Page 1 of Offside

Chapter 1

Sam

August, 2017

Getting traded never got any easier.

Five teams in five years–you know how much you had to suck at people skills to get traded that much?

The thing was, I wasn’t a bad player. I was consistent and reliable…but not so personable. I didn’t like forcing myself to get to know teammates with whom I had nothing in common, and I didn’t want to waste any time on it.

But look where that got me.

San Jose, California, for not even the first time.

Yep, that’s right, folks–I got traded back to the team that first drafted me five years ago.

So, this technically only made it four teams in five years, right?

“Welcome back, Karts,” Jayden said, laughing and patting my back as he and Shane Riley, his current defense partner, continued down the arena hall.

The first day of training camp…for a team I’d played on so recently that I still knew most of the players.

Jayden Baskle–now captain of the Sharks–used to be my defense partner when I was drafted. I was only a second string at the time, but we ran like magic together–it was as much a shock to him when I got traded as it was to me.

Making friends was never really easy for me, but I did it with Jayden. We were pretty good buddies–so good that I really thought we’d still talk when I got traded to Anaheim.

I guess being traded in the same conference meant that even being friends was off the table until I was back in teal and white again.

Well, he did text me on my birthday every year, so there was that.

I was excited to be back, contrary to how sarcastic I sounded or how awkwardly I was moving through these once familiar halls. There was just an adjustment period after being traded–I went through it every time.

About a week of feeling sorry for myself, followed by the entirety of training camp, trying to make it seem like I was already comfortable in my new rink.

At least this year, maybe I wouldn't spend all of training camp with a mask on.

Walking into the dressing room was always weird on that first day, but it helped that I still knew so many of the guys. Wes and Drew were still there, but they’d die as Sharks, especially now that Wes’s brother, Keaton, got drafted there.

So no real surprise they were my welcoming committee at my cubby.

They were my welcoming committee when I was eighteen, too.

Now I was twenty-three, and seasoned by trades.

“Well, well, well–you grew up on us, Karts,” Wes chided, gripping my shoulder tight in his abnormally large hands and shaking. “Welcome back, buddy–it’s good to see a Shark logo on that chest again,” he said a little softer–more sincerely–while offering me the kindest smile I’d seen since I got traded.

While I was on vacation.

Nope–not holding a grudge over an ESPN blast interrupting my family trip to Cancun.

…

Okay, but like, not even a call from my old GM in Florida?

Nothing?

I get that I was only there for half the season, but come on–common courtesy.