Growing Up
Chapter 1
It was a beautiful, sunny, but slightly chilly April morning in Stockholm, Sweden. Niklas Kronwall walked through the city, thinking about the NHL drafts next summer. He really wanted to try out, but he wasn't sure if he was good enough. His mother always told him not to doubt himself, but it was hard sometimes. He shook the thoughts from his head and went to his friend's house. He knocked on the door and waited for an answer.
"Hallå? Niklas är det du? Jag kommer strax!" (Hello? Niklas, is that you? I'll be right there!)
Niklas could hear footsteps clunking across the wooden floor. He suppressed a laugh at how spastic his friend was. The door opened and he smiled.
"Hej , Sven . Får jag komma in?" (Hello, Sven. May I come in?)
Sven led him inside and flopped on his couch, motioning for Niklas to join him. He accepted the offer and slowly sat down.
"Sven , det är något jag måste berätta för dig..." (Sven, there's something I have to tell you...)
His eyes grew wide and looked up at Niklas.
"Du är inte lämnar mig är du? Jag menar , du är inte flytta..." (You're not leaving me are you? I mean, you're not moving...)
Niklas nodded.
"Jag ska till USA för att prova ut för NHL." (I'm going to the States to try out for the NHL.)
Niklas could see the hurt in his friend's eyes. He felt awful, but he really wanted a chance at his dream.
"Jag ska besöka okej? Jag lovar. Ha en bra dag." (I'll visit okay? I promise. Have a good day.)
Without anything else to say, he got up and left. Making the decision to leave Sweden was a tough one, and the thought brought tears to his eyes. But he had to push through it to have a chance. He made his way through the city streets and went home.
"Mamma? Jag är hemma." (Mom? I'm home.)
Tove Kronwall came out of the living room and hugged her middle child.
"Hej baby, är du okej ? Du ser upprörd . Berätta momma vad som är fel." (Hi baby, are you ok? You look upset. Tell momma what's wrong.)
Niklas felt a blush appear across his cheeks. He loved his mom to death, but sometimes her comments were a little embarrassing.
"Mamma, jag är okej." (Mom, I'm okay.)
She gave him a stern look.
"Hans Niklas Kronwall, berätta sanningen." (Hans Niklas Kronwall, tell me the truth.)
He blushed redder at the use of his full name. Tove rarely used it unless he was in trouble.
"Mamma, jag kommer till USA för att prova ut för NHL." (Mom, I'm going to the States to try out for the NHL.)
She nodded, almost deep in thought.
"Var försiktig och glöm inte att ringa mig. Var artig och ung. Amerikanerna kommer att tacka dig för det." (Be careful and don't forget to call me. Be polite as well young man. The Americans will thank you for it.)
He hugged her and smiled.
"Ja, mamma, jag kommer." (Yes, Mom, I will.)
He ran up to his room to pack his suitcase.
I'm so nervous about this...what will they think of me? No, stop it, you can do this! Momma believes in you...you should as well...
He packed everything neatly and brought it with him to say a final farewell to Tove before he headed to the airport.
"Adjö Mamma , jag älskar dig och kommer att prata med dig snart!" (Goodbye Mom, I love you and will talk to you soon!)
She hugged him tightly before letting him go.
"Adjö son , uppför dig och ha en bra tid . Glöm inte om mig eller dina bröder!" (Goodbye son, behave yourself and have a good time. Don't forget about me or your brothers!)
He grinned and shook his head.
"Jag kommer inte." (I won't.)
He gave one last wave and headed out the door.
"Hallå? Niklas är det du? Jag kommer strax!" (Hello? Niklas, is that you? I'll be right there!)
Niklas could hear footsteps clunking across the wooden floor. He suppressed a laugh at how spastic his friend was. The door opened and he smiled.
"Hej , Sven . Får jag komma in?" (Hello, Sven. May I come in?)
Sven led him inside and flopped on his couch, motioning for Niklas to join him. He accepted the offer and slowly sat down.
"Sven , det är något jag måste berätta för dig..." (Sven, there's something I have to tell you...)
His eyes grew wide and looked up at Niklas.
"Du är inte lämnar mig är du? Jag menar , du är inte flytta..." (You're not leaving me are you? I mean, you're not moving...)
Niklas nodded.
"Jag ska till USA för att prova ut för NHL." (I'm going to the States to try out for the NHL.)
Niklas could see the hurt in his friend's eyes. He felt awful, but he really wanted a chance at his dream.
"Jag ska besöka okej? Jag lovar. Ha en bra dag." (I'll visit okay? I promise. Have a good day.)
Without anything else to say, he got up and left. Making the decision to leave Sweden was a tough one, and the thought brought tears to his eyes. But he had to push through it to have a chance. He made his way through the city streets and went home.
"Mamma? Jag är hemma." (Mom? I'm home.)
Tove Kronwall came out of the living room and hugged her middle child.
"Hej baby, är du okej ? Du ser upprörd . Berätta momma vad som är fel." (Hi baby, are you ok? You look upset. Tell momma what's wrong.)
Niklas felt a blush appear across his cheeks. He loved his mom to death, but sometimes her comments were a little embarrassing.
"Mamma, jag är okej." (Mom, I'm okay.)
She gave him a stern look.
"Hans Niklas Kronwall, berätta sanningen." (Hans Niklas Kronwall, tell me the truth.)
He blushed redder at the use of his full name. Tove rarely used it unless he was in trouble.
"Mamma, jag kommer till USA för att prova ut för NHL." (Mom, I'm going to the States to try out for the NHL.)
She nodded, almost deep in thought.
"Var försiktig och glöm inte att ringa mig. Var artig och ung. Amerikanerna kommer att tacka dig för det." (Be careful and don't forget to call me. Be polite as well young man. The Americans will thank you for it.)
He hugged her and smiled.
"Ja, mamma, jag kommer." (Yes, Mom, I will.)
He ran up to his room to pack his suitcase.
I'm so nervous about this...what will they think of me? No, stop it, you can do this! Momma believes in you...you should as well...
He packed everything neatly and brought it with him to say a final farewell to Tove before he headed to the airport.
"Adjö Mamma , jag älskar dig och kommer att prata med dig snart!" (Goodbye Mom, I love you and will talk to you soon!)
She hugged him tightly before letting him go.
"Adjö son , uppför dig och ha en bra tid . Glöm inte om mig eller dina bröder!" (Goodbye son, behave yourself and have a good time. Don't forget about me or your brothers!)
He grinned and shook his head.
"Jag kommer inte." (I won't.)
He gave one last wave and headed out the door.