The Hockey Life

PART SIXTY-THREE: LET THE OLYMPIC GAMES BEGIN
I thought time would fly, but I quickly realized that I had never been more wrong in my life. The next day, a tragedy happened in Patrick’s family. His grandfather, Donald Kane, passed away. I had met him at Thanksgiving, and he was one of the sweetest men I had ever met. He was very kind to me and it was clear to me then that Patrick had an amazing relationship with him. I had heard stories about the two of them as well - they were basically best friends. Pat had not only lost a family member, but a best friend. Nobody deserved that.
Patrick got the call about an hour before we both had to head to the United Center for a game. When he answered his phone, I didn’t know who it was or what it was about. All I knew was that I could practically feel his heart sink, and his voice was timid as he spoke. As soon as he hung up the phone, I was afraid to ask any questions, but I had to.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I wondered.
“My grandpa passed.” His voice shook. “Grandpa Kane.”
I wanted to say sorry. I did. But I had lost my grandpa when I was eleven years old. He had Alzheimer’s, so it was difficult for us to have a really good relationship, but we had a decent enough one for him to have nicknames for me and inside jokes with me, and I loved him no matter what. I couldn’t talk about him without crying for a long time, so I hated when people asked me about him. The wake and the funeral were the absolute worst. I didn’t want people to tell me they were sorry, because I didn’t want to have to talk about it. That was why I didn’t tell Patrick I was sorry. I didn’t have to, because he knew. So instead, I wrapped my arms around him and didn’t let go for a good ten minutes. Neither of us spoke, but he cried, and I cried with him.
Patrick was an emotional guy. Every once in a while he would watch a movie that would make him shed a tear or two. I had experienced that before. But I had never seen him cry like this. He had never been this upset about anything around me, and I couldn’t stand to see him so broken. Then I realized that we had to leave soon, because he had a game. He couldn’t play in that game, there was no way. He would be unfocused and all over the place. I told him he should tell Coach and see if he could be excused, but he shot down that idea right away.
“No, I’m not missing this game. I have to play,” he told me. “I have to play for him.”
Sure enough, he did play, but he was by no means unfocused or all over the place. Nobody really even knew what had happened before the game, and if they did, they wouldn’t believe it. Pat was unbelievable. He scored twice, and he saluted the sky after the first goal, a tribute to his grandpa. He wasn’t lying when he said he needed to play for him. For someone who was broken before the game, he sure was a trooper during it. I was unbelievably angry when the reporters ruined that afterwards, asking him about his grandpa. I wanted him to tell them off, or at least kindly pass on their questions, but he was a trooper about that too. He cried a little more, but he answered their questions anyways. He was not too egotistical to show emotion to the world, and I was so glad to find that out. I knew that the funeral and the wake would be tough, but I also knew that he was strong and he’d get through it, and he did, with his parents, sisters, and myself by his side.
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It seemed like the Olympics were happening right after all of that was over. I felt so bad for Patrick. He was under a lot of pressure to do well and he still needed time to heal, but he was still excited to go to Sochi. I was too. I was eager throughout the whole plane ride, and when we finally touched down and got out of the plane, I was amazed just by the fact that I was in such a different country.
Sochi was absolutely crazy. There were tons of people there for the Olympic games. Some were nice, while others seemed to have no compassion for others whatsoever. Things were a little crowded, what with all the people, but it died down a bit once we got to the Olympic Village, although there were a lot more athletes there than I had thought there would be. I guess I forgot about how many different events there were and how many countries competed against each other. The cool thing about it all was that I got to meet quite a few Olympians, eventually. To me, they were all so inspiring, and I was starstruck just being around them.
“I know a few of them from 2010, you know. I can introduce you if you want,” Patrick offered.
“Of course I want you to introduce me. Do you know anyone on the women’s hockey team?”
“I know a few from the US, yeah,” he answered. “You should probably meet my new teammates first, though. Or at least my roommate.”
Pat’s roommate was Ryan Callahan of the Tampa Bay Lightning. I was introduced to him and he seemed like a pretty nice guy. I met a lot of other guys on the US hockey team as well. I knew their names and faces, and even some of their specialties on the ice, but I had never spoken to them before. They had always been enemies on the opposing team, but now they were teammates to Patrick and people I would be cheering on. It was strange knowing that.
After meeting the majority of the men’s US hockey team, I moved on to women’s hockey the next day. They were all girls that I looked up to, so I was almost nervous to meet them. I wished I could BE them. I talked nervously to them until I realized that there was no reason to worry about messing anything up. I got comfortable talking to them and suddenly they weren’t famous Olympians that I was meeting, but they were new friends that I was making.
On February 13th, Pat and his temporary team had their first game in the preliminary round. It was against Slovakia. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. They weren’t all that used to playing with each other even though they had practiced together multiple times. They weren’t used to playing games as a team and I wasn’t sure how well they would work together. However, it quickly became apparent that I had no reason to worry, at least not about this game. They easily won 7-1. It was just one game, and they still had a long way to go, but it was a great start for them, for Patrick. He had a really tough week with the loss of his grandpa, and he needed a good distraction, something that would build up his happiness and confidence. I think this helped with that.
“Nice win,” I told him after he had showered and gotten back into normal clothes after the game. Being an athletic trainer, I got to be around Team USA a lot - during practices, games, pre-game and post-game. It was like it was in Chicago, but it seemed like a much bigger privilege in Sochi.
“Thanks,” Patrick said as he pulled me close for a hug. “Sorry I couldn’t score for you. Maybe next time,” he apologized, as if that was my biggest concern. I pretended it was even though it wasn’t, since he had grown accustomed to my sarcasm.
“You better!” I joked.
The next day was Valentine’s Day. In the past, Patrick and I had both worked hard on buying or making really nice or expensive gifts for holidays like this one, but with the Olympics going on and the recent birthdays and holidays, we decided we would keep things pretty laid back. Patrick had a practice earlier in the day, but we would have the rest of the day all to ourselves, which was great.
Practice went well, and I met up with Pat afterwards so we could hang out and exchange gifts before dinner.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he told me.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I answered, and he kissed me without bothering to wait for his teammates to disperse.
“Couples are the worst,” Ryan Callahan commented.
“You’re the worst,” Patrick rebounded.
“Oh, come on. Don’t pretend I’m not the best roommate you’ve ever had,” Callahan laughed.
“Well, you are a better roommate than Tazer, that’s for sure…” A few of the guys chuckled and said their “see you laters” as they headed to their rooms to relax. I headed to my own room to grab the candy that I had arranged to look like a flower bouquet and then I located Patrick’s room, where he was alone. Callahan apparently had promised he’d be out of the room until later when he was ready to sleep, knowing that we would want to celebrate Valentine’s Day together.
“We agreed to not go very big this year, so I made you a bouquet,” I told Patrick as I handed over the delicious sweets.
“I have a bouquet for you too, but it’s made of flowers instead of chocolate,” he answered. He handed over red roses, which he knew I loved. He also gave me what seemed to be the biggest box of chocolates he could find, which I wasn’t about to complain about. I had a bit of a chocolate craving, so I opened the box right away and chose a milk chocolate with creamy caramel in the middle. Patrick took a couple Twizzlers out of his candy arrangement to enjoy.
“I’m so glad you could come here with me,” he said when he was done chewing.
“Me too. This is such a cool experience so far. I love that I get to be here with you,” I told him.
“I love you,” Patrick reminded me.
“I love you too.” He kissed me softly and I inched closer to him, closing the gap between us. He deepened the kiss but stopped too quickly in order to tease me. He wore a giant grin on his face when he ended it, and I just rolled my eyes and pulled him close to me again. I ran my fingers through his blonde curls as he returned to kissing me. We backed into one of the small beds in the room, the one he slept in. I fell back onto it and he pinned me there, not that I wanted to leave anyways. His hand caressed my thigh, then my side, and his lips moved to my neck. I felt the muscles in his arms and wanted more. I pulled his shirt off of him and my hands moved down to his abs. Pretty soon I was lacking my long-sleeved Hawks shirt and he was fumbling with my belt while I started tracing his v-lines with my fingers.
“It’s beautiful girls like you who are the reason that they provide us with these,” Patrick said as he pulled a condom out of the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed.
“How can you be sure persuasive guys like you aren’t the reason?” I asked.
“Maybe it’s both,” he decided.
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For dinner, we had lasagna with garlic bread on the side, and there was chocolate cake for dessert. Needless to say that I got my chocolate fix for the day. We spent as much time together as possible until it started to get late and we knew we would have to wake up at a decent time. After all, the game against Russia that everyone was waiting for was scheduled for the next day, and Patrick wanted to help his team beat them for at least a two-game winning streak to kick things off. The day had somehow exhausted me, so when I climbed into my own twin-sized bed, I fell asleep in just a couple minutes without tossing or turning at all.

Notes