that” and “now that’s a good idea” went up from the boys.
Sarah laughed. She’d laughed more in the past month than she had in her entire life previous to coming here.
“Well, open it already.” Rick sounded much more like a petulant five-year-old than a six foot, five inch, two hundred sixty pound on-ice pugilist, known more commonly in the hockey world as an enforcer.
From the outside, given the brutal, violent game they played for a living, you would never suspect they were just a bunch of big teddy bears. She loved working with them and seeing all their different views on the game.
Sarah unwrapped the box, which was for a mini-fridge. This was no mini-fridge. With trepidation she removed the tape from the top of the box then opened the top. Inside was another box, heavily taped—with hockey tape, of course. She wasn’t surprised they had used hockey tape to wrap her “gift.”
She lifted the smaller box in her hands and glared at it. “Seriously, you guys? What am I supposed to do with this?”
The group doubled over in laughter. One of the equipment guys took pity on her and passed her a pocket knife. Sarah attempted to cut off the tape, which wasn’t easy since they’d used miles of it stuck on every which way. She struggled until Rick got impatient and did it for her, tearing through the tape with reckless abandon.
In time, he got the box open. Sarah leaned in then let out an exasperated sigh when she found yet another, smaller box. She pulled it out and threw a murderous glare to the room at large.
Everyone guffawed harder. The whole thing would’ve annoyed her, but she understood this was their way of telling her they accepted her. The anger was really only for show. Rick was obviously the ring leader, but Rob, who was falling off his chair with laughter, had no doubt helped.
Next to Rob sat Sebastian, stretching his long legs out into the middle aisle and relaxing back in his chair. Sarah had been ignoring him without much success, but was nonetheless happy he was there. He was definitely a person in her corner and she needed everyone she could get. Right now, he was valiantly attempting not to laugh openly, briefly turning away before watching the action again with an obviously amused smile.
He was taking pleasure in watching her sweat. Of course, if the shoe were on the other foot, she probably couldn’t even be as polite as he was, so she had to forgive him.
After removing, with Rick’s assistance, the scads of hockey tape holding the even smaller box closed, she wrenched it open and found a pair of hockey skates. Would she come to regret her casual mention at practice a few days before that she couldn’t skate but would like to learn? She pulled the skates from the box. “Well, I guess there’s no chickening out now, huh? Thanks, guys.”
Jon, who had come in near the end of this little display, regarded the room with a grin she didn’t trust for a second. “Her first practice should be later today, don’t you think, boys?”
“But—”
“No buts. You can skate with the injured players.”
There was really no reason to put it off, and she knew it. She’d been bested. “Fine.”
Jon quieted everybody down and went through the video she and Doug had produced from practice the day before. Sarah settled into her seat, the warm glow from the acceptance by the players not fading even as the video session wore on.
I love my job.
Near the end of training camp, the team went to an Army boot camp. It was a common practice for teams to go to corporate retreat spots, dude ranches, boot camps, whatever management decided would bond the team together. Sarah was excited. She’d never done anything like the boot camp and, despite the hard work it would inevitably be, it sounded pretty cool. And, the day before they left, Sarah and Doug presented their thick binder full of player evaluations to management, so she’d be able to relax and enjoy herself.
Every day, Jon divided
Sarah laughed. She’d laughed more in the past month than she had in her entire life previous to coming here.
“Well, open it already.” Rick sounded much more like a petulant five-year-old than a six foot, five inch, two hundred sixty pound on-ice pugilist, known more commonly in the hockey world as an enforcer.
From the outside, given the brutal, violent game they played for a living, you would never suspect they were just a bunch of big teddy bears. She loved working with them and seeing all their different views on the game.
Sarah unwrapped the box, which was for a mini-fridge. This was no mini-fridge. With trepidation she removed the tape from the top of the box then opened the top. Inside was another box, heavily taped—with hockey tape, of course. She wasn’t surprised they had used hockey tape to wrap her “gift.”
She lifted the smaller box in her hands and glared at it. “Seriously, you guys? What am I supposed to do with this?”
The group doubled over in laughter. One of the equipment guys took pity on her and passed her a pocket knife. Sarah attempted to cut off the tape, which wasn’t easy since they’d used miles of it stuck on every which way. She struggled until Rick got impatient and did it for her, tearing through the tape with reckless abandon.
In time, he got the box open. Sarah leaned in then let out an exasperated sigh when she found yet another, smaller box. She pulled it out and threw a murderous glare to the room at large.
Everyone guffawed harder. The whole thing would’ve annoyed her, but she understood this was their way of telling her they accepted her. The anger was really only for show. Rick was obviously the ring leader, but Rob, who was falling off his chair with laughter, had no doubt helped.
Next to Rob sat Sebastian, stretching his long legs out into the middle aisle and relaxing back in his chair. Sarah had been ignoring him without much success, but was nonetheless happy he was there. He was definitely a person in her corner and she needed everyone she could get. Right now, he was valiantly attempting not to laugh openly, briefly turning away before watching the action again with an obviously amused smile.
He was taking pleasure in watching her sweat. Of course, if the shoe were on the other foot, she probably couldn’t even be as polite as he was, so she had to forgive him.
After removing, with Rick’s assistance, the scads of hockey tape holding the even smaller box closed, she wrenched it open and found a pair of hockey skates. Would she come to regret her casual mention at practice a few days before that she couldn’t skate but would like to learn? She pulled the skates from the box. “Well, I guess there’s no chickening out now, huh? Thanks, guys.”
Jon, who had come in near the end of this little display, regarded the room with a grin she didn’t trust for a second. “Her first practice should be later today, don’t you think, boys?”
“But—”
“No buts. You can skate with the injured players.”
There was really no reason to put it off, and she knew it. She’d been bested. “Fine.”
Jon quieted everybody down and went through the video she and Doug had produced from practice the day before. Sarah settled into her seat, the warm glow from the acceptance by the players not fading even as the video session wore on.
I love my job.
Near the end of training camp, the team went to an Army boot camp. It was a common practice for teams to go to corporate retreat spots, dude ranches, boot camps, whatever management decided would bond the team together. Sarah was excited. She’d never done anything like the boot camp and, despite the hard work it would inevitably be, it sounded pretty cool. And, the day before they left, Sarah and Doug presented their thick binder full of player evaluations to management, so she’d be able to relax and enjoy herself.
Every day, Jon divided
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