Let Me Be Your Wings

I walked around the giant hallway of the United Center looking for my mother’s friend Howard Steinbeck. My hands held onto the strap of my camera bag and I felt the small hand of nerves tugging at my stomach. Maybe I was early? or worse, maybe I was late? But sure enough, in front of the Blackhawks Store I found the smiling face of my sudo-uncle.

“Howard!” I picked up my pace.

“Kaycie!” He held out his arms and I entered gladly into them, hugging him. “How is my favorite niece?”

Pulling away I answered, “Never better! Thank you so much for all of this.”

“Anything to make sure you’re taken care of.”

I smiled at him and gave him another hug. Howard worked as one of the assistant managers of the Chicago Blackhawks and he was currently looking for a main photographer to snap shots of the games, behind the scenes moments, events, etc. I mentioned that I was working as the sports photographer for my college paper, but needed a job once I graduated. He looked up my work, consulted with his team, and the next thing I knew I was being offered a job to work with the Blackhawks! I was still pinching myself.

“Ready to get started,” Howard asked, “The boys are practicing on home ice.”

I took a deep breath and nodded, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You nervous?”

“Oh my god, yes.” I gave a nervous laugh.

Wrapping his arm around me, Howard gave me a hug, “You’ll do fine.”

He kept his arm around my shoulders as he lead me through the nearest gate revealing the marvelous sight of that was the arena of the United Center. There was a small crowd of people who had paid for the practice tickets, they were scattered about the first level here and there, watching the players run drills on the ice. My senses were on high as they were overwhelmed with the power of the space, the smell of the ice, the sound of pucks hitting the side boards, the scraping of skates on the smooth surface of the ice. We walked around the ring making our way down to the player benches. Once there, Howard tapped on the window alerting one of the equipment staff of his presence. The staff helped him raise the glass panel, allowing Howard and myself to climb in.

“Want to meet the players?” Howard smiled as he gave me a wink.

“We don’t have to stop practice,” I said, “I can just take pictures from here, or the other bench, and-”

“Nonsense!” Howard banged on the side of the door earning the attention of the coaches, “Can I stop you fellas for one second?”

A whistle sounded through the arena and the sound of several skates stopping at once came. Howard opened the door of the bench and stepped out onto the ice. I followed suit, trying my best not to seem timid or scared. I walked behind him, being on the ice was second nature to me. We stopped by two men who shook Howard’s hand.

“Joel, I want to introduce the new photographer for the Chicago Blackhawks, Kaycie Cullen.”

Stepping forward, I held out my hand, “Hello. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

Joel Quenville smiled, “Nice to meet you, Kaycie. Congratulations on your new position.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Shall we introduce her to the boys?” Howard asked.

“Sure.” Joel smiled and brought his whistle to his lips. Blowing through it, he yelled, “Fall in, boys.”

In seconds, the entire Chicago Blackhawk team was standing or kneeling in front of us. My eyes jumped from face to face, my heart hammering in my chest. Howard stepped forward, “Morning, boys,” he got a jumble of greetings in response. “Sorry to interrupt your practicing, I just wanted to quickly introduce you to the newest member of the Blackhawk family. Now, you’ve heard me talk about her countless times, so her name should ring some bells. Please allow me to introduce you to, Kaycie Cullen.”

I gave everyone a small wave, “Hello.”

Wrapping his arm around my shoulder again, Howard gave me a small shake, “Don’t let her fool you boys… she might be shy now, but she’s got some bite in her.”

The players chuckled and all gave me smiles. My eyes bounced from face to face recognizing some and others by their number. An awkward silence filled the air, and I played with the zipper of my bag. Finally feeling like enough time had passed, I cleared my throat and said, “It’s an incredible honor to meet you guys. I look forward to working with you and to not missing a game ever again.” That comment got a few laughs from everyone, “We’ll let you get back to your drills. Thank you for stopping for us.”

Howard waved goodbye to the boys and lead me over to the player bench. “Do you want to watch them?”

I nodded, “If that would be okay.”

“Of course!”

Howard and I took a seat at the end of the player bench, trying to keep out of the way of the equipment managers who were readying the area for the opening game that night against the St Louis Blues. We watched as the Hawks practiced passing, stopping, skating skills, and even small scrimmages. We also took the time to get caught up a bit. Howard was one of the best friends of my mother, and was always around when I was younger, which is why I call him my uncle. He was there for all of my school plays, all of my hockey games, and all of my school honors. He was more of a father figure in my life than my actual father, who was living in Arizona with his new wife and her children.

When practice was finished, Howard took me back down the tunnel and gave me the grand tour of the United Center from the bottom up, finishing in the press boxes, where I was given my new official ID badge. Smiling, I put the badge around my neck and sat in Howard’s office while I filled out my new hire paperwork. Once everything was in order, I was granted a company computer with the latest Photoshop program on it and a huge storage space that I was to use to edit and store the photos I took. I was to use my photos to create all sorts of media for the franchise, computer wallpapers, advertisement pictures, banner pictures, thumbnails for twitter, etc. I signed for the computer and added the sleek new bag to my person. When all of the official stuff was over, Howard invited me out for a quick bite to eat before the game started. We had to be back in the building two hours before game time to make sure we were both ready to go.

~

The Hawks were down by two points going into the third period. Huet was in the net, doing his best to defend the goal. The Blues were running the defensive line ragged and tiring out the offensive line by dragging them up and down the rink. I sat off to the side of the Blue’s net, hoping to get shots of that first goal, and even the tying goal if it were to ever come.

But it didn’t.

St Louis scored one final time and took the game three to nothing. I ran along the boards of the arena and was lead down into the tunnels of the United Center where I took a few shots of the boys walking away, hoping it was okay to take some pictures of defeat. Howard met me down by the player’s locker room and he gave me a sad smile, “Not the outcome we wanted, eh?”

I frowned, “No, I should say not.”

“Get any good material?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Excellent.” Howard smiled, “We’ll give them a few minutes to let Joel talk to them, and then you can go in with the press and snap some shots if you find anything good.”

I nodded, “Can do.”

“I’ll be in there too, so if you get tired after doing a few rounds, just come and hang with me.”

I gave him a smile, and we were allowed into the room. Instantly, reporters were going down the line starting with the captain, Jonathan Towes asking him about how he felt about the outcome and about how he felt be played during the game. I started at the other end of the room, snapping pictures of the boys sitting in their cubbies. Patrick Sharp caught me trying to take a candid shot of him, and he gave me a smile. Coming over, he held out his hand.

“Patrick.”

Shaking it, I replied, “Kaycie.”

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“I did, despite the outcome.”

He chuckled at my joke, “Yeah…. Not really the start we wanted.”

“Well, it can only go up from here.” I smiled.

“Hjalmarsson is hosting sort of a party to kick off the new season, though now it’s sort of a bummer party…. You’re welcome to come if you want.”

“That would be great, thank you! It would be a great way to get to know the team.”

Patrick smiled, “Yeah, it would… exactly what I was thinking.”

“Well, it looks like the reporters are ready for you… shouldn’t keep them waiting too long.”

Patrick looked behind him and sighed, “Yeah… suppose you’re right.”

I walked away from him and moved to Jonathan Towes. “Do you mind if I snap a candid shot?”

Jonathan smiled, “I guess not. What should I do?”

Check your skate.”

Snapping a shot, I thanked him, and went to Howard.

“Not in the mood?” He asked.

“Not really,” I replied, “It’s kind of a bummer… no one is really in the mood.”

“Speaking of, Hjalmarsson is having a small party at his place.”

“Yeah, um, Patrick Sharp told me about it.”

“Will you go?”

I shrugged, “Am I allowed to go?”

“Of course!” Howard gave me a smile, “Go and get to know these boys. Just don’t get into trouble.”

I smiled, “What? Me? Trouble?”

“Right. Who am I talking to?”

Howard dismissed me for the night, allowing me to run home and change before I drove to Hjalmarsson’s town house, Howard texted me the address while I was getting dressed. Grabbing my keys, I locked up my modest apartment, and left for the party. Parking on the street, I walked a few blocks to the house and rang the doorbell.

Niklas Hjalmarsson opened the door and smiled, “You’re the new girl, yeah?”

I smiled, “Kaycie, nice to meet you.”

“Come in, please!”

Stepping inside, I followed him further into his home, and found a living room with a Rock Band set up. In a neighboring room, some of the players were sitting on couches watching later hockey games and drinking beer. Upstairs, the sound of even more players doing something came through the floor.

“You came!”

Looking in front of me, I saw Patrick Sharp on the other side of the living room. Smiling I walked over to him, “Yeah! I thought it would be a good idea.”

“Well, let’s get you partying like a Hawk.” He placed his hand on my lower back and led me into the kitchens, “Do you drink beer?”

“Yes, I do.”

“We’ve got domestic and imported beer.”

“I’ll just take a stout if you have it.”

Patrick laughed, “Not afraid of the dark, are you?”

“No.”

Pulling out a Guinness, he opened the bottle, and handed it to me. Taking a deep sip, I smiled, “Thank you.”

“Do you play Rock Band?”

Looking over my shoulder into the living room, I saw Brian Bickell, Anti Niemi, Brent Sopel, and Brent Seabrook playing the instruments. “I haven’t played in a long time.”

“Well, Burish, Hjalmarsson, Eager, and I need one more person. Do you sing?”

I nodded, “I can.”

“Would you like to be our singer?”

“As long as it’s a song I know.” I laughed.

“Deal,” giving me a smile, he led me back into the living room, “Come meet the rest of our group.”

Adam Burish, Niklas, and Ben Eager were standing off to the side watching the first group struggle through a Weezer song. Patrick introduced me to the group. Adam shook my hand and said, “My best side is my left and I demand about twenty pictures per game.”

I laughed, “Well, play right, and I’ll be able to do just that.”

Eager laughed, “Damn, Burish. She shut you down!”

“Did you get any good shots of this game?” Niklas asked.

“A few,” I nodded, “I have a beautiful shot of Sopel punching a Blues player in the face.”

The sound of his name drew Brent’s attention away from the game, and he messed up. Sharp, Eager, Burish, Hjalmarsson, and I laughed at the error, and then the song was over. Stepping forward, I set my drink down on a coaster, and took up the microphone. The boys took their spots, Burish playing the drums, Sharp playing a bass, with Eager and Hjalmarsson were on main and rhythm guitar.

“Alright, Kaycie,” said Patrick, “Pick your song.”

“Wanna do, the Paramore song?” I asked, spotting That’s What You Get on the song listing.

“Done.” Patrick smiled and selected the song. When the song was over, we had the higher score, which caused for a celebratory drink. Clinking out glassed together, we cheered ourselves, and allowed another group of players to take over.