Broken Ice

Chapter 1

Brady

"Skate! Rossi, you are out of position again. To the post."

I shifted quickly on my skates, pulling up to stop on the opposite side of my goalie. I turned just in time to receive the pass from my defensemen. But it was too late to make a play at the puck as it ricocheted off the tip of my blade into the goalie's hands. Mitchell Caldwell, my goalie, tapped my shin pads with his stick as he dropped the puck back onto the ice for the next drill. He knew I had screwed up the play.

Calder Finley, the second-line center, skated up behind me.

"You ok, Rossi?"

Calder had been my linemate until 2 weeks ago when I had been removed from the second line because of my less-than-stellar play of late. The change to third-line wing wasn't great for my ego or my game. I think Coach had hoped to pull my head out of my ass with the move, but it hadn't worked.

"Fine." I pulled back to skate to center ice. There really was no excuse for my lack of productivity. I just couldn't seem to find the back of the net. I knew I was in my head about it, but fuck if I knew how to fix it. The more I tried, the worse it seemed to get. After all these years, I should be used to being the underdog.

It was days like today that my stepdad's voice was loudest in my ear. Most people thought having the great John Boyle as their dad was great, but they hadn't been raised in the shadow of the hockey great. I had never been able to live up to his expectations of me then or now. Despite starting as a freshman on the University of Michigan's hockey team, he had loudly doubted my mom that I would be able to make it to the NHL. He was even disappointed when I had been drafted. Tampa picked me up after my first year, but I wasn't an "elite prospect" to him because I hadn't been drafted till the second round. After all, there were 30 other players who were better than I was, or so he reminded me on draft day. I had become accustomed to his disappointment after all these years. The criticism had become the background noise of my life.

My mom was amazing, and I was glad that she had found someone to make her happy. Being a single mom of two young boys at 28 was not what she had envisioned for her life. My younger brother and I had lived to skate. Mom would always remark that as soon as we could walk, we had laced up our skates and begged the neighbor to let us skate on his backyard pond. Long after others returned to their houses, we would still be out there skating. With pink cheeks, red noses, and frozen fingers, we would reluctantly trudge back to the house, but only when we could no longer feel our feet.

My skill and passion for hockey and skating were evident even at a young age. So, it had been a big deal when John Boyle announced that he was hosting a skills camp for the 10U kids. John Boyle was somewhat of a "local" success story. He was from Michigan, so the whole state claimed him as their own when he made it to the NHL. Drafted by Pittsburg in the first round, he never played a day in the minors. After playing for Boston College in the Frozen Four, he immediately started his career in the majors, playing his first game with Pittsburg only one week after being eliminated from the NCAA tournament.

Like many other NHL players, John set up camps in the off-season to help foster the growth and development of hockey throughout the country. He had grown up in Northern Michigan, so he wanted to give back to the area. My coach had recommended me for the camp, and I was beyond excited. I remember bragging to all of my friends; it was wild to think I would get the opportunity to learn from NHL players. It was an unbelievable opportunity to be able to spend even one hour surrounded by these professionals, but I was going to be able to spend a whole weekend with them.