I was slowly becoming a better hockey coach. My half of the team was certainly having fun at practice. The day that Constable Reyes came with his radar gun was the best. He was an off-duty RCMP officer and a distant relative of Kimmy Reyes, the smallest player on the team. Constable Reyes was not that tall either, but he looked strong and commanding, and all the kids wanted to impress him. We combined the two halves of the team since everyone wanted their shot velocity measured. Between turns, I worked hard with my group to show them how to improve.
Afterwards, I whistled them together.
“Hey guys, we have something for you. From Mr. Kyrlenko.” That was Tommy’s dad, and he beamed. I produced a large vinyl floor tile and everyone looked stunned. “This is your mini-rink,” I told them. “You can take this home and practice your new shooting techniques without wrecking the floor at home. And you can use it outside. The main thing is to have the same smooth surface as the ice so you can practice the motions you learnt today. No pucks though, you’ll wreck the house. Use whiffle balls, tennis balls, even wadded-up paper balls—the main thing is to practice the motion. And tape your sticks beforehand and then again before games.”
Mr. Kyrlenko handed out a tile to each player. They cradled them like gold bars.
“Thank you so much,” I told him.
“Happy to help,” he assured me. His job was in floor installation, and this project was something Henrietta and I had dreamed up. The tile itself wasn’t important, as much as feeling special and having a visual reminder to practice. Tommy Krylenko was so proud that his dad played such an important role. The two of them strutted off to the dressing room together.
“Excuse me, Coach Kelly.”
I turned and saw Layla. She was the best female player on our team and part of Mark’s group.
“Hey, Layla. What’s up?”
“I want to switch to your group for practice.”
“But you’re such a good player. My group is for players who need to work on their skating and basic skills. I think you’d be bored.”
She shook her head. “Your group is having way more fun. They’re always laughing after. And Kimmy and Tawny are my friends at school.”
Layla looked pretty determined. “I’ll talk to Mark,” I told her. He had a few more players than me anyway. “But you have to work hard. If the drills are too easy, you’re going to have to figure out ways to make them more challenging.”
She nodded. “I can even help other people if you like. I’m the oldest in my family, so I’m used to that.”
“Nothing like a big sister,” I told her. She smiled and took off. But she had just given me a really good idea.
After practice, I went to see Lois, the program coordinator.
“Hi Kelly. I hear that you’re doing really well as the new coach.”
“You heard that already? It’s only been a few practices.”
“Word gets around.” Lois had a finger on the pulse of everything happening here.
“Lois, I need more ice time for my players.”
“Everyone wants more ice time. Sorry, honey, there isn’t any. Too bad nobody can use the ice during the day—that’s when it’s available and cheap. Well, relatively cheap.”
I looked at the upside-down ice schedule. “The kids get out at 3:00, right? So they could take one of these cheap sessions from 3:00 to 4:00?”
“Sure. The problem is that the parents are working. Nobody has a job that finishes that early.”
Except me! “Lois, I have a plan. I’d like to partner high school-aged girls who play hockey with kids on my team. Just to practice skating and later, maybe skills. I know the high schools require thirty hours of volunteer work to graduate, so I’m sure I won’t have trouble getting skating coaches.”
She nodded. “It’s a good idea. The rink, the elementary school, and the high school are all so close together, they could be on the ice and get nearly an hour of ice time before the programs begin at 4:00. But we would have to put together permission sheets and also—” She paused and shook her head. “There would be insurance issues. Minor hockey has coverage and so do rec centre programs. But Kelly, this is outside of both those. You’re going to need insurance and money for the ice. Even though it’s cheap, it’s not free.”
“I’ve got a plan for that too. Can you help me work out the costs?”
She nodded and pulled together some numbers in no time. Then it was my turn to work some magic.
“What? I don’t hear from you for months and now you’re asking me for money?” Tyler Ballanchuk’s voice on the phone was teasing.
“Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever called you. So you could say that every time I call you I’m asking for money. But it’s for a really good cause, and I know what a charitable person you are.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Besides all the cosmic karma? We’ll promote your organ donation charity. I’ll send out a newsletter to all the parents, and we can hang a banner at our games.” It wasn’t a great return, but this wasn’t that much money either. However, I was worried that he got hit up constantly and might turn me down.
“A banner that you have spray-painted like some elementary school art class? Gee, thanks.”
“Okay, I’ll get someone artistically-talented to do it, like my mom. Please, Ty.”
“You know, Kelly, I should be hanging up on you. You created the big mess I had to mop up.”
I figured we’d have to get to this topic at some point. “How is he?”
“Hockey-wise, he’s fine. And socially, well—apparently he’s fine.”
“I can guess from your tone that he’s dating someone—someone you’re not crazy about.”
Ty laughed. “She’s okay. But she’s not helping him with all his intensity issues. He’s the leading contender to have a heart attack at twenty.” He dropped his glib tone. “Why did you guys break up? I could tell you were really into each other.”
Ty was the only friend of Jimmy’s who saw the two of us together this summer. “I don’t think I’m the right person for him—for his Chicago life.”
“Which you know nothing about,” he pointed out. “And isn’t that really up to Freeze? But I guess you’ve moved on.”
I didn’t respond to that. If Jimmy knew how bleak my social life was and how much I still missed him, he might get the wrong idea.
“Don’t worry. I won’t mention our little chat to him. He was pretty decimated afterwards, and there’s no point opening that up again.”
A deep pain went through my chest. I never wanted to hurt Jimmy or Phil, and I ended up hurting both. I was like the nuclear dating bomb. I didn’t think I could go on talking about this subject. “Ty, um, I’ll let you think about this, and you can get back to me if you’re interested.”
“Kelly, you’re the worst closer ever. I can see you’ve never sold anything. Look, I’m sorry I brought up the subject of Freeze, let’s get back to business.”
“Fine with me,” I replied.
“I’m happy to do this. In fact, I’ll throw in enough for you to get jerseys with my foundation logo on them. I’ll text you a contact person who will send you a cheque and oversee the jerseys.”
“Really? Ty, that’s fantastic. Thank you so much.”
“No worries. It’s not a lot for what you’re trying to do.”
“Well, it’s not a lot for you, but it will be huge for these kids. It’s not like they’re poor, but they’re not rich either.” I figured that some kids could pay for help, but I didn’t want to force everyone to.
Putting it together turned out to be a breeze. I contacted two Midget girls teams in the area and got all the volunteers I needed in no time. They were thrilled to skate for their volunteer hours, just as I would have been five years ago.
While everyone in my group was happy to get the extra skating time, a few of the boys wondered why all the buddy partners were girls. But it was part of my mission to show everyone how good female hockey players could be. Adding teenaged guys might change skating practice into a hormonal flirting session—boys could be trouble.
We started to see results right away. One extra ice session each week was enough to immediately improve their skating and fitness. Since they were skating better, they got more touches on the puck during a game, and then their skills and confidence went up. It was a cycle of hockey goodness.
“Hey, Kelly,” Mark commented to me after a game where we lost by only one goal. “You’ve been doing a great job with those kids. This is the second game in a row when we didn’t get blown out.”
“Maybe we’ll win one soon,” I said to him.
“Oh, dare to dream.” He laughed. After losing all last season, Mark wasn’t much of an optimist. But the mood of the whole team was happier. Losing a close game was much better than getting annihilated and taunted. I noticed that team camaraderie was improving; there was less division between the “good” players and my group. We were becoming a real team.