The Road to the Cup ~ Wattys 2015

Missing Hockeytown

The rest of practice had been uneventful, but I was tired when I reached my apartment in downtown Pittsburgh. I sighed as I sank into my couch. It was an old thing from my college days and I needed a new one, but I had just moved in yesterday from my place on Union's campus and I hadn't had time to shop. I still had boxes stacked throughout the apartment that needed unpacking and I dragged myself off the couch to do just that.

I sorted through my clothes, hanging some up and folding others. All of my furniture was in place, but my knickknacks and decorations were all boxed up.

I dragged my box of books to the shelf in my bedroom and sorted them. A shelf of all the novels I had to read, a shelf or two of my favorites, a shelf of all my hockey books, and a shelf of all those books that I would never read again that I just couldn't let go of. I got out all my throw pillows and cooking supplies. I set up my stereo and DVD player with the television and I stacked all of my CDs and DVDs.

I guess it was safe to say that I didn't have any friends yet in the Steel City. I sat unpacking all my stuff, missing my family back home and my friends. I knew I would talk to most of them later tonight, but I wanted to finish this now.

I had only one box left: hockey memorabilia. I opened it carefully and laid the jersey across my lap. It was a few years old, but I loved it very much and was very careful with it. I traced the winged wheel in the center, remembering all the games I had watched on TV, the sound of the air horn, the chant "You got Kronwalled", and hearing "Hey, hey, Hockeytown!" each time a game started. I missed Michigan. I missed watching my home team. I traced the letters on the back spelling "Zetterberg" and the number 40, remembering when I met my favorite player for the first time. I was very young when it had happened. I thought about my life now and almost laughed out loud. I had met more NHL players today than people meet in their entire lives. Hell, I was an assistant coach in the NHL. I had come a long way from the small town in Michigan where I had grown up. I also had new team loyalties.

Which reminded me, I should really put my Detroit stuff in my room where it won't be seen by Pittsburgh fans. Detroit and Pittsburgh have been rivals for a long time, though being a Detroit fan in the Burgh was no where near as dangerous as being a Philly fan in the Burgh. My throw went on the bed and the jersey in the closet. My collage of photos from all of the NHL arenas, however, went in the living room. That would be less of a treachery if anyone here saw it, but the Detroit stuff should be hidden. I had my own boys to root for now; I couldn't root for anyone else. I could, and would, still respect the other teams of course, even if it was rivalry night.

Once everything was put away, I decided it was probably time to call my mom. She would want to hear how the day had gone. My mom was not a huge hockey fan, but she cheered for the Red Wings because that was her home team. I assumed she would cheer on the Penguins now too, because her daughter coached there. I figured that most of my friends back home would be able to stand the Penguins now that I coached them, even if they used to hate the team.

My mother answered on the third ring, "Hi, Erin!" She said.

"Hi, Mom! How is everyone back in The Mitten?"

"We are fine, dear. How is it out there?"

"It's nice," I replied.

"We miss you," she said. Even over the phone I could tell she was getting emotional.

"I miss you too, Mom. You know I will visit when I can, right? There's no need to cry, I'm a grown up," I reassured her, although the sound of her voice made me sad too.

"I know," she said, and I could tell she was trying to be happier when she asked, "How was practice? Were any of the guys cute?"

"Mom!" I said, drawing it out, "You know I can't date any of my players."

"Are you sure? You are all adults and could maintain a professional relationship," she said. She really wanted grandbabies.

I laughed, "I'm sure. Practice was good. I met Mario Lemieux today. He was a play-"

"I know who he is," she cut me off.

"Okay, well, he heard me give the guys the 'you're a family' speech I always give and he liked it. He said I would be a good coach. Me! Mario Lemieux told me I'd be a good NHL coach!" I was freaking out.

"I hope you didn't respond like that when he told you," my mom teased.

"No, of course not! And Evgeni Malkin thinks I'll be a good coach too."

"What's an 'Evgeni Malkin'?" She asked.

"One of my players, Mom. And Sidney Crosby, another one of-"

"I know who Sidney Crosby is, Erin."

"Right, well, Crosby said that they think I'm really the one in charge, not Johnston, because of my speech."

"Well, that sounds very good, sweetie. Your dad and I are very proud of you."

"Tell Daddy I said hi when he gets home, okay?" I said.

"I will. Do you have to go already?" She asked.

"Yes, I need to find something to eat; it's been a long day. I'll call again tomorrow, okay, Mom?"

"Okay, Erin. I love you."

"I love you, too." I hung up. I went into the kitchen, missing my family and my home even more. I could feel tears pricking at my eyes and I wiped them away. I opened the fridge and realized I didn't have any food yet. I facepalmed. How could I forget food?  I closed the fridge and thought. I could go to the store, buy some groceries and probably a lot more food than I needed because I'd be shopping on an empty stomach, or, I could go out to eat and then shop. That seemed more logical.

I grabbed my keys and my wallet and was ready to go when my phone started ringing; it was a call from an unknown number.

Author's Note

*starts singing "Who Can It Be Now?"* I'd apologize for the cliffhanger, but I'm not that sorry and there'll be a new update coming to electronic devices near you very soon! Please comment and vote to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Thanks a million! Let's go Pens!