Aspiring

After that magical day, no thanks to Andrew and his pitiful, petty rivalry with him, Tyler Marchand was no longer invisible. He was now somebody. He was a hockey player. On his way to great things.

Tyler raced home after the Shoot-Out to his parent’s house in Upper Tantallon, northwest of the public rink in Halifax and west of Bedford and Hammonds Plains, but no more than thirty minutes away. Being super excited, his adrenaline had peaked and he found himself gunning the engine and flying home in fifteen minutes.

He pulled into the driveway, got out and immediately raced up the stairs and into his house, which was a luxurious style place. it comfortably allowed for a family of four to live there. The remarkable lake front property had everything one would need and more. over 5,700 square feet of living space, featuring four bedrooms and four bathrooms, three attached garages and two detached garages for “man toys,” like boats, lawn equipment and such.

Inside, the master bedroom was over 600 square feet with the five piece ensuite, walk in closet, and breathtaking views of Wrights lake. The upper level featured three more large bedrooms and two more full bathrooms. The main level featured a chef’s dream kitchen with granite counter tops and high end cabinetry. The main floor featured an open concept with lake views in almost every room. The lower level featured its own home theater room, a den and full bathroom, and a large game room for: pool, air hockey, or a home gym. Tyler and his family had a half-in-half room. Part of it was game and part of it was gym. His father had always told him that he would need the gym area to keep his shape and size for hockey, if he was serious about getting to the NHL.

Outside, in the backyard, a fourteen by forty foot rear deck allowed one to enjoy these views every day of the summer. And there was even an in-ground pool and hot tub in the private fenced backyard for the kids or grandkids, an amazing space to entertain.

Overall, it was a great family home. He dashed inside, through the front double oak door, of a rich color. And entered the living room. He found his parents sitting on a long leather could, watching the local professional team, the Halifax Mooseheads play. His brother, Jefferson, sat on the far side of his parents.

His mother and father glanced over to him, as he dropped his bag and stuff right at his feet. He was beaming largely. “How was the Shoot-Out?” The question came from everyone on the couch, including his brother.

“I was asked to play hockey for the Boston College Eagles!” Tyler rang out.

“That’s wonderful, honey!” His mother’s response came at once. She was always the first to congratulate him. He always thought is was just a mom thing. She stood up and came over to hug him.

“Mom!” Tyler whined, as she mashed his face against her chest in motherly love. He felt like Simba getting the lick down from his mother in The Lion King. She finally released him and he was quickly grabbed by his older brother, Jefferson, who took him in a headlock.

“I’m so proud of you, lil bro!” He gave Tyler a nuggie.

“Thanks, Jeff.”

Finally, his father, a large business man, who was once a feared goon on the ice for Halifax, stood up from the couch. He flashed a smile. This man had finally hung the gloves and skates up to be a professional business man for a company in Downtown Halifax. He had played on the Halifax Mooseheads team, longing to make it to the NHL like all young Canadian children, but he was just never good enough. So when Tyler made it known that he was interested and willing to sacrifice for the same dream, his dad was all about helping him to achieve that goal. One that unfortunately he could not. And he saw the drive and the skill in his son.

“So, Boston College, eh?”

“Yeah! They really wanted me!”

“What about that other kid you’ve been fighting with, Andrew?”

“Soupy’s got nothing on me. He isn’t the one got invited to play for the BC Eagles!”

“That’s the damn truth!” Mr. Marchand chanted.

“In fact he almost hit me with the puck during the Shoot-Out!” Tyler revealed. “But he missed.”

“Am I going to have to go have a chat with Mrs. Campbell?” Mrs. Marchand questioned, frowning and putting her hands on her hips.

“No, no. Maybe.”

“Honey, don’t talk to him, our son is learning how to cope with bullies on the ice. It is good for him.”

“But I don’t want anyone to hurt my son! They can’t damage his sweet, boyish face!” She pinched Tyler’s cheek like only a mother would do. Tyler batted her hand away, moaning.

“Mom, I’m 17!”

“I know but you’re still my cute little boy!”

“I don’t wanna be cute!”

“Right, right. I’m not raising a cute hockey player! Hockey players aren’t cute or adorable, they are robust, tough warriors!” His father chimed out, raising his head up proudly and earning a playful backhanded slap from his wife on the arm.

“He’s that too, but he’s also a cutie!” Jefferson teased, grabbing his brother in a headlock again and ruffling his hair.

Tyler pushed at him, laughing and complaining at the same time. He pressed against his older brother’s chest, finally shoving him away. The man was in a fit of chuckles, as he furiously worked to flatten his hair back now into its normal style. “Stop messing up my hair, Jeff!”

“So, I guess you are going to need to get ready to go to Boston then!” The big muscular man spoke.

“I guess so.”

“Well then, let’s get to Boston and get out of Nova Scotia!”

And with that, Tyler packed up all of his stuff, spent the last of his day there and bid farewell to his family and was dropped off by his father at the airport, where he met up with the college recruit. Just before he left, Tyler spun around and threw his arms around his father in a massive embrace.

“I know you are ready. You’ll be fine and you’ll knock ‘em dead! Remember, what a wise man once said, ‘Nobody’s a natural. You work hard to get good and then work to get better. It’s hard to stay on top.’ Hockey players have fire in their hearts and ice in their veins, go knock ‘em dead kid!”

“I will. I’ll make you proud!”