Page 72 of Crushing on the Coach
“Ask Anson. He’ll do it.”
He shrugs. “I thought of you first. New in town, needing to make new friends...”
“Really? Are you friends with the women you hook up with?”
“I’d say we’refriendly. Maybe not friends, per se...”
I consciously decided when I made the Crush roster that I’m not making any close friends. Hockey is a brotherhood, and I’d do anything for one of my teammates if they needed it, but I need to keep my distance.
After a decade of playing in Europe, I didn’t have close ties there anymore that kept me from the North American league. Ithought I’d made it when I got to Tampa. Bought a house, hung out with my teammates all the time, and then I got injured.
I spiraled. The team management didn’t think I’d be able to make it back to my former level of play at my age, so I got cut.
I went from having a family and friends in Sweden, to having friends who were like family in Tampa, to nothing. My teammates kept in touch, but with them so busy playing hockey, it dwindled to the occasional text.
The thirteen months I spent rehabbing were dark. I was alone most of the time, and no one could promise me I’d be as good as I was before the injury. I moved to Minneapolis so I could work with a team of experts in rehabbing hockey injuries.
Grinding twelve hours a day on every type of rehab I could do, plus keeping myself in shape. It drained me in every way—physically, mentally, and financially.
Though I made great money in Europe, I needed that money to support my family. I still send money back home, so I’m careful with what I have. I can’t carelessly drop big money on cars and homes like other players, because there’s no guarantee I’ll still be making this money in a year.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell Isaac, just to get him off my back.
I’ve had buddies who like multiple sex partners at once. But sharing women with my teammates is the opposite of keeping them at arm’s length. Isaac’s just bitter over finding out the woman he was after—Jules—has secretly been with Coach Turner for months. He thinks he can fuck the hurt away.
I’m more of a one-woman man. Not that I’ve been with a woman in a long time. Just staying at the level I need to be at in hockey takes everything I’ve got.
Maybe a few years down the road, when I retire, I’ll want a woman in my life. When I have a place to bring her that doesn’t smell like a locker room and a landfill had a baby, and the time to invest in someone other than myself.
That’s a long way away, though. Until then, I only have enough headspace for hockey.
