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| 2 | First Impressions |

 My first day couldn't have gone better, as soon as the IT guys set up my computer I dove in head first in the player files and bios and got to work. I figured that if I did the bios now before they all started to show up for their interviews then I'd have it pretty organized and not be in over my head.

The second day was what I couldn't wait for, when I actually started in and got to know the players I'd be interviewing. I always liked the second day better, in high school the second day of school was the best, the one where you dove into what you were going to be learning. College was the exception, syllabus week was the best week of the semester, all we had to do was sit in class for a few and then we'd go out and party at night if we wanted to and it wouldn't matter if we'd been out too late the night beforehand.

The first player I interviewed Tuesday was the captain. He'd played for three teams in three different leagues before coming back here where he'd played for ten years now and had been captain for three of those ten years.

Next was a kid fresh out of college, he'd graduated in the spring from a D3 school in Wisconsin and signed a tryout contract at the end of the previous season and had just signed his first real contract a few months ago.

Each player's story was different and I loved it, hearing why these guys chose to still play the game even though there's always a good chance of getting moved around while playing in a league of this kind.

I interviewed ten of the players before taking a break for lunch that Tuesday.

"Anything I can help you with?" Amy asked as she poked her head in my office.

"Actually," I replied, "Anywhere outstanding I should go grab lunch at?"

"There's a sub shop down the street, phenomenal," she said, "I'll text you the address."

"Thanks," I said as she walked away.

I grabbed my purse and phone and locked up my office and walked back up to the main floor where the exit was.

At first, I thought that it would be hard to work with a hockey team and in a rink, but I found that if the rink wasn't Aladine's rink, I wouldn't have that same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I got when I was in the rink in Aladine. Bristol didn't bother me like Aladine did, and now Estero didn't bother me either. There were no reminders of him in either of those places, only in Aladine.

The sub shop was only a few blocks away, so I walked there instead of driving. It was so beautiful out anyway, I definitely was going to walk to work tomorrow if it was this nice again. In Michigan, the weather could be pretty bipolar at times, especially toward the end and beginning of summer and at this time of the year when the seasons were changing like they were now. Here in Florida, there was one season, warm. The coldest it typically got here was the 50's or 60's, which in Michigan is shorts weather when you're used to winters with temperatures below zero for weeks at a time.

The sub shop was only a few minutes away and it was obviously a little mom and pop kind of restaurant. It's walls were lined with pictures of the local Little League teams that the restaurant had sponsored over the years along with signed team photos of the the team as well, including the one after they won the Kelly Cup last season and a few seasons beforehand. The booths were all a bright red color with stainless steel tables and a bar top at the front with bright red barstools lining the counter. I stood back for a minute or two and looked at the menu written in various bright colors of chalk on a board above the counter to decide what I wanted.

"You in line?" a guy's voice asked, tapping me on the shoulder.

"Me? Oh I'm sorry," I replied, "I was just looking at the menu, go ahead."