Aftershock

After a lovely dinner with Drea’s family in Annapolis, we got home around 10pm. Flipping open my laptop, the first thing I did was log into Skype. It had been a while since I’d been able to talk to my family, so seeing that my parent’s account was online I quickly clicked to start a chat.

Mum had not long gotten home from work, going by the time difference – Sunday night in MD being Monday afternoon in NZ. Sure enough, when her face popped up on screen she was still in her work shirt. “I was hoping I’d catch you,” she exclaimed in lieu of greeting. “How’s everything over there?”

After a brief explanation of how I’d barely been ‘home’ the last few days, which lead to a little white lie of Mike being one of Drea’s friends (which was actually technically true) instead of some random we met at the zoo.

There wasn’t much gossip from home either. The aftershocks seemed to have died down a little, and to smaller magnitudes. That didn’t stop everyone from freaking out up in mum’s office though – even when they couldn’t tell if was a legitimate shake or just vibration from the forklift in the stockroom below. My sister and aunt were a few days into their European tour and didn’t have much to report either.

Once we’d seemingly caught up, I dropped my big news about being jobless once I returned home. I’d been hoping that dad would’ve been home by the time I got to that point, but he walked through the door as we were about to say goodbye.

Instead, we resumed conversation, once again going over my call from Jan and all that would ensue. I did however get some good news to end the call with a smile – our rugby boys had played well in their final pre-season game the day before, leading to a belief we’d have a good squad who should be fairly competitive.

As happy as it made me to hear that, it also saddened me. Rugby was the one thing I really missed… aside from the obvious of my family. I’d been keeping track of the Super 15’s inaugural season through the internet, and was happy to see our Crusaders were once again dominating, but club rugby was a lot more than just the game.

Saturdays were an event, from noon til late. The people made everything… even if we’d played a bad game, catching up with everyone at the clubrooms afterward, discussing tactics and history, having a drink or three… That was what made the sport.

Anyway, after letting dad recount the day we called it a night. They had other things to get on with, and Drea was probably in need of some sleep. It wasn’t a secret that she and Dan couldn’t keep their hands off each other when they had the chance. She was on afternoon shifts for the next few days, so we’d probably be up in time to do brunch before she left.

x

Aside from a few random text messages, I didn’t really hear anything from Mike until Tuesday afternoon. “Will you go to the game with me tonight?” he asked before I could even say hi.

Of course I was immediately sceptical. “Will I have to meet any of your friends?” Really, would it be possible for me to completely avoid his team? Because if so then it was a no brainer. If not, then it depended on other details.

“Um, maybe a couple? I promise I won’t take you into the locker room and make you shake everyone’s hands, or anything. But it’s kinda impossible to avoid everyone.”

“Ugh, that’s what I thought,” I sighed. “Who are you playing?” My curiosity, and slight boredom, would seem to favour Mike’s agenda.

I could almost sense Mike’s apprehension melting as he sensed I was close to caving. “Carolina.”
And I was done for. “I hate you.”

Of course Mike had to rub it in by chuckling at my half-hearted jeer. “Uh uh, you love me really. You just hate my team. But seriously, you’ll come?”

“Yea, yea, keep telling yourself that. And yes. I’ll deplore myself for it, but I will go. But I will be cheering for the Canes, consider yourself warned.”

A small sigh was almost inaudible from the other end of the line. “Fine, I suppose I can deal with that. Guess I shouldn’t bother with the Green jersey I was gunna give you either.”

“Ugh, why do you have to be so mean? I know you’re sitting there looking all mopey puppy-like and adorable and gah. You’re lucky you’re not here or I’d be punching you for such menacing tactics.” Really, why was he so damn sweet all the time? “You’re making it really hard for me to not break logic.”

It took a few seconds before he uttered his reply. “Um, sorry? I don’t even…”

“Yea, don’t worry. Just me being weird. Maybe I’ll explain it to ya sometime.”

Apparently that was enough for Mike. After finalising plans for the evening I was once again left to my own devices, which now entailed trying not to swoon over such sweetness, misguided though it may be.

x

The game wasn’t half as bad as I’d expected. Somehow, even he wasn’t entirely sure, Mike had managed to get us a box to ourselves. Usually as a scratch he’d be in the press box, but tonight was a ‘special occasion’ so he’d finagled a deal for our seclusion. Otherwise, he’d stressed, we’d be in the family suite and the wolves would’ve eaten me alive. I was all for retaining existence, especially after the last few months of trials and tribulations. Thankfully we'd made our way there without having to stop for introductions.

The first period had been full of end to end action, but neither team could convert possession into a goal. The second was a vast difference, starting with a hiss and a roar when the Canes took control on an early power play. Mike was bitching a little because his ‘best friend’ Nick had taken the tripping call, but sucked it up like a big boy, knowing there was still a lot of game left for his team to fight back.

And fight back they did, with two late goals to take the lead into the second intermission. That was ok though, because once again the Canes struck early after the break. Somehow Jeff Skinner managed to sneak one in from the goal line, and the scores were tied.

“Hell yea baby bro!!!” I cheered loudly, causing Mike to flinch a little from the volume in close proximity.
Once I’d settled down a little he questioned my exclamation with a quirked eyebrow, “Baby bro?”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little, with slight embarrassment as I explained. “He’s just so cute and adorable and I just wanna hug him. My friend Lis, in Germany, and I both love him to bits, so we figured it’d be fun to ‘adopt’ him as a brother. Don’t look at me like that!” I shoved his shoulder a little at the amused apprehension. “We’re not crazy. And it’s all in fun. Not like I’d ever actually tell him or anything.”

“Uh huh. Anyone else I should worry about you leaving me for?”

It was said as a joke, but I couldn’t process an answer. I could only blush a little more and turn my attention back to the action.

That wasn’t the only nickname I had to explain. ‘CK’ for Nicklas Backstom, which was how Lis and I had initially remembered the difference between the Caps player and the Wild’s goalie Niklas Backstrom. And then there was ‘The Eric brother’ as the eldest Staal. That one was a bit more complicated.

A few years earlier there had been identical twins in the NZ Cricket team. Hamish had been in the team for a few seasons, but with James also making the BlackCaps it made for some interesting moments. We’d taken to guessing which brother was which, usually by deeming one ‘the Hamish brother’ because we’d forget James’ name. So in that vein, the Staal brothers received similar treatment. Being a Penguins fan, Jordan was already known as ‘Gronk’ and was therefore exempt, but the other three were not so lucky.

Soon enough it was the end of regulation and the teams were still stuck at 2-2. Overtime proved fruitless, so it was down to a shootout. Mike had faith in his team, but when Skinner scored off the first shot and Ovi’s attempt was stopped by Ward, I was fairly confident ‘my’ team would come away with the extra point. The next two shooters both missed, but Tuomo Ruutu sealed the victory for the visitors.

“Sorry, but not really,” I offered in consolation, along with a hug.

Squeezing back, Mike took an extra few seconds before he released his hold. “Anytime.”