An Old Friend of Mine

Howie flipped his curly blonde hair, tucked his golden crucifix into his shirt, and then exhaled a deep breath of fresh air. It was a warm spring day with a gentle breeze. He was on a hockey recruiting visit with his mother and was expecting a scholarship offer. The head coach, Donnie, who had a bushy salt and pepper moustache, gave him and his mother a solid handshake; then, he led them on a tour around the campus. The assistant coach, Nelson, who Howie liked much more, was there too. He had come to see Howie’s summer team play and was scouting another one of Howie’s teammates. That night Howie scored a hat trick and the assistant coach spoke with him directly after the game.

As they toured the campus Howie kept feeling pressure to think of what to say next. To be polite he asked Coach Nelson if he knew anyone in the incoming class.

“Well,” he said, in a drowsy voice. “We are going to take the center from your third string. We know he’s not a good player but his father donated a little bit of money to the hockey program already and is going to commit more each year, so we are going to take him on.”

Howie exchanged a glance with his mother. There was no remorse in the assistant coach’s drowsy voice. Howie felt a painful strain in his chest as they made their way back to the office. He could sense that the coach was looking to close the deal right there. I got it, he thought.

“What was your guys record last year?” he asked innocently.

“Howie,” Donnie said, sharply and with a scornful laugh. “Do yourself a favor and look these things up before you come on a recruiting visit.”

Howie felt a cold wave of uneasiness flow over his body.

Donnie put the deal on the table, which Howie wasn’t happy to hear. Donnie reassured him that it was a great deal and that it was tough to give out scholarships, let alone a roster spot.

Shortly after the meeting, Howie’s summer coach tried to talk some “sense” into him after hockey practice.

“Why didn’t you take the offer?”

“Because I still have some applications out to better academic schools and I want to hear what they have to say,” Howie admitted honestly.

“I think you are making a mistake. You are leaving money on the table and an opportunity to play high-level hockey with an old friend of mine. You don’t know yet if you are going to get into your number one school and even if you do, you are not going to walk-on. I called the coach and he told me their roster is full. If you don’t accept this offer, then you are not going to play hockey anymore. Is that want you want to do?”

“No, but I’ll take my chances. I think I will get accepted into a better school, and if not, then I can say that I rolled the dice,” he said, confidently following his instinct.

“That’s what you want to do? You want to roll the dice with your hockey career?” his coach asked scornfully, gritting his teeth in frustration and tapping his foot absentmindedly.

Howie nodded his head.

His summer coach turned his back on him and folded his hands of all responsibility. After that conversation, Howie could have been ice under his coach’s skates for the rest of the season.

It wasn’t until a decade later that Howie thought back with his buddy on a drunken night: what if I looked straight through the coach’s bushy moustache, ignored my gut, and accepted the offer.

Certainly he would have been on the roster and broken into the rotation seamlessly (maybe having a slightly tougher time his first year.) Naturally he would have improved his game each year and developed strong relationships with his teammates and coaches, who grew to love him as a tough competitor. By junior year he would be the captain and selected for the all-conference team. If he was lucky, he might have been drafted in one of the late rounds, although he was never going to get a serious opportunity to play. But that scenario didn’t excite him.

As he was determining his path after hockey he would have met a girl. She would have been a cheerleader, who everyone thought was popular, but secretly was a shy person. She would only open up to him and he would realize that she was more like a wallflower than a butterfly. Howie would have gotten to know her well because they went to nearby high schools in Brooklyn. In fact, she went to his sister school and her brother was in Howie’s geometry class. She would have had dark hair, a shining smile, and come from a big family. And for some reason- he knew this part very strongly- her name would have been: Melanie. Yes, he thought for certain, her name would have been Melanie!