HOCKEY IMAGINES: BOOK 2 // REQUESTS CLOSED

#5: JAKE BEAN - #24 CHARLOTTE CHECKERS

Moving to a new city is hard but moving to a new country is even more difficult. I spent most of my childhood moving around Europe because of my father's job, he played ice hockey in Canada before I was born and then became an assistant coach when his professional career ended. We spent many years living in the United Kingdom, Germany, Switzerland, and Norway when he coached professional ice hockey teams. Then one day he got a call from a WHL team in Canada, he jumped at the offer to go back to his home country and so the rest of our family and I went with him.

Now being in Canada for almost three months, I have yet to meet the team my father is the assistant coach of. I know they are called the Calgary Hitmen and play in the Western Hockey League of the Canadian Hockey League. Man, Canada and its hockey. You can't go anywhere in the country without seeing something to do with the sport. And with my father being so involved with it, I've spent the majority of my life being around the teams he has helped coach. So, today is finally the day that I meet the Calgary Hitmen as they hold their annual meet and greet with their fans and season ticket holders.

I look myself over in the mirror, my hair is thrown up into a messy ponytail and I wear an overly large UofC jumper. I did want to make an effort, but I'm just too lazy to care about my appearance so we're going with the 'I couldn't care less' look today. I hear my father shout for me and I grab my phone off my dresser before running into the living room, I see him waiting for me.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks from his spot on the couch.

"Yeah." I nod. My father smiles and slaps his hands on his knees, he stands up and I follow him out of the house not before shouting a 'see you later' to my mother and siblings. We get into the car and drive towards the arena where the meet and greet is being held, I sit back in my seat and hold a conversation with my father. Soon we arrive at the building and I hop out of the car once my father turns it off, I bounce excitedly on the tips of toes as I follow my father inside. For a girl who's almost nineteen, I still get excited to meet the players my father coaches and ice hockey itself.

"I'll go check in and then I'll introduce you to the boys before the fans get here." My father tells and I look up at him in shock. Boys? He normally refers to the members of the team as 'guys', never boys. How old are these players?

"Boys?" I ask voicing my questioning thoughts to my father.

"Yeah, boys. They're from the age of sixteen to twenty one, they're all around your age." He says. I feel myself freeze in shock, I look a complete mess and I'm about to meet a bunch of guys my age looking like someone who climbed out of a trash can. Why didn't I put any effort into my outfit? Maybe because I thought these hockey players would be much older than me, not my freaking age! I was so use to being around older players that I would turn up wearing my pyjamas when I followed my father to their practices when we lived in Europe.

"Oh, OK." I respond with a nod of my head. My father chuckles at my reaction and pats my shoulder before walking off. I look around at the arena we are in, it's all set up with tables and areas for fans to play hockey. I chuckle silently to myself, of course there is hockey sticks and the likes set up around the arena. I slowly walk further in, my eyes still looking around the set up. I see most tables have name tags sat on them, that must be where the players are going to be sat signing stuff. I wonder what they look like, I'm so used to seeing mid-twenty to late thirty year old players so a change of players my age is appreciated... if I didn't look so horrible.

I see no one over at a hockey set up area and I make a b-line towards it. I grab the right stick for my height and pull a bunch of pucks in front of me, I start to juggle a puck with the blade of my stick and shoot a couple towards the net. Obviously being the daughter of a hockey coach, I have learnt to play the sport since I could walk. I like to say I'm good at hockey, but I'm nothing compared to the NHL players. My attention is focused on the pucks and what I'm doing, I don't notice a group of guys watching me.