Here I Am

I was eager to return home after my two game loss to get back out on the ice and practice some more. I obviously needed it after those losses.

“Hey,” a familiar voice echoed throughout the United Center as I was stretching by one of the nets. I had gotten there earlier than usual, just to get in some reflection time. “Tazer said you’d be here.”

She stood on the player bench and I was reminded of the time she stood on a park bench in Millennium Park pretending to be a statue. “Hey,” I said, continued to stretch.

“Why are you here so early? Krugs says practice doesn’t officially start for another hour.”

I managed to smile. “Seems like Riles isn’t the only one making new friends there Ms. Delia.”

She laughed. “I’ve officially made three new amazing friends, including you Corey Crawford. Marcus Kruger and Johnny Toews made the cut too.”

“So why are you here?” I asked, placing my mask on, trying to get in the zone and figure out what went wrong for those last goals.

“Well, if I do recall correctly, we were supposed to meet for a quick lunch before you had to practice today.”

I froze and swore to myself. “Delia I am so sorry. I totally and completely forgot about lunch. I am really sorry.” Crap. I felt like a jerk. A big, fat, losing jerk.

“Nah, it’s all right. I called up my good friends Tazer and Krugs and they say you’ve been going through a rough patch and that you were probably here trying to work it off.”

“Where’s Riley?” I asked.

“Field trip to the Museum of Science and Industry with his science tutor. I am not a fan of the science world so I made plans with you.”

“And I failed you on those plans,” I grumbled.

“Maybe lunch plans, but we’ve still got another hour before the others start to pile on the ice.”

“Okay. . . .” I said, not seeing where she was going with it.

“Who’s the shortest on the team?” she asked, jumping down off of the bench and examining the sticks.

“Kaner, why?” I asked.

She grabbed Kaner’s stick and came out onto the ice and for a few seconds I was worried that she might slip and fall.

But she walked onto the ice like she was an old pro, stick and a bag of pucks in hand. “Ready to defend your net Corey Crawford?”

“I thought you didn’t play hockey Delia,” I said, taking a drink of water from my water bottle.

“I haven’t played since I was seven. Then my mom made me stop playing and ceased everything that even was related to hockey. I used to have an imaginary friend who played hockey with me when I was super little.”

“Really?” I was intrigued. “What was he, an elephant? A penguin?”

She laughed as she dropped the first puck. “He was a boy. A little blonde boy who wanted to be a center when he grew up.”

“Wow,” I said. “He sounds better than my imaginary friend. When did you grow out of him?”

“Hm, I think it was when we moved from Canada to here in Chicago when I was six. Mom let me play for a few more months, but then it was nothing.”

“That sucks. You liked hockey, I take it?”

A wistful smile crossed her lips. “It was funny. Mom wrote me a note after she passed. All it said was that she was sorry that she took the love of my life away from me, but it had to be done. She said I loved it more than life itself even and it crushed her to see me cry when she said I couldn’t play anymore, or even watch games.”

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“Yup. So when I met you, I thought my love for the sport had already been crushed out of me, but as we all know, that was a lie. I still love hockey more than life itself.”

“What did you play?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she smirked.

“All right. I guess we’ll find out. Don’t hold back Delia.”

“It’s not like I can shoot like Sharp or anything,” she grumbled, before shooting one my way. “I was seven.”

It was an easy catch for me, but she didn’t waste time, waiting for me to drop the puck. She shot three more pucks quickly and I managed to stop all of them. We kept going on like that for at least another thirty minutes.

“Not bad there,” I called out. “Still can’t tell which position you played though.”

“Really Crow?” Tazer stepped out onto the ice, Kruger and Kaner right behind him, dressed in practice gear. “You can’t recognize another goaltender when you see one?”

“Really?” Krugs, Kaner, and I said in unison.

“He’s a cheater,” Delia told me. “He’s been researching me. I saw your search history on your phone Tazer.”

“What?!”

“0190 is only a tad bit more creative than Corey’s pass codes you know. And plus it’s been like twenty years since I’ve played. I’m rusty.”

“It’s like riding a bike. You never forget,” Krugs said.

“Has it been an hour already?” she asked, handing over the stick back to its owner.

“Yup. Now get your butt off the ice. We men, have to practice,” Kaner winked and she slapped his shoulder.

Instead of going off the ice, she walked over to me. “Everyone goes through a rough spot Corey. Don’t let this get you down,” she said to me and made her way off the ice, Marcus more or less pushing her.

“Can you bring Riley tomorrow?” Scott asked, as he warmed up.

“Yeah!” Carcillo and Hossa shouted. “Bring the kid!”

She laughed. “I’ll see what our schedule is like tomorrow, but it’s likely we might show up. Bye boys. Good luck tonight against those nasty Canucks!”

“Feeling better about yourself?” Tazer skated around me.

“Because I could stop a girl’s shot who hasn’t played in twenty years? Yes Tazer, I feel absolutely amazing about myself.”

“Good you should. Delia came back and shot pucks at your sorry ass for an hour. I would feel pretty damn amazing if I were you.”

And as practice went on and I saved pucks that the guys shot at me, I did feel pretty damn amazing. All thanks to one girl.