Breaking the Rules, NHL Style

“This just isn’t possible.”

“She was drafted Mr. Jackson. What is impossible about that?” I heard my lawyer, Larry Carter, yell into the phone, which was on speaker. “She tried out didn’t she?” Larry said, his voice rather high.

“W-well yes.”

“Exactly, she was number three in the draft, she’s going to make a team, there's no written rules that say she’s not aloud to play.”

“Well, no bu-”

“But what Mr. Jackson? There is now written rule, so in other words, there is no rule. She was drafted at number three, she needs a team.”

“All right, All right.”

A feeling of relief washed over me.

“We will contact you later in the week.”

With that there was a beep and the conversation was over.

“Tristan, we did it,” Larry sighed weakly. I was still stunned, sitting in the guest chairs in front of Larry’s desk. My lawyer sat down, staring at the wall, as I looked out the window.

Wow, we did it. I’m in the NHL. The first female in the NHL. I thought. And then it hit me, like a bus hitting a car, it hit me hard.

“I’M IN THE NHL!” I screamed getting up. “Papa!” I cried running out to Larry’s waiting room.

“What happened?” my dad asked getting up quickly.

“I’m in the NHL!” I repeated, jumping into his arms.

“You’re - my little girl’s in the NHL!” he screamed as well, Larry’s secretary rolled her eyes at us. Larry came out of his office, carrying his coat and brief case.

“You did it Larry!”

“Joe, we did it!” my dad’s best friend yelled back. They gave each other a hug and then looked at me. “You would have been number one if you weren't a girl. Really you were amazing during drafting, kicked all those boys butts,” Larry complemented, giving me a tight squeeze.

“Let’s go to dinner, time to celebrate!” my dad whisked Larry and I into his new Range Rover and hurtled us over to a fancy restaurant.

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“What Papa?” I asked, I couldn’t hear him from upstairs as I was getting ready.

I was wearing a fancy black dress since I was going to a conference with the board members of the NHL, this meeting would decide what NHL team I would be on.

“Tristan!” my dad yelled from downstairs.

“Coming.”

I slipped on my flats and grabbed my newest Coach purse, well the only one I owned. I was showered with gifts after news of me making the NHL made it to my friends and family. It was kinda of scary getting so many gifts.

“Tristan a boy is here to see you.”

“Really?” I walked to the door, and looking back at me was Ryan Lee. This boy was stunning, he was in my graduating class.

“Hey Tristan, I heard you made the NHL. I wanted to bring you flower. Congratulations.”

“Woah, thanks so much Ryan!” I said, taking the beautiful flowers.

“You look pretty, where are you going?”

“I’m leaving pretty soon to go to an NHL meeting in Toronto, I have to be there at three.”

“All right, have fun,” he smiled at me. “Hey call me later, maybe we can hook up for dinner tomorrow.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Bye.” Ryan gave me a hug and then was on his way.

“Woah.” I said to myself looking at the flowers. “Kallie!” I cried. Kallie was my best friend, she was eating breakfast in my living room, talking to my dad.

“C’mon, we gotta go!”

“Oh my god! Ryan bought you flowers!” she ranted, looking at them.

“Yeah, I know. But we gotta go!” I said trying to get her to move.

“I’ll take care of the flowers,” my dad took them off my hands before adding, “Good luck Tristan.”

“Bye Papa, I will call you after the meeting.”

“Bye Tristan, bye Kallie.”

We walked into the garage and got into the car.

“So how long does it take to get to Toronto?” Kallie asked as she started up my car since she had wanted to drive.

“From here it’s an hour and forty minutes, but I’m sure it will be longer than that. I’m not sure of the traffic and how long it will take to get over the border.” I responded.

We pulled out of my driveway in Buffalo, New York. I had moved here in eighth grade because of my dad. Last month, I had graduated high school and would have been going to college, but plans have changed since I made it into NHL. I was still in shock from drafting, even getting picked to go. I was going to be the first women in the NHL.

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“Bye, I will call you when the meeting is over. What are you going to do?” I asked Kallie when she pulled up the curb.

“Go shopping, get some lunch, explore. I won’t be to far away.”

“Okay, wish me luck!”

“Luck!” Kallie gave me a hug and I got out of the car. Nervous for the first time since drafting, I shut the door, straightening out my dress.

What if I didn’t get a team that I wanted? But then again what team did I want? I new for sure I wanted Detroit Red Wings, or maybe the New York Rangers. Whatever team I got picked for, I was fine with, except one.

I walked into the building. Oh hockey gods, please anything but Pittsburgh! I thought, quickly praying to the hockey gods. I mean seriously, these guys were pretty powerful.

“You must be Ms. Davis?” a man asked me once I walked in.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, smiling at the man in a suite.

“Mr. Miller,” he reached out a hand and I shook it.

“Nice to met you.”

“This way please Ms. Davis.”

“Okay.”

I followed Mr. Miller. Did they always have meetings to tell you what team you made in the NHL? I had missed the NHL draft because I was really sick, so I didn't know what team I had made.

We walked into a conference room. I saw about fifteen or so men, and then Larry, my lawyer. I smiled at him and sat down next to him. Did I really need a lawyer for this?

“This is Tristan Davis,” Miller introduced to the group of men.

“Hi,” I waved politely at them.

“First things first, we need to tell you what team you got.” I shivered. I’m ready, I got this.

“It was a battle, and a big one, but the team that got you was the Pittsburgh Penguins.”

What! NO!I shouted in my head. Keep cool Tristan, your in the NHL, the NHL! I told myself.

“Awesome.” I said trying to show some enthusiasm.

“I am Ray Shero, the Pittsburgh's general manager,” a man that sat across stood up and shook my hand.

“Next thing we need to talk about is money and a contract. We are willing to pay you three million a year, if you are willing to sign a three year contract.” he told me. I was shocked. Three million, was he crazy?

“Are you crazy?” I heard Larry ask. I shook my head, agreeing with Larry. Yeah was he, three million for a not yet eighteen year old? Was the NHL just giving money away?

“That is definitely not enough for a girl with such talent as Miss Davis. We want at least 3.5 or 4,” Larry said standing up.

“3.5?” I gasped. Was Larry serious?

And with that the debate started. What seemed like years the debate was over and 3.8 million a year was the settlement.

“Isn’t that a little much?” I whispered to Larry.

“Shh,” he commanded, giving me a look that was often used by my dad.

“All right if you would please sign this,” Mr. Shero handed me a contract. I read the whole thing and then signed, well not before Larry read it too.

“Good, we’ve got a deal. Now to talk about the game.”

“Okay.”

“You play centre?”

I gave a quick nod.

“I’m Mario Lemieux.” the man said, and this time I reached out and took his head. Mario Lemieux! I thought happily, he was the only Penguins player that I had liked.

“I am the Penguins chairman.”

We both sat down and I shook my head in understanding.

“I was wondering, you took hits in drafting right?” he asked.

“Yeah, we had scrimmages with hitting.”

“And you’re rather good at it?”

“Yes sir, I like to hit.”

“Well you are the shortest player in the NHL. Although, I’ve seen tapes of you and you seem to play a lot bigger than you are. Can you tell me your height and weight?”

“I’m 5’4, and 152.” they all gasped.

So what if I was the littlest player in the NHL? I could take a hit, I could skate fast, I had hands and a shot, what are they complaining about?

“Well that is small. But you’re an all around player.” Mario was writing down notes. “So you are going to play centre?”

“Or right wing, wherever you need me. Hell, I could play goalie!” they all laughed.

“Good, I like that enthusiasm.”

“Thanks.”

“All right, I have my answers if I have anymore questions I will call you. But right now to get you sized.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For a lot of things, like your jersey, you will be following Mr. Shero and Mr. Miller to the Penguins room right next door.” I shook everyone’s hands, thanking them, before following Mr. Miller and Mr. Shero to a room down the hall. I stepped in and saw it was full of Penguins things.

“Wow.”

“Yes, this is the Penguins storage room. Mr. Barry?” Mr. Miller called into the room.

“Yes, hello, I am Mr. Barry, I’ve got the things that we will need to fit you for today.” “Hi, I’m Tristan Davis.” I said, once again shaking a man’s hand.

“So lets go to the back.” Mr. Barry brought me to the back, making me try on the jerseys. “Okay, so we’ve got your size, now the number you want?” Barry asked.

“Err. 10’s taken by Robert's right?”

“That is correct.”

“Hmm, 14?”

“That’s great.” I nodded my head.

“Now for socks.”

I had gotten anything and everything you need to become a NHL player. I was getting some new gear, but not until I had a meeting with Easton next week. Larry said they wanted to sign me, as one of their players. I got sweatshirts, shirts, sweat pants, shorts, work out clothes, baseball hats, and snow hats, all Penguins uniform.

Finally close to two hours later I walked out of that room holding three bags of clothes that I was probably never going to wear.

Mr. Shero came around the corner, walking with a man in his late twenty’s.

“Tristan,” he nodded.

“Hi.”

“This is Alex Burke, he is going to be your coordinator.”

“Oh, hi, nice to meet you,” I said, reaching out my hand and shook his.

“This is your new phone, my number is already plugged into it,” he wasted no time getting into things as he handing me a iPhone.

A new phone? Do you really need this much stuff in the NHL?

“It is still your old number, I will plug your old contacts in the phone, and the people you will be needing on the way to the hotel.”

“Woah, sweet! Thanks. Wait, hotel?”

“Correct. Now onward, we are going to be pretty busy the next couple of weeks,” he started rushing down the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, first to your hotel, for you to change, then we are going to a press conference, and then to a meeting with scheduling.”

“No one told me about that! My friend’s with me.”

“Your friend can come along.”

“Okay?” I started dialing the numbers of Kallie’s phone.

“Kallie, met me back here.”

“Okay, I’m already here.”

I hung up going into the parking lot. I was already stressed, and the season hadn’t even started. So many things to do. This was going to be one busy season, and on my least favorite team in the world. Penguins. Joy.