Page 7 of Reckless With the Rookie
“Hey, Art.”
“Hey, you still riding that natural hat trick high?”
“Yeah, that was a great night.”
I was locked in, scoring three goals in a home game against St.Louis.The fans covered the ice with hats and gave me a standing ovation.It was my first natural hat trick in the US.I got teary-eyed when the whole place was cheering for me because I didn’t know if I’d get another chance at it when I was rehabbing.
“Well, I think we should take advantage of your hot streak.I’d like to chat with a few GMs if you’re okay with it.”
I sit in the overly firm leather chair in the corner, thinking about it.
“You don’t think Cleveland will offer me a contract?”
“They haven’t yet.You’re still open to another team, right?If the deal’s good, I mean?”
“Yeah, for sure.If I can get at least three years and the money’s good, I’ll take it.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.Keep doing what you’re doing.No late nights out, no fodder for the rumor mill.Stay focused and we’ll get you the deal you deserve.”
“Okay.”
“How’s Elin?”
Art’s been my agent since I signed with Tampa, and he asks about my sister every time we talk.He even sends her flowers every year on her birthday.
“She’s doing well, thanks for asking.”
“The German place is still working for her?”
“Yeah.My mom’s happy with it.”
“How about you?Other than hockey?Are you feeling more at home in Cleveland?”
I sigh as I stare at the art on the wall across from the chair.Three rectangles of varying sizes, all in muted brown shades.It’s the opposite of the art in Swedish galleries and museums, which is bright, colorful and full of life.
“Home enough.I’m here to get a contract.”
“You still at the hotel?”
“Yeah.It works.”
“I guess you’re living out of a suitcase when you’re on the road anyway.”
“I’m hoping to be living out of a suitcase on the road for the next four or five seasons.”
I need a contract offer.If I’m not making money playing hockey, the only other thing I’m qualified to do is coach, and it would take me a lot of time and luck for that to be as lucrative as playing hockey.
This has to work.My family is counting on me, and I can’t fail them.
“I’ll let you know what I hear,” Art says.“Keep it up.”
“Thanks, Art.”
I have an early morning, so I need to have an easy evening.I’ll probably knit and catch up onSurvivor.
The blast of an RTA train horn pulls me from my thoughts.Those fucking train horns have made me consider switching hotels more than once, but anything close to the arena will still be close to the RTA tracks.
If I can just get a contract—no matter what team it’s with—all the nights I’ve been woken up by those horns will be worth it.
