After a career-ending fight, ex-professional-hockey-player-turned-Zamboni-driver Chase Cassidy has never looked back at the sport. He's perfectly content cleaning the ice between periods and chatting with fellow staff members, and running a pub outs...
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Chase
After parting ways with Lennon and Spencer, who are treating Miranda to lunch for her birthday, I head back to the arena. There's one more person I need to talk to. And I'm the least anxious about this conversation. Which doesn't make much sense to me. I'm about to walk into the General Manager's office, sit down, and have a conversation with him about hockey—and everything else that happened.
Yet when I push through the doors, and am welcomed by the familiar smell of the arena, all I can feel is calmness. Maybe it's because I'm in my realm. Dr. Ames was right. I never left the team. I've stuck around here for a reason, and now I'm realizing why. Quitting was part of the journey. A hard journey, but one that benefited me.
I deserve to play again.
After scanning my ID, I step into the small side room. It's a square room with two elevators and a security guard. The security guard gives me a wave and I take the elevator up to the offices.
Tobias' office is the second-to-last on the right. The hallway is lined with photos of previous Toronto players: Johnny Bower, King Clancy, Tim Horton, Mats Sundin, Wendel Clark, Borje Salming. Each name resonates with me. When I was a kid, I dreamt of having my jersey number retired amongst these heroes. Of becoming a legacy to younger kids. And the longer I stare at these signed, framed photos, the more I realize how much I want this.
Turning away from the photos, I continue walking. When I arrive at Tobias' door, I don't hesitate. If I hesitate, I fear I'll turn around and walk away—even if I am comfortable with this conversation. What scares me is the possibility of rejection.
"Come in," Tobias calls.
My hand grips the door handle so hard my knuckles are white. When I push through, I see Tobias sitting at his desk. The dark oak is covered with a multitude of papers and the glow of his laptop screen reflects in his glasses. He looks stressed, but I don't read too much into it. My appearance isn't a surprise. After talking to Shaw, I called Tobias and scheduled this meeting. I didn't give him too many details, which didn't seem to bother him.
"Chase," he nods, without looking up. "Take a seat. I'll be with you in a second."
I take the seat across from him, setting my phone, keys, and wallet on the desk. Tobias' office, aside from his desk, is organized and clean. There isn't a single speck of dust on any surfaces and the windows have no streaks. The sun is warm through the thin blinds, adding a golden glow to the room and painting the light grey walls. The wall behind him is a bookcase that's lined with more photos than books. From here, I can see several of Spencer and Lennon, ranging from when they were kids to now. The others are of him and Miranda. Few photos have to do with hockey, which I think is a good thing. Office spaces, despite being meant for your occupation, are still a personal space. The photos make it homey.
Tobias scribbles a few words in his notebook before collecting his papers and returning them to the folder. He stuffs the folder into his desk, then closes his laptop. With a heavy sigh, he leans back in his chair and gestures to me. "I'm all yours. What can I do for you, Chase?"
