Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me

It took me about twenty minutes – and a few wrong turns – to finally make my way to the CONSOL center. I ended up in a no-turning lane and then on the way back realized that there was a one-way street… that kind of thing. But I got there, and grabbed my gym bag before making my way inside. I changed, and was on the treadmill in record time; my iPod on and the music almost pounding in my head as I lost myself in the beat of the music and my breathing.
All of a sudden something touched my shoulder, scaring the shit out of me.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” I hollered, jumping straight up; thankfully I’d put the emergency cord for the machine on, so the treadmill screeched to a stop and I hardly stumbled when my feet touched the ground again.
“Easy there man! It’s just me!” Neal laughed, obviously finding the humor in my almost near-death accident.
“Shit you scared me,” I admitted, and he shrugged apologetically.
“I did try talking to you, but you crank up those headphones pretty damn loud,”
“Sorry; bad habit. I’m used to working out in my parents basement or a billet’s basement and I don’t want to bother them with my music,” I explained, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Just plug it in to the stereo or something; I’m sure your taste in music can’t be too terrible,” he teased, and I laughed, walking over, finding the auxiliary cord and doing so.
“I dunno, I think I have pretty okay taste in music,” I shrugged, and when I put on Papa Roach he grinned.
“I think I may have to agree with you,” I laughed again, before turning up the volume a little more and getting back on the treadmill. We ran in companionable silence for about twenty-five minutes, when I decided I’d been running long enough; a half hour was a pretty decent run by my standards.
“I think I’ll go another five minutes; get the full half-hour in,” Neal barked out between breaths, and I nodded.
“That’s what I did,” I agreed, and started stretching out. By the time Neal was off the treadmill and stretching I was just sitting on the floor wondering what I should do next.
“Wanna work on abs together? It’s this weird thing my little sister showed me, but it really does the trick,” he said, and I nodded.
“Sure, sounds good to me,”
He walked over and grabbed a thirty-pound weighted ball, and walked back over.
“So we sit like we’re gonna do crunches, but with our feet together. We do the crunches at the same time, and each time we switch who has the ball, like this,” he said, half-assed demonstrating.
“All right, I think I can handle that,” I nodded, and we did nearly fifteen reps of ten; needless to say we were both feeling the burn.
“Good stretch,” I said, stretching my arms above my head and feeling my back give a few comfortable pops.
“There’s one more, if you do those V-sits,” he said, and I nodded.
This one was one person holding the V-sit while the other held the ball and twisted side to side ten times in a V-sit, then switching. We did about ten reps of those before calling it a day for our abs. After that I lifted a couple of light weights and stretched again, Neal doing the same. We chatted, but didn’t really talk about much of anything. He was one of the guys on the team that I could definitely call my friend, but we didn’t spend a ton of time together outside of the rink even though we got along.
“Well, I think I’m gonna hit the showers,” he said a few minutes later, and I nodded.
“I will too in a couple minutes; I’m gonna work my knees a little bit first,” I said, and he raised an eyebrow.
“What exactly did you do to them? I knew you’d screwed them up somehow,”
“How did you know?”
“You favor one and then the other, so I figured you must’ve wrecked them both. But… I don’t know how to explain it, you just walk different. My little brother hurt his knees and it’s not like really noticeable or anything, but you walk a little different,” he shrugged, and I didn’t know what to say.
“Yeah, I uh, used to play basketball in high school, and then hockey on top of that. I over-extended them in basketball and didn’t take a break from either sport, and one basketball game they just blew. It hurt like a fucking bitch and I couldn’t walk for a couple of days before they gave me industrial knee braces and crutches for a couple of weeks,” I told him, and he nodded, sitting back against the wall.
“Jesus that sounds rough,”
“It was, but it’s whatever; I’m a lot more careful now than I was then,” I shrugged, not knowing what else to say about it. I pulled the dog tag necklace out from under my shirt, running my fingers over the familiar inscriptions; the ones that were basically burned into my brain.
“What’s that?”
“The necklace my dad gave me when I was four; it was right before my first hockey game. He told me it’d be my lucky charm,” I explained, staring down at it as I felt a few hot tears threatening my eyes.
“That’s cool; you know, that you have a piece of him like that to take with you wherever you go. Some people don’t have that,” he said, and I nodded.
“I know. It’s still so hard… right after…. I almost couldn’t make myself wear it, but I couldn’t make myself play without it. It didn’t feel right, not after having worn it every single practice and game I’d ever played,”
“Yeah. I can’t say I know what you mean, but I can imagine that it must’ve been hell,” he said, and again I nodded.
“I’ll let you be Cam; I didn’t mean to bring anything up,” he apologized.
“No, you didn’t Neal; don’t worry about it,” I insisted, and he gave me a small grin.
“You’re a lot tougher than I think even you realize you are Cam; I don’t know a lot of guys who’ve seen some of the stuff you have and that are so pulled together and can take the shit you can with dignity. Like the whole Max thing; a lot of guys could have taken that, but none of them would have handled it the way you did. You’ve got guts man,” he grinned, and I managed a small grin for him.
“Thanks; that means a lot to hear you say that. I’m used to being told I’m too small or I’m too light that I’m not physical enough, and that I’m not tough enough… it’s nice to finally feel like I can just be part of the team rather than trying to prove everybody wrong every second of the day,”
“You just had to let things fall into place; you fought and proved them all wrong, and now look where you are; on a team where you fit in and where you belong. Fate has a funny way of working itself out,” he told me, and I nodded as he stood up.
“Well, work those knees out good; I know Staalsy worries about you blowing one and him being out of his superstar rookie winger,” he smirked, and I laughed. That did sound like Jordan.
“I’ll work them out really good, I promise,” I repeated, and he nodded, heading down the hall and chuckling to himself. I did some stretches and then laid out on my back, feeling a few satisfying pops as I did so. When I heard a door close I knew Neal was dressed and out of the locker room, so I made my way in, being as quick as was humanely possible. I had just pulled on a T-shirt and my shorts when the door swung open, scaring me.
“Oh, hey Cam,” I relaxed momentarily when I saw it was Sid, and that he must not have seen me changing.
“Hey Sid; getting in a work out too?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I better after last night,” he grinned, and I laughed a little. We talked for a few minutes, before I got all of my gear together and headed back to my car. I only got a little lost once on the way home; and all I had to do was cut through a mall parking lot because I had missed my corner, nothing too serious or difficult.