Page 77 of Puck Fest
The clinic goes well. The kids are great as usual - enthusiastic, asking questions, working hard on the drills. I teach them the same stuff I’ve been teaching for weeks, but this time it feels different.
Because I know I’m doing it for the last time. And I’m really going to miss it.
During water break, one of the kids skates over to me. He’s maybe ten, wearing a Raptors jersey with my number on the back.
“Are you gonna keep doing these?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“The clinics. Are you gonna keep teaching us?”
I glance at Noah, who’s watching from the boards.
“I don’t know, buddy. This was part of my community service. Now that it’s done...”
“But you’re good at it. And we like learning from you.”
I smile at him. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
“So you’ll think about it?”
“Yeah. I’ll think about it.”
He skates back to the other kids, and I’m left standing there realizing that somewhere along the way, this stopped being punishment and started being something I actually care about.
When the clinic ends and the last kid leaves, Noah walks over.
“That went well,” he says.
“Yeah. They’re really good kids.”
“They asked if you’d come back.”
“Yeah, they asked me, too.” I start packing up my gear. “But I didn’t know what to tell them.”
“You could keep doing it. Even without the mandate. Plenty of players do community outreach voluntarily.”
“Would you still supervise?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t need to supervise anymore. Your probation’s over.”
“Right.” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “So what happens now?”
“Now you’re officially rehabilitated. League’s happy, team’s happy, sponsors are happy. You did the work.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
He glances around, making sure we’re alone. “I know. I guess we just keep being careful. Keep hiding. And we figure out how to make this work without the cover of official supervision.”
“That’s going to be harder.”
“I know.”
“People are going to wonder why we still spend time together,” I say.
“Let them wonder. As long as they don’t know for sure.”
I let out a sigh. “So how long do we keep doing this? Hiding, sneaking around, acting like we’re nothing to each other?”
