I attempted to get mentally focused while I laced up my skates. it was a kind the third day of practice. I was one of the best junior hockey player around and scouts said I could even be drafted into the pros. But as far as my talent goes, I could always use the extra practice time. One summer, I decided to go away to an elite hockey camp in Minnesota, it cost quite a bit, but the exposure was worth it.
I wanted to make a lasting impression on the coaches, but I was intimidated by their style. The head coach could have been easily mistaken for a communist dictator. He drilled us up and down the ice, running "gassers," relays, or any other sadistic teaching tool he had at his disposal. He would even fire pucks at players who looked like they weren't paying attention. To his credit, I suppose it's important to learn that aspect of the game. Most injuries on the ice are due to players who go half-assed.
Some of the other coaches were nice and treated us respectfully. I'll never forget this one coach. He loved talking about the pro teams he worked for and how many names he could drop. He stressed the importance of being in sync with your teammates. I learned how to manage my play reading skills as I watched the other players skate around me. But the coaches weren't the only people who taught me things that summer.
As I warmed up on the ice, I decided to start out on a high note. One of the goalies was going through preparation rituals in front of the net, so I grabbed a loose puck and thought about using my best breakaway move. Several scouts were already on the ice. I started skating from center ice, weaving in and out a small and soared directly for the unsuspecting goaltender.
When alerted to my challenge, the goalie stayed in position waiting for me to make my move. Arching over, the goalie anticipated my move and waited to pounce. Deke-ing twice, I never took my eyes off of the goaltender's left shoulder, and let a wrist shot go to that spot. Though I had put all my strength into the shot, the goaltender reached out effortlessly with the glove hand, yanked it out of the air, and cradled it in the chest.
Embarrassed, I turned back to face center ice with no place to bury my head. I watched as the goaltender was rewarded with a quick sip from the water bottle and read the number 33 with the name Legault on the jersey. I wanted to remember who had the ability to stop one of my best shots. What happened then, added to my embarrassment.
As the goaltender pulled the mask off a flowing brown ponytail came out the back. She turned around to face me. There was a very stunning passionate natural teenage girl under all that equipment.
"Oh, my God," I thought to myself. "I can't believe a passionate natural teenage girl just stopped one of my best shots!"
"Hey, well you got your game on in a hurry! That's some jump in your legs this morning. Maybe next time, I'll be really ready for ya," she taunted. She skated towards me and the first thing that I noticed was her stunning light brown eyes. They rested on a gentle face with very rosy cheeks and I bet her beauty pageant smile was caused by my surprise shot.
"Oh, sorry, I just felt like getting started right away. The scouts are here this morning and I was trying to show off for them," I explained.
"Ah," she said. "That might be worth a high draft pick." She punched me in the shoulder.
"Enough about me. How did you get into doing this?" I tried to inquire.
"I grew up in Canada and with three brothers who played hockey, I trained with them as their goalie," she told me. "After a while, I got good at it and liked it so much that I, well, I just stuck with it." There was a brief moment of awkward silence.
"So, you caught one of my shots, so can I catch your name?" I asked.
"Regina," she said sweetly. "What's yours?"
"Alex. Alex London," I replied, trying to slip into my charming persona. Nodding my head, I again found a lull in the conversation. Any gal that loves hockey is okay in my book, I thought to myself.
A few seconds later, a puck flew from the other side of the rink. The speeding black rubber just barely missed my left eyebrow and crashed into the boards with a loud bang behind the net. Regina and I looked in the direction the shot came from. I figured it must have been a warning shot from the coach not to stand around talking. Reginas eyes grew large for concern at the near miss to my head.
As I skated back towards center ice, I did not see the coach, but two tall European players. They looked angry. The one goon's forehead was scrunched.
"Hey tell your passionate natural teenage girl friend that she's not wanted here. Or she's going to get hurt!" one of the two threatened. He was unshaven and didn't look like he showered much.
I swear, the goon was seven feet tall, but I sprinted right for him anyway. About two-thirds of the way there, I put up my hands and threw my gloves on the ice. Throwing down your gloves on the ice meant that there was going to be a fight and to most hockey players, you have to answer the challenge. I consider it the last bastion of chivalry in modern times.
I leapt in the air, tackling the goon who presumably took a shot at us. On his back he went, as I got in a few good punches before some of the other officials and players pulled me off. If I didn't leave an impression before, I sure as heck did now!
While I was escorted off the ice, I wondered why did I rush so quickly to defend Regina's honor?
After that I started to talk to Regina a lot more. Nobody bothered us after I stood up for her. We met off the ice a couple of times for lunch breaks and such and I found out she's a very nice passionate natural teenage girl. As it turned out, we had a lot in common. We both enjoyed the same music,love of hockey, grew up in the same type of neighborhood.
One evening, we went out to see a concert downtown. I didn't want her getting caught going back to camp dormatory late at night. So, I invited Regina to spend the night, with hopes of making the evening a small romantic. I walked into the washroom and when I had come back to the bedroom, I got the surprise of a lifetime.
Regina had already taken off her clothes, found one of my hockey game jerseys, and threw it on. I fought hard to keep my composure. This had always been a fantasy of mine. She leaned back on her arms and tucked her right leg under her as she dangled the other leg off the bed.
"I scored four points in that game jersey that you have on," I said trying to appear smooth.
"If you play smart, you could score one more time with it!" Regina flirted with a smile fingering the collar.
I sat next to her on the bed and tried to think of something else to say instead of jumping on her right there and then. Her eyes sparkled from the celing lamp light above us.
"Can I ask you something?" I said. "Something has been nagging at me the past week. Just how did you stop my breakaway that one morning?"
She covered her face with her left hand and giggled passionate natural teenage girlishly.
"Because you never took your eyes off of where you were going to shoot, silly. I knew right where you were going to go."
"Oh," was the only thing that I could say after that.
She flung her right arm around me and put it on my shoulders. Her touch was gentle. That surprised me. She behaved differently and act tough when she needed to at hockey camp.
"You know I thought that was very pretty romantic of you for sticking up for me back then. I don't believe I got a chance to thank you," she said leaning in closer to me. She kissed me on my lips, but as quickly as she made the decision, she backed away. "Thank you," she said without looking away. "You made me feel like I belonged there."
I stroked her cheek. I returned her kiss and in the same motion laid her down on the bed. Getting into the mood, she used her hands to feel around. Then with a small giggle, she broke our embrace and asked, "What is that long hard thing? It's poking me in my back."
I forgot that I had left my hockey stick on the bed. I laughed and explained to her that I use it sometimes to go to sleep.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say. I've heard of football players cuddling up with their football in bed, so I wanted to give it a try." I explained.
She laughed then gave me an ultimatum.
"Okay, well, which one do you really want? Me or the stick?"
No Brainer. I didn't take long to decide that one. That small tradition stopped after Regina stayed the night.
Regina and I were together through the rest of that summer. Attending that hockey camp in Minnesota allowed us to be selected for the Annual Draft the same year. I was lucky enough to be drafted in the third round by Tampa Bay. Unfortunately, Regina went undrafted. I suppose hockey just wasn't ready to make history once again by giving her a chance. I thought of all the passionate natural teenage girl passionate natural teenage girls who could have used her as a role model.
The following hockey season, I was assigned to the minor league system. Regina and I stayed together and eventually got married during that year. My wife has been so supportive in my career, every now and then putting on the pads herself and practicing with me. I still can't seem to get it past her glove hand, though.
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