"Gold's goin' to Canada. Sweden will get the silver. Bronze goes to the U.S." Scott adjusted his red cap as he turned to his friend, Viktor with a large grin.
Viktor let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back as he walked alongside his friend. "No, no, no, no, no. Sweden gold. Canada silver. And U.S. bronze," he corrected as he swung a large blue bag over his shoulder.
"Ay, Jenser!!"
Scott immediately perked his head up, his dark eyebrows rising as he searched the large outside area filled with countless athletes and trainers.
A tall young man dressed in red from head to toe, just like Scott, stood apart from the crowd, waving his arms in the air. "Team Canada is this way!!" he called to Scott, pointing toward the buildings behind him.
Scott nodded at him before turning to Viktor, standing next to him. "See ya at the gold medal match!"
"Better start practicing now for silver, Jensy!" Viktor shot back with a wide smile.
Scott let out a laugh as he headed toward his tall teammate waiting for him.
"Bribing the enemy?" the tall teammate raised an eyebrow at him as Scott joined him.
"What?" Scott asked with a smile.
"That guy you were just talking to was wearing a Team Sweden Jacket," the tall teammate pointed out with a nod.
"Oh, come on, James!" Scott let out a chuckle. "That's Viktor. We're teammates back at school. We play for the same team. He's not my enemy."
"Well, for the next couple weeks," James began as he and Scott entered the building, "he's the enemy."
"What?" Scott cried as he raised his eyebrows at James.
"Hey, as long as he's wearing blue and you're wearing red, no friendliness."
"That's so mean."
James let out a chuckle as he turned the red cap on top of his head backwards. "That's the Olympics."
Scott simply shook his head as he pulled down on the brim of his red cap. "So, when's the first practice?"
James laughed. "It already started!"
"What?! But-but we just landed, like, two hours ago!"
"Hey, Coach says that as long the gold medals are here and we're here, not a minute is going to waste. Hope you got all your gear with ya."
"Yup," Scott replied with a groan as he adjusted the large bag on his shoulder. "Show me the way to the locker rooms!"
Scott followed closely behind James as they rushed through the crowd inside the building before turning sharply and heading down a long hallway.
"Ay, Nollsy!" a deep voice shouted.
James's bright eyes lifted as he looked up. "Yeah?"
A tall, bald man equipped in hockey gear and a red and white jersey walked toward the two hockey players. He held a tall hockey stick in his right hand and a black hockey helmet in his left. "Everyone is already out there. Better get goin'."
"Yeah, yeah. Alright, Ryan." James nodded as he walked past Ryan, the tall player.
Ryan looked at Scott. "Glad to see ya made it, Jensy. See ya on the ice!" He slapped Scott on the back before walking down the hallway.
Scott watched in silence as the tall hockey player walked away before turning to James and knitted his brow. "He's never that nice to me out on the ice. I didn't even think he knew my name!"
James simply shrugged. "Hey, you're wearing the same jersey as him now. Might as well act like teammates," he told the young hockey player as he stepped up to a doorway and opened the door.
Scott crinkled his nose as he scratched his brown hair and entered the large locker room after James. "The Olympics are strange."
After pulling on their gear and red Team Canada jerseys, the two hockey players headed to the practice arena to join the rest of the team.
"Hey, look who made it!" called out a teammate as the Scott and James stepped out onto the cold, crisp ice.
"Jenser. Nollen." An older man nodded at them gruffly from the bench alongside the ice. "Glad you could join us here in Pyeonchang. You're just in time to participate in the warm-up drills. The fellas will fill you in on what to do." He pointed to the far corner of the rink where the team stood, prepared with their sticks in their glove-covered hands and an array of black pucks laid out on the ice in front of them.
"Got it, Coach!" Scott replied with a smile before skating over to his team. "So, what's the drill?"
"Uh--" a skater with dark brown hair and a beard turned to James as he joined them. "Nollsy, do you know what we're supposed to be doing here?"
James's eyebrows could be seen knitting together behind his transparent visor. "Me? Come on, guys! I just got here."
"Hey, what are we doing?" A short player asked from the front of the line as he turned to his team.
"We're supposed to be doing the drill!" Ryan replied loudly. "Come on, Patrick, didn't you hear Coach? You are the team captain."
"Yeah, but I didn't get any of it. I'm a visual learner!!" the short player responded before erupting into loud laughter.
James and Scott exchanged looks along with the rest of the team.
"Here, I'll go first." Ryan pushed his way to the front of the line.
Taking a puck to the blade of the stick, he skated with ease along the ice. The brisk, cold air blew through his red jersey as he picked up speed, all while keeping the puck in perfect control with the blade of his stick.
"Pfft. Show off," the bearded hockey player huffed, putting his hands on his hips.
"Then show us what you got, Paul!" Coach called from the benches. "You aren't playing for Canada for nothin'!!"
"Alright, alright," the bearded hockey player, Paul, murmured before slowly skating to the front of the line.
He effortlessly reached out his stick to grab a puck before skating down the perimeter of the ice rink at the sound of the whistle. His speed increased with each stride he took. The blades of his skate cutting into the ice echoed throughout the empty arena. With ease, he moved the blade of the stick from side to side, keeping the puck perfectly in line with the stick, never loosing control of it.
"Well done, Paul," Coach exclaimed as Paul broke to a halt at the back of the line behind the bald hockey player.
"That was nothin'," Paul replied in between shallow breaths. "Could've done it in my sleep."
Scott turned to Paul with a laugh before the high shrill of the whistle filled the arena.
"Jenser! You're next!!" barked Coach.
"On it!" Scott replied as he skated to the front of the line and fetched a puck with his stick.
With quick agility, he glided across the ice, one skate in front of the other. He rounded corners swiftly while holding his hockey stick with one hand in front of him, keeping the puck up to speed with him. His arms at his sides propelled his body as he gained speed and moved with great force around the ice rink.
"Alright, bring it in, fellas!" Coach announced as he stepped out into the ice, directly in front of Scott's path.
Scott's eyes widened as he spotted Coach standing right in front of him as he skated at full speed towards him. "Whoa!" Scott exclaimed as he quickly dodged to the left and leapt into the air, completing, one, two, three, full turns in the air before landing smoothly on his left foot.
"Nice footwork, Jenser." Coach nodded at him before walking further down the ice toward the awaiting team.
Scott, however, slowly skated toward the boards before leaning his body against them as he let out a huge sigh.
"Hey, man. That was pretty sick."
Scott looked up to see Paul skating up to him with a wide grin.
"Heh, thanks," Scott replied hesitantly as he reached over the boards to retrieve his water bottle.
"Yeah, it kinda reminded me of those tricks those skaters do. Are you going to watch any of the events?" Paul turned to Scott.
Scott brought his water bottle down before looking at his teammate. "Uh, events?"
"Yeah, the figure skating events. A bunch of the guys and I are gonna watch the women's figure skating events . . . to show some support for Canada, y'know," he added with a smirk.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess I could join you guys," Scott replied in a strain voice as he struggled to loosen the fastened strap on his white helmet.
"Sweet. We're heading out there after practice," Paul told him, before patting Scott's leg playfully with his hockey stick and skating off.
Scott scrunched his nose in reply as he continued to fiddle with the helmet strap. "Sounds like a plan!" he called out, before the strap finally snapped free. "Finally!" He let out an exasperated sigh.
The first practice for the Team Canada Olympic hockey team went on to be brutal and intense. Once Coach blew the final whistle, the players exited the ice one by one, panting as they slowly trudged their way to the locker rooms.
"Coach is insane!" James cried out upon entering the locker room and plopping himself on the bench.
"It wasn't that bad. Toughen up, Nollsy," Ryan told him with a playful shove. He then took a seat next to him and began unlacing his skates.
"Yeah, it's only the first practice," Scott added with a laugh as he pulled his jersey over his head.
"Speaking of practice," Paul spoke up as he stepped in the doorway, already dressed out of his hockey equipment and now wearing dark jeans and a casual t-shirt. "The girls are already out there warming up if you wanna check 'em out." He gestured with his thumb behind him.
"No, thanks. I need a nap," Ryan replied as he stood up and removed his helmet. "The time zone is so crazy over here, I don't even know what day it is."
"Aren't we, like, two days ahead over here?" Patrick asked.
"It's, like, fourteen hours ahead. Come on, guys, it's not that bad." Paul mumbled before walking away.
It remained quiet in the locker room as the players continued dressing out, before the short teammate spoke up.
"Is . . . no one going to ask how Paul got dressed out so quickly? I didn't even see him come in here."
"Beats me," James shrugged as he zipped up his equipment bag and placed a red Team Canada cap backwards on top of his ginger hair. "You guys coming to see the figure skating or not?"
"I'm goin'! I'm goin'! Wait up," Scott answered hastily as he scrambled to stuff all of his hockey gear in the oversized bag. After much of a battle, Scott zipped up his red Team Canada jacket and jogged after his teammate out of the locker room.
"Sweet. You guys made it," Paul said as Scott and James joined him outside of the locker room. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and began walking down the hallway. "It's gonna start soon. Come on."