The Crosby Life

I got an invite to the All-star weekend in Raleigh.
No, I will not be participating in the events, but I will be heading the events in the skills competition. I’ll also be there as the fiance support for Marc-Andre.
I’m going to have so much fun.
The games leading up to the break were pretty ok for me. Jordan had the whole team on his shoulders with Sidney out, and Geno being out too. I helped him out, and kept his spirits high, by taking on some of the interviews myself, even though I despise doing interviews. I never was good at public speaking.
The plane ride to Raleigh was short and sweet, and filled with a lot of French chitter chatter by Marc and Tanger.
It was pretty damn funny.
Friday night, the night of the draft, I stood side by side with my fiance in a beautiful white cocktail dress with a black sash and gorgeous heels with black ribbon. My hair was loose in it’s usual dark curls, my makeup light. I looked pretty damn good, and many people commented saying I looked better than all the men there.
But that was the point.
“Miss. Crosby, what do you think of your teammate’s prank?”
I laughed and stared at Marc just as he finished his poor imitation of Tanger by saying that Kris was afraid to go up against him. Marc is wearing Tanger’s name tag. “Well, I think he is a complete goofball and I won’t be surprised if something is missing from his head when he wakes up tomorrow morning,” I replied.
The reporter laughed along with me as Marc just grinned. “He wouldn’t try anything,” my fiance said. “Because he knows that I’ll just come back with a vengeance.”
Needless to say, everyone around us was in hysterics.
I had to break away from Marc and join the other family members as he went to go sit down in the crowd, but not without saying hello to some of the guys I know and I’m friends with.
I sat with Tanya, Eric Staal’s wife, and we had a competition on which team would take who. Tanya won.
After the draft, we went back to the hotel. Teammates were able to room with each other, expect for the guys who were the only ones from their teams. Then they roomed with each other.
So, Marc, Tanger and I were stuck in the same room together. And being that they were picked on opposite teams, I didn’t get too much sleep. I actually ended up kicking Marc-Andre out of bed. He slept on the floor the rest of the night.
The skills competition was the best. I got to help set it up, and I had maybe a little but too much fun. During the commercial breaks, some of the guys got me to do two of the competitions; the accuracy shooting and the hardest shot. I used Danny Briere’s stick, since he is one of the shortest guys, and got the four targets on five shots, and I scored a 93.6 on the hardest shot.
Apparently a lot of these hooligans were taking bets on me, saying that I wouldn’t make it to 80 miles per hour, or 90 miles per hour.
I sure showed them. That’s what they get for doubting me.
It was just so much fun to be around all these guys at once. Phil Kessel treated me to a dinner that night, saying he owed me for something I didn’t even remember from the last game against the Leafs.
I slept a lot better on Saturday night, however, Kris didn’t.
As I was cuddled up against Marc, just slightly awake at five o’clock in the morning, and I could hear Tanger’s low grumble which woke me up even more.
“It’s five in the fucking morning,” he growled. “Couldn’t you have called her later?”
Kris paused and I opened my eyes to the darkness. The sun was no where near coming up yet. “She’s asleep, good God. Take the thing to the vet.”
I rolled over, away from Marc’s warm side, and pushed myself onto my elbows. “What’s going on?” I mumbled drowsily to Tanger.
A light flickered on and I squinted at the sudden brightness. I ended up covering my eyes too. “It’s your annoying ass brother,” Tanger grumbled, throwing me his cell phone.
“What?” I yawned into the phone.
“Something’s wrong with your cat,” my brother’s nervous voice replied on the other line.
“What’s going on?” I asked, a little bit alarmed.
“Riley was pacing, being all weird and he wouldn’t leave the upstairs and kept going into your guest room.” Jenna’s mom is sick and she flew up to Nova Scotia to visit her, so Sidney is staying at mine and Marc’s place until we get back. “I couldn’t sleep with his whimpering so I looked around, and Aislinn was just lying under the bed, her breath short and raspy. I got her out and I have her in my lap.”
I bit my lip, my heart racing. “Take her to the vet,” I replied, my voice shaking a bit.
Marc shifted next to me, but he let out a gentle snore.
“Ok,” Sidney said. “I’ll do all I can, ok Erra?”
I blinked away tears, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. “Ok,” I said monotone. “Keep me updated?”
“Of course. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I sniffed, throwing the phone back at Tanger.
The tall Frenchman got out of his bed and I sat up in bed, wiping my eyes. He wrapped his arms around me and sat next to me, still not waking Marc-Andre up. “I hope she’ll be ok, Erra,” he mumbled in French as I hugged him back.
“Thanks, Tanger,” I croaked out. “But she’s an old girl and...” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
He ruffled my already bed head and gave me a small smile. “You never know.”
I nodded and he got up and headed back to his own bed. I crawled under the covers and curled up close into Marc, focusing on his heartbeat to help calm me down.
And ultimately put me back to sleep.

I woke up a few hours later on the day of the All-star game with a text from Sidney. I held my breath as I read it, and burst into tears as it read that Aislinn was ok for now. Sid got her to the vet and they gave her drugs to help her feel better.
Marc wrapped his arms around my, confused on why I was crying. Tanger told him what happened the night before as I just hugged the man I loved. For now, I still have a cat.
After I calmed myself down, I went to get dressed for the game. I just threw on some jeans and a sweatshirt to go under my coat that I’ll take off once we’re at the rink.
We walked down to the banquet hall where breakfast awaited all the players and the families that they decided to bring.
I rummaged through the food before deciding on what I wanted to eat. Marc picked the pancakes and I decided to go with my usual french toast along with a bowl of mixed fruit and a glass of juice.
I sat next to Marc, and he kissed my hand softly. “You sure you’re ok?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, gaining a look from Shea Weber who sat across from me. “Oui.” I gave him a small smile.
He kissed my cheek and took my hand in his as we ate.
I chatted a bit with some of the guys before we all went our separate ways before the game later today.
Marc and I stuck together the whole time and pretty much just wandered Raleigh. I’ve never really taken the time to just look around, so it was pretty cool to get out there and see all there is to see.
For the game, I took my seat up in the stands like a normal fan with my Team Lidstrom jersey. I received plenty of looks from the people around me considering they’re all ‘Canes fans, but it was all in good fun.
The game went on and I had a blast watching. I was texting different teammates, but mainly Emelie who decided to stay in Pittsburgh. Max went down south for the break, so I figured that’s the reason she stayed.
I wish they’d work everything out soon.
The game came and went, and I lost my voice by the end of it. This will be me starting next year. I won’t be a player, just another fan.
Well, not true. I’ll still be on the bench as the TA and as being apart of the medical staff, but only for the Penguins’ home games.
Now, the All-star weekend is over. Marc-Andre, Tanger and I sat on the plane up to Pittsburgh. There is practice tomorrow and we have to be home. Plus, I want to be home with my cat. If she’s on her last legs, I want to be there with her.
Marc passed out next to me and I just read a book, trying to keep my mind off of things. Tanger snored on the other side, and I elbowed him in his side.
“Ow, what?” he asked, startling awake.
“You were snoring,” I commented lightly, not taking my eyes from the book.
He grunted. “Like the Flower doesn’t snore.”
“He actually doesn’t that much.” I shrugged. “Just light ones. You, on the other, SNORE.”
The French hockey player just stared at me for a long moment before closing his eyes and fixing his hat over his head so it covered his eyes.
I love my boys.