an old lady.

  “Their sign is wrong,” she tells Big Red as he skates up to her. He looks over at the sign and laughs.

  “You don’t spend a lot of time on the internet, do you?”

  “Did they use a picture of their grandmother?”

  Big Red laughs again and pats her helmet before he chases after Zinger, a part of their pregame ritual she doesn’t entirely understand.

  She takes a deep breath and blocks out everything going on around her as she returns to her warm-up.

  The crowd grows louder and louder until the stadium is deafening. They boo each Toronto player as the starting roster is announced and chant for each Concord player when it’s their turn. They only quiet down long enough for the anthems to be sung. Coach Butler has to bring the team in for a tight huddle and even when he shouts, they can barely hear him.

  Sophie, Merlin, and Witzer skate out as the first line on the ice.

  “Did you hear a word he was saying?” Merlin asks.

  Witzer shrugs. “I never really pay attention.”

  Sophie rolls her eyes. “Play hockey. It’s all we have to do.”

  Merlin taps his stick on the ice for her. “Bravo. Inspiring speech.”

  She gives him a friendly facewash and sets up at center ice. She glances up and her smile slips from her face when she sees Matty across from her.

  “You’re on the brink of something,” he tells her.

  She ignores him, looking to Pierre Delmonte instead. As soon as he drops the puck, she springs into action. She lunges forward to sweep the puck away, but her stick clacks loudly against Matty’s. She leans in and he leans back. Catching her off balance, he knocks the puck to Poletti, and Sophie breaks free to chase the forward down the ice.

  She catches up to him before the blue line, and she pokes the puck off his stick with enough force to send it skittering to Lindy. Her goalie cradles the puck as he surveys his option
s. He flings a pass down ice to Witzer.

  It’s Toronto’s turn to scramble on defense, and the crowd stays on their feet, cheering the Condors on.

  When Sophie jumps over the boards for her third shift of the game, the fans somehow grow louder. She strips Marcus of the puck and reverses direction for a quick reentry into the offensive zone. Witzer’s on the far side of the ice, and she’s prepared to pass when Marcus shifts into the passing lane.

  Well, then.

  She shoots the puck instead, and Lauer kicks the puck out wide. Witzer jumps on the rebound and passes up to Spitz. Sophie drops down to screen, and she holds her ground as Spitz loads up his shot. Unlike Lauer, she has a clear view of the puck as it comes at them. She tilts her stick and the puck hits the shaft and bounces over Lauer’s waiting glove.

  She throws her hands up in the air as the goal light flashes. She skates right for Spitz who opens his arms and laughs as they collide. “Perfect fucking shot,” she tells him.

  “Nice deflection.”

  Witzer and Merlin crash into them at the same time.

  “Holy shit!” Merlin shouts, grabbing their necks and shaking them. “We might make the playoffs!”

  Sophie smacks his helmet. “We will.”

  The score is 1-0 headed into the first intermission. Sometime during the first period, she stops feeling the sharp stab of not right whenever she sees Matty. He’s a guy on the other team, and she has to beat him if she wants her two points. No one, not even her former captain, is keeping her from the playoffs.

  It’s 1-2 headed into the second intermission.

  The crowd is silent as the Condors troop down the tunnel, all their excitement replaced with an all too familiar why do we bother. It’s a one goal deficit in the biggest game of the franchise’s history. They can come back from this. They will. Given the team’s past, she grudgingly understands why the fans are so quick to lose faith, but her teammates hang their heads as they sit in their stalls as if they’re wondering why they bother.

  X’s helmet hangs behind him, and he runs his hands through sweaty, gray-speckled hair. He doesn’t joke with J-Rod like he did during last intermission or glance over at Sophie with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Big Red and Zinger, who were both animated twenty minutes ago, are subdued by the vets beside them. Garfield and Nelson look tired. Merlin hangs his helmet in his stall as if this is the end of their season.