Joelle Morrow has her focus set on the future. As an up-and-coming lingerie designer, she's overcome multiple setbacks on the road to achieving her dream of opening her own boutique but has yet to be knocked down, leaving her no time to think about...
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After nearly three hours in the air sat next to a businessman doused in cologne and across from two parents who'd been unable to stop their young daughter from crying, the plane touched down on the tarmac at Logan International.
Home.
It'd been a long time coming—years since I'd left to pursue my dream of playing professional hockey, only to end up in the AHL—and now, I wasn't just back for a visit.
I was back for good. As the newest member of the Boston Knights.
The last couple days had been a whirlwind, leaving me stuck in a continuous state of suspended disbelief. After all, I'd known negotiations had been going on for a few weeks, but with each passing day, the preseason began to wind down and I still found myself playing in St. Louis, making it seem like the prospect of jumping to the big leagues was once again out of reach.
Until I got the call that the deal had gone through.
Then I was signing a once-in-a-lifetime contract, packing my life into cardboard boxes, and calling my twin brother to give him the good news.
Yet for some reason, none of it felt real until the moment I stepped off the plane, determined not to waste the chance I'd be given.
Ignoring the endless chatter and overhead announcements that brought the terminal to life, I weaved my way through the growing afternoon crowds, finally switching my phone off airplane mode as the baggage carousel came into sight. And almost as though he was tracking my movements, a call came through from my agent, Henry, no more than a few moments later.
"Hey, man. I just landed."
"All in one piece I'm assuming?"
I rolled my eyes at the obvious, but held back the sarcastic retort on the tip of my tongue. In this instance—after putting in endless hours to convince the Knights organization I was worth the gamble—he got a pass. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now remember, I arranged for a member of the front office to meet you in the arena's lobby at three."
It was half past one now. "Anything I should expect?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. They'll likely plan to show you around, have you sit down with some of the staff, you know, to answer any questions that weren't cleared up when you signed the contract, and if they're around, be ready to meet your new teammates. And pray god, make a good first impression."
When I spotted my navy suitcase on the luggage conveyor belt, I balanced my phone between my shoulder and cheek to grab it. "You think that'll be a problem?"
"Honestly, no." He chuckled, a brief lapse from his no-nonsense tone. "But you're not in the AHL anymore. This team is another level—with better coaches, more experienced staff, and players who fought as hard as you, or harder, to get to where they are. So remember that."
