The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 29: Holy Fucking Shit

~Ben~

As I stepped on the ice, the only words that came to my mind were: holy fucking shit. I kept repeating those words in my head over and over again. The rest of my mind was blank. I had lost all other words.

"Holy fucking shit," I said out loud when coach Bailey told me to get on the ice in the middle of the second period. I couldn't believe it was really happening. Most rookies don't play in their first few games.

"Holy fucking shit," I repeated when I sat back down on the bench at the end of the second period. I had only played for ten minutes, but they were the most intense of all my hockey career. I wanted to make the most of the time I spent on the ice and tried to remember every second. I watched my teammates play very carefully, trying to improve my skills by copying theirs.

"Holy fucking shit," I thought when I entered the locker room a few minutes ago. I can barely hear what the coach and his assistant are saying because of the buzzing in my ears. I still can't believe what just happened. I just played my first game in the NHL for fuck's sake. My legs are still shaking, and we've been off the ice for twenty minutes now. I also can't rub the goofy smile off of my face. I think it'll stay there at least until tomorrow if not longer. We have another game in two days in New Jersey meaning that we have an early practice tomorrow to make the necessary adjustments to be ready in time.

I look at my phone for the first time since entering the locker room before the game when the coach leaves the room to let us get changed. I have taken the habit to store it in my gym bag as soon as I walk in the locker room when I played in Midget because the coach didn't want us being distracted by it, so he took them away if he saw one. I have two texts from Eleanor and one from Connor. I open Connor's first since he texted me last. He's only congratulating me on my first game and wants me to call him later tonight. I put an alarm at ten to remind me before opening Eleanor's texts.

6:40: Hey, we are outside the locker rooms. Just wanted to say hi if you want to come out

9:10: We're here again!

Shit, I missed the first one. The last text came in fifteen minutes ago. I answer a simple: "Will be there in five," and start hurrying to pack my stuff in my hockey bag. I don't take the time to put my suit jacket and tie my tie, I don't want Eleanor to wait for me longer than she already has. I say bye to a couple of guys I hung out with more at the training camp and leave. She's the first thing I see when I walk out the heavy metal door. She's wearing pale blue jeans and a simple wool grey sweater. Her hair is loose and hangs a little past her shoulders, showing how much it has grown since this summer. Ophelia is asleep in her arms, her head on her mother's shoulder. Her small thumb is in her mouth and she's holding her pink blanket tightly in her other hand.

"Holy fucking shit," I whisper when I reach her. If we were two years ago, I would have engulfed her in the warmest and tightest hug ever, but we're now and I can't. Instead, I rub my hands on my eyes a few times before looking at the two women in front of me.

"Congratulations," Eleanor whispers with what looks like a relieved smile on her face. "You did good," she adds.

"Really? I thought I was a little all over the place." Yeah, my words came back! The goofy, stupid smile is still plastered on my face though. She shakes her head softly.

"Right, Han? He was good, huh?" Eleanor turns to face her friend who crosses her arms on her chest. She nods a few times. This is clearly not her scene, but I am glad Eleanor finally has a friend who is willing to accompany her to games. More players start coming out of the locker room, so I pull the girls further from the door. "I just want to say bye to Tracy before we leave. Can I give you Oph?" I extend my arms to try and grab my daughter without waking her up. I give Hannah a questioning look as Eleanor walks towards a blonde woman not too far away from where we were just standing. I recognize Nathan, a left wing, beside the woman. Probably his wife, I say to myself. It's Nathan's fifth year in the NHL, something that I hope will happen to me too. He had to move a lot though, something that I hope will be different for me. Eleanor motions for us to come closer to her.

"Ben, this is Tracy, Nathan Finley's wife. We were sitting near each other during the game and we started talking. Tracy, this is Ben..." She seems to hesitate before saying: "Ophelia's father."

"Hey Tracy, it's nice to meet you. I would shake your hand, but..." She laughs, Eleanor too. Hannah, on the other hand, seems bored to death. She hasn't said a word since I came out of the locker room. "We should go, El. Put the monster to bed." She nods, says bye to Tracy, and follows me. I can't say that I know where I am going. These halls all look the same. Thankfully, they put up some signs with the word "Players' Parking" to tell us which way to go. I follow the signs even if I walked to come here. I had in mind to walk to go back to the hotel as well, but the pack of ladies outside the parking's gate will make it almost impossible for me to go out without being assaulted by the puck bunnies who only want to get in one of the players' pants.

"Think we should call a cab," Eleanor says when she spots the mass of women waiting for the players to come out.

"Yup," I answer.

We end up having to wait for over twenty minutes for our cab. "Call earlier if you don't want to wait on game nights. Busiest nights for us, man," the driver tells me as I sit in the front seat. I mumble something along the lines of me not expecting this crowd. The drive takes us twice the time because of the post-game traffic. We mostly stay silent, but as we near my hotel, I hear Eleanor's voice.

"Tracy said we could go to games together and I said yes. I know it's not your scene," she whispers. I don't hear Hannah's response. The last thing I hear before the driver pulls up at the hotel is: "I just didn't think you would mind me agreeing to this."