I walk into the dressing room just as the tailor finishes sewing the "C" onto my jersey. As the first member of the team to arrive, I get to pick the music that everyone else has to listen to as they enter the dressing room.
Booking my phone up to the mini speaker system, I blast American Idiot by Green Day.
"Don't wanna be an American idiot!" I sing along as I find my stall. The next Bruins game won't be until tomorrow evening, so none of the players are here.
The tailor hangs my jersey in the stall that usually belongs to the Bruins' Tuukka Rask. I thank him, walk over to the jersey, and place my bag of equipment at the foot of the stall. I sit down and decide to play some games on my phone while waiting for my teammates.
I have about five minutes to myself before I hear a very loud fart at the doorway. Snapping my head up, I see the one and only Mohammed al-Hashim, laughing hysterically while standing next to his girlfriend, Ryan.
"Excuse you, Mo!" I smirk at him, and he laughs even harder.
"Actually, that was me," Ryan giggles, and Mohammed is practically dying of laughter next to her.
"Ryan!" I exclaim. "Well, then, girls can toot. Mohammed, your stall is where Bergeron usually sits. There's a 37 on the top of it."
"I see it," Mohammed strolls over to where his jersey is hanging. "What an honor! Momentarily sharing the same stall as Patrice freakin' Bergeron!"
"I know!" I signal behind me. "I'm sitting where Tuukka Rask usually sits! I'd be psyched if I didn't hate his team so much."
"Right? Go Lightning!" Ryan cheers.
"Rangers!" Mohammed and I say at the same time.
"And a little bit of Habs," I shrug, rolling my eyes at the Bruins logo on the floor.
My sister walks into the locker room then, marveling at the fact that she is in the exact room where the Bruins prepare for their games.
"What's this about the Habs?" North Tower flips her silver hair.
"We were all just saying teams we like more than the Boston Bruins," I smirk at my twin.
"Rude!" North Tower comes over and shoves me. "Hey, check this shit out! You're in Tuukka Rask's stall! No way, dude!"
"Pretty sick, huh?" I ask. "You're getting dressed in Zdeno Chara's stall! Which is unfair, by the way, since I'm the captain."
"You're a Habs fan, you wouldn't be happy about getting dressed there anyway!" My sister shoves me playfully before running over to Chara's stall like an excited little girl.
"Bandwagon," I roll my eyes and giggle as one of our temporary teammates, Brad Johnston of the Gloversville Mud Hens, walks in and turns off the 2000's hits station I had playing.
"You ass," I giggle, and he turns around and shrugs.
"Sorry," he laughs, sticking out his hand for me to shake. "I'm Brad."
"I've seen you around," I politely shake his hand. "I'm looking forward to what you can do for the Southern Division team this weekend, temporary teammate."
"So am I," Brad answers as he walks towards his stall, which ironically also belongs to a Boston Bruins player known as Brad Marchand.
About half an hour later, every player on the team is inside the locker room and dressed in full gear. Little Falls Lynx head coach Fred Cullen, who has been selected by the NYHL as the head coach of the Southern a Division, stands at the front of the room.
"Players!" Coach Cullen announces. "The 2019 Skills Competition is set to begin in 10 minutes. Is everyone ready to get out there and perform for the fans?"
The room cheers.
"Great," Cullen nods in approval. "Remember, people, we're not in New York anymore. A lot of these people haven't seen us before. I want you to go out there and show them that we're the best damn semi-pro players in the country!"
Everyone agrees loudly once again, and Coach tells us to line up by the door. We do, every one of us eager to go out into the hallway. Once everyone is out of the room, the Bruins PA announcer begins his speech.
"And now, fans, please welcome...the SOUTHERN DIVISION!" He yells, and a tremendous cheer arises from the 17,565 fans in attendance. "They will be led onto the ice by their captain, Albany Capitals goaltender, number 38...South Tower Staten!"
We are the last team to skate onto the ice, so the competition begins immediately.
All three Capitals are competing in something, but only two win their competitions. I place first in Shutout Streak with eight saves in a row, and Mohammed al-Hashim wins Accuracy Shooting by hitting all five targets in 12.73 seconds. He finishes just ahead of my sister, who has a time of 13.29 seconds.
After everything is finished, the winners are given their awards. As I smile for a picture with my husband, my twin sister, and her husband, I spot Ryan Jensen out of the corner of my eye. She approaches Mohammed and greets her boyfriend of just under a month with a warm kiss on the cheek. She presents him with flowers and some sort of candy bar.
I skate over to her, and she smiles when she sees me. "You haven't known Mohammed that long and you're already spoiling the man!"
"He deserves it," she giggles, and Mohammed laughs behind her.
"I suppose he does," I smile at them both as my sister skates up to the three of us.
"Are you all ready for the Southern Division's first game on Wednesday?" She asks.
"Big time," Mohammed says.
"I'm going to cheer as hard as I can for you guys to make it to the Finals!" Ryan adds as she takes Mohammed's hand in hers.
"I'll try my best to make great saves," I looked down at my thick leg pads.
"...And I'll score the goals that I was born to score!" My sister finishes.
After doing a big group photo with Mohammed, Ryan, my sister, her husband, my husband, and me, I head back to the locker room to change.
Standing in the hallway is someone I never expected to see at this event.
YOU ARE READING
Triumph {The Manhattan Trilogy #3}
General FictionNorth Tower. It is shocking to her that it's the year 2011. It's already been ten years since her death! Yes, sometimes she has nightmares about it. She's mostly moved on, though. She has a wonderful boyfriend that she is sure she wants to marry som...
