Hat Trick 3: Penalty Shot (4 page)

“Good to meet you, TJ. I’ll see you at the team meeting or back here, whichever comes first. And don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Promise. Thanks, Simon. It was good to meet you, finally.”

I headed upstairs for my meetings, happy I’d gotten the chance to meet TJ. I would definitely talk to Dee, too, as it would be very good for me to sit in and learn from her group.

Scottie had the players, the paperwork, and the fees ready to go. On the way to work, I met him at the rink so we could turn everything in to the league director. As I parked, Scottie and his dad got out of their car.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Scottie’s dad asked him as I walked up.

“So ready,” Scottie said. “Hey, Simon.” He put out a fist for me to bump, which I, of course, did.

“Hey, Scottie. Mr. Polan, good to see you.” I shook hands with his dad.

The lot was nearly full. Since it was after school, there were a lot of people here for hockey and figure skating. This was a huge four rink facility and a pretty good one, too. I’d been here before doing events as part of the Wolverines’ support of youth hockey. Scottie’s team would play here multiple times in the coming season, and we would get some practice time here as well.

“Before you go in, Scottie, you should know I’m proud of you.” Mr. Polan gently gripped Scottie by the shoulders. “You could’ve walked away from hockey for the season, or complained non-stop about what happened. Instead you took on the problem and created something that not only gets you what you want, but gets others playing, too. I’m impressed.”

I wished I’d been just a couple minutes later so that I wasn’t interrupting this family moment, but part of me loved seeing it. I’m glad Scottie had such great support at home.

“Thanks, Dad. I couldn’t do anything but this. Griping isn’t my thing. I
had
to play this year. I’d go crazy otherwise.”

His dad nodded while smiling broadly. “I know what you’re like when you’re not playing. I remember that month you sat out injured. That’s why I know it’s possible for you to gripe, or more accurately whine.”

Scottie held up a hand to get him to stop. “Okay, enough of that.”

We laughed and Scottie gave his dad a hug. Scottie had amazing depth for his age. He’d seemed superficial at first, but the more I was around him, the more he revealed how complex he was. He didn’t even hesitate to hug his dad in public, which a lot of teenagers wouldn’t do. He knew how to focus, like when he was in net. Alex and I would’ve missed out if we’d blown him off based on our first impression.

“Let’s do this.” Scottie headed towards the entrance. I fell in next to him, but his dad stayed behind. “You coming?” he asked, looking back at his dad.

“Nope.” Mr. Polan shook his head. “This is your gig, and you’ve got Simon with you. Now, if you have a problem, text me and I’ll come right in. But you’ve got this.”

“Yes, I do.”

Scottie was beaming, proud to be doing this without his dad. I didn’t know Mr. Polan well, but it was obvious he loved his son and it was cool he was letting Scottie do this on his own.

As we entered, there was activity everywhere. It looked like it was between sessions, with some guys coming off the ice and headed to change, coaches meeting with players, and others hauling gear into locker rooms to get ready.

“You’ve got everything?” I asked Scottie as he took a large envelope out of his jacket pocket.

“Yup.”

“You,” came a voice from behind. “You’re the queer that’s trying to take Walt away from us.”

We turned. Scottie was face-to-face with a big guy who had a classic defenseman look. He wore a Raiders jersey. Before I could say anything about the guy’s attitude and choice of words, Scottie was talking.

“Walt’s a friend,” Scottie said, in his usually peppy voice. If he was intimidated at all, he didn’t show it. “He asked if he could join and I said yes.”

“Do you actually have a team?”

A few other Raiders came over and clustered around the guy talking.

“I’m here to get us registered.”

 “Just know that we’ll beat the crap out of you if you take one of our forwards.”

“I trust you mean you’ll beat us at the game.” I inserted myself between Scottie and the kid who’d finally said too much. “We won’t tolerate any unsportsmanlike conduct.”

“And who’re you, his boyfriend?” The kid laughed, and some of his teammates did, too.

“Simon Roberts, his coach.” I used the same voice I used on the youth group when they weren’t behaving.

“Roberts? Wolverines Simon Roberts?” One of his teammates pieced that together, even though I wasn’t wearing any Michigan clothing

“Yes.” I let the information sink in a moment. “Now are we done here?”

“Raiders! Let’s go.” That had to be their coach because they all moved towards the commanding voice.

“Yeah, we’re done.” The kid was not happy and I suspected we’d have trouble with him later.

“Dude, don’t fuck around,” one of his teammates said as they went to their coach. “He’s the Wolverines co-captain. Don’t get us on his bad side.”

I turned to Scottie, who was all smiles. “You’ve got good timing.”

“I hope we don’t face guys like that too often,” I said. “Four years since I came out, and I keep hoping that crap’s over. But it always has a way of creeping up.”

“Let’s do what we came here to do,” Scottie said, enthusiasm unwavering. He wasn’t going to let me fixate on that kid.

We went to the league director’s office, which was in the corner of the lobby. Scottie gave me an eye roll as he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came a male voice from behind the door.

“Hello,” Scottie said as he opened the door. This guy had a super small office with barely enough room for the desk, his chair, and another chair for a guest to sit in. There was a great view though, if he turned around. Behind him was a huge window looking out on one of the rinks. The Raiders were out there on half the ice with another team on the other end.

“Can I help you?” He looked up from the papers on his desk.

The nameplate on the front of his desk indicated he was Coach Ray Larson, director of youth programs.

“Yes. Hi, Coach Larson. I’m Scottie Polan. I’m here to register a team in the fifteen and older division.”

“Cutting that a little close, aren’t you, son?”

“Yes, sir. We had to make sure all the players were on board along with the coaches and sponsor.” Scottie turned over the forms and check. Scottie’s dad covered the fees, knowing he was getting money back from the community center, which was in for a partial sponsorship, along with the player’s fees.

Coach Larson scanned the forms and then looked behind Scottie to me.

“You’re one of the coaches?”

“Yes.” I stepped forward and offered a hand. “Simon Roberts.”

He gave me a quick handshake without standing up. “You and Alex Miller are both assistants on this team?”

I nodded. “Scottie approached us to coach since we’ve got past experience. We’ve brought in Hillary Moore as head coach to ensure there’s always an adult present.”

Coach Larson nodded and flipped past the top form and focused on the roster. “I don’t recognize…wait a minute, this is the team Walt Sinclair requested a transfer to. I haven’t granted that yet. He shouldn’t be on here.”

“He’s marked as provisional, pending the decision,” Scottie said. “We’ve got enough players even if he’s not approved, although per the regulations…”

The coach’s look said Scottie shouldn’t finish the sentence and I was glad he clued into that. This coach was not in the best mood. I wondered if this was his usual demeanor, or if it was just a bad day.

“I can’t remember when we’ve had someone transfer teams after roster placement,” Coach Larson said. “Don’t you think it’s bad sportsmanship to take someone from a team they’re committed to? If you’d had your team together at the same time everyone else did, you wouldn’t be looking for a transfer now.”

“Coach, I tried to get on a team. I was here for tryouts, and even though I did an outstanding job, I didn’t get a spot. I don’t go to a school with a hockey program, and I don’t want to sit out the season simply because a coach doesn’t want a gay player.”

Coach Larson looked like a brick had hit him.

“You’re that kid?” He put the papers down. “I’d heard rumors you might be doing something. I won’t have you coming in here to make a mockery of our program just to make a point. That goes for you and Miller, too,” Larson pointed at me. “I’ll take it up with Coach Rapp if you try to make any political statements here.”

“The only point I’m looking to make is that I’m a good goalie,” Scottie said matter-of-factly. “The entire team is here to play. As for Walt, he’s my friend and wants to play on this team. He put in his request to transfer as soon as he knew I was starting this team. We’ll abide by whatever decision you make.”

“Alex and I are only here to coach. If you need it, we can provide recommendations from our past coaching jobs, including working at Camp Stilson last summer. We do expect all the teams to practice good sportsmanship, as per league guidelines. I’ve already observed Scottie getting harassed by a member of the Raiders today and we won’t tolerate that behavior if we see it moving forward. I’d encourage you to call Coach Rapp if you have any concerns. He supports the team one hundred percent.”

Larson said nothing, but glared at me for a moment before returning his attention to the paperwork. He shuffled through the stack of forms, comparing each consent form to the roster. Scottie and I stood silently, watching.

“Everything looks in order. We’ll deposit the check today and once it clears you’ll be official. I see you’re team captain, so you and the coaches should see confirmation emails in the next few days. We’ll also let you know about Walt in that confirmation. The season starts in two weeks and the schedule comes out later this week.” He opened a drawer and pulled out envelopes and gave them to me. “The packets are for the coaches. The materials cover running a team in this league. Remember what I said. If I see or hear anything that makes it look like this team’s doing anything to cause issues in the league, I’ll suspend the team outright.”

“Understood,” I said. “I would ask that you extend the same warning to the other teams. We’re here to play hockey, not be harassed because we’re going to be perceived as the gay team. I trust you’ll take steps to make sure there are no issues on either side.”

Larson gave me a death stare. “We don’t discriminate here.”

“Thank you, sir.” Scottie extended a hand for him to shake. “I look forward to playing.”

He seemed surprised. It took him a moment, but he stood up and shook Scottie’s hand.

“Good to meet you, Coach Larson,” I said, and extended my hand again, which he met while standing this time. “If there’re any issues with the team, please don’t hesitate to reach out to Alex, Hillary and me.”

He nodded, but it was clear he wasn’t happy.

Once we were in the lobby with the office door closed, Scottie’s eyes went wide and I gave him a wide-eyed look back. That was a little crazier than I expected. I’m glad I came along as backup. His dad would’ve been good, too. I hoped I short-circuited a lot of trouble by saying that Coach Rapp was on board.

“That was weird,” Scottie said once we were outside.

“Little bit, yeah. You did great.” I clapped him on the back as we walked. “Just the right energy.”

“You think we’re going to have problems?”

“Maybe. Especially if we get Walt. But we’ll deal with it.”

“You gonna tell Coach Rapp how that went?” Scottie asked as we got to his dad’s car. His dad got out to meet us.

“Not unless he asks. I don’t want to make an issue where there isn’t one. It’s better for us if we make this work on our own.”

“Everything okay?” asked Mr. Polan.

“Mostly yes,” Scottie said. “A couple curveballs. The coach guy is not thrilled we’re playing. You’d be proud. I was all business, even though sometimes I didn’t want to be.”

“He was perfect,” I added.

Scottie’s dad smiled. “I knew you would be.”

“It’s no fun though,” Scottie said.

“Unfortunately, not everything is.” Mr. Polan said as I nodded agreement.

“Guys, I gotta get to work,” I said. “Scottie, good job today. Make sure everyone gets the email about the team meeting.”

“Will do,” he said. “Thanks, Simon.”

I waved as I headed for the truck. After that encounter with Coach Larson, I knew it was right that we took the coaching gig since it was clear this rink wasn’t the most gay friendly. The team was a good cause to support.

Before Wolverines practice was over I got my first look at the team Scottie had assembled. Several guys took up position behind the home bench. I didn’t stare, but I stole glances as I went through the final drills of the day. I recognized Scottie, TJ, and some others from the community center, but many I didn’t.

“It’s an interesting mix up there,” Alex said as we stood in line for another run down the ice. “Tall, short, some sitting up and paying attention, some slouched and reading phones.”

“Hillary just got here.” I gave her a quick wave. “Early as usual.”

After we finished up with Coach, Alex and I headed to the tunnel and both Scottie and Hillary stood above, waiting for us.

“Hey, guys,” I said. “Scottie, meet our friend Hillary, Hilary, meet Scottie. Everyone can stay seated where they are, we’ll get changed quick and come up.”

“Awesomeness,” said Scottie. “Come on, Hillary, we can get you a head start on the intros.”

Scottie led Hillary to the group. As he bounced up stairs two at a time, Hillary looked back at us with a grin. Apparently she enjoyed his energy.

We zipped through our clean up and were met by Danny and Trent in the hallway.

“Mind if we tag along?” Danny asked.

“Sure,” Alex said. “Although you realize if you’re with us now you’re likely in it for the long haul.”

“That’s cool,” Danny said as we began to make our way up through the interior of the arena so we could come out in the seating area. “From what you’ve told us, this is a good cause.”