The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 52: Contract

~Ben~~April~

The playoffs start in two days. We ranked third in the Eastern Conference which means that we got a free pass to the playoffs. Both the players and the managing team were very happy about the results we obtained during the regular season, but nothing is certain at this point. The playoffs could be compared to war: it's a battle of every instant where every minute of every game matters. I consider myself very lucky to have the chance to participate in the playoffs during my first season as an NHL player.

Playoff season is also the time where coaches and general managers start looking for new players for their set-up for next year's season. It means that, even if I signed a two-year-contract with the Islanders, another team could make me an offer to buy me out of my contract. Even if I would love to stay with my team next year, not getting any offers would mean that I didn't make an impression and that my chances to get drafted next year could be low. Connor told me he would do his best to get me offers, but I don't know how much I can count on him. He did well when we negotiated this contract, but he has never done this before, and it stresses me out. In fact, everything pretty much stresses me out.

Since my conversation with my father, my self-esteem took a boost. I still feel the need to perform but I don't feel the need to prove to my father that I made the right choice by choosing hockey. I want to perform for myself and for my team because winning feels so damn good. And I have been winning in every aspect of my life. I never felt so at peace with my job and my relationship with Eleanor has never been better. I would say we are back to the way we were before all of this happened, but I don't think it would be 100% true. We are stronger than ever before, and it shows on an everyday basis. We both encourage each other in our respective jobs, and we take care of Ophelia equally. It's going so well that Eleanor decided not to renew her lease back in January and has been living with me in the house full-time. Even if it was pretty much the case beforehand, it still felt great to know she would be with me every morning when I wake up.

We are on a roll: The Islanders have been kicking ass since we came back from the Christmas break and Nathan and I can take responsibility for most of it, and Eleanor is meeting with her editor about her newest book right now. I am on my way to the arena after dropping off Ophelia at daycare, and I can't hide the smile on my face. This morning, Eleanor received an e-mail from a publishing company in Los Angeles telling her that they would be thrilled to publish whatever she writes next. She didn't even send them her newest book; they loved The Tales of a Future Hockey Wife that much. Of course, she doesn't intend on taking their offer, but it's still pleasant to know you are getting the recognition you deserve. And me? I just got offered a new sponsorship. McDonald's new campaign is about friendship at work, they even suggest that you apply with a friend, and they would like Nathan and I to personify this concept. We will be filmed on and off the ice as we grab a meal at McDonald's after a practice. Of course, the concept is illogic. No one, in their right mind, would go to McDonald's after a practice as intense as ours, but it's the thought that counts, right? This ad will be shown all around New York, including Times Square. We are supposed to start filming this afternoon after our regular practice. On another positive note, the coaches haven't asked me for a blood or urine test since the first article about me popped in the newspaper. They now have trust that I add value to this team, and they know that they're not giving me a favor by keeping me on.

The second I step into the locker rooms; Nathan grabs my arm. "Did you see that?" he asks as he throws a newspaper at me. I shake my head, bending down to grab the newspaper that fell on the floor. On the front page of the sports' section is written in big letters: Could Benji Johnson and Nathan Finley give The Islanders their first Stanley Cup since '83? For a moment, I can't say anything. I look at Nathan and then back at the article to read the first few lines.