Aspiring

A Free Agent to a Boston Blackhawk

Lillian, Patrick and Fiyero all took their seats in the arena’s seats, behind the boards. A few seconds later they saw Tyler Marchand walk out of the home tunnel, his head held high and proud, a massive smile on his face. Any doubt that had been there for his health faded at once. He took a few warm up laps around the rink.

Tyler wasn’t being drafted, he was just a free agent...a person scouted by the local team to join the big dogs. He was a simple Nova Scotian born hockey player with dreams of winning the Stanley Cup, but he also had talent. Talent beyond his years. He was a stunning player and man. And that was what got him his scouting and his potential tryout.

He scooped up a puck at the center dot and zoomed forward toward the goal, warming up his shooting and accuracy shot. After a few moments, some other people came onto the ice. One of them looked like a younger version of Jonathan Toews. He had dark brown hair and a pair of gorgeous amber brown puppy eyes.

“Tyler Marchand,” a snowy haired man questioned.

Tyler spun from shooting, tapping a backhander slickly into the netting. He skated over and skidded to a halt before the group of men and the snowy haired guy.

The Jonathan Toews-looking man commented, “Sick talent there, kid.”

Tyler grinned. “Thanks.”

The snowy-haired man introduced himself and then the man. “I’m the coach of the Blackhawks, Mr. Julien Kucherov or Coach K. That’s the Blackhawk captain, Mr. Jonathan Getzlaf, and a few of the other players.”

“I’d know him anywhere,” Tyler remarked. “How could I live in Boston and not know him?”

“It comes with the face, right?” Jonathan remarked, jokingly. His teammates chirped him, but he maintained his stature. “And you’re one of the free agents trying out for the team, eh?”

Tyler dipped his head. But...what was this “one” of the free agents comment about? Who was the other.

“Today you and another player are going to go head-to-head and whoever fares better, gets the spot,” the coach stated. “You both are similar, but you’re a little more offensive minded. He has more toughness and grit. But we’ll see how you both fare. We like the talent, but you will have to toughen up some, Tyler.”

Tyler nodded. “Anything.”

“Then let’s get this started!” The veteran players and coach went to the bench, while another man walked down the tunnel and onto the ice.

He launched onto the ice and came to a halt before Tyler. The young man gasped at once, as the other man grinned devilishly at him. “How’s it been Marchy? I see you’re still alive and well.”

Tyler glanced to his friends, who were looking awkwardly at him. Lillian smacked Patrick on the arm and told him something, pointing at the man.

“Andrew!” Tyler spat, getting over the initial shock. “As if kicking your ass before wasn’t enough for you!”

“It’s a shame that the horny females couldn’t take care of you, eh?”

“What--what do you--?” Tyler stammered. Then he froze in place, staring at his old rival.

Andrew Campbell smirked. He glanced to the side and spotted Tyler’s friends and Lillian there. They all looked shocked. “Awe, are those your little friends, Tylie...and...oh my, is that little Lillian!”

“Fuck off Soupy!” Lillian screamed. “Mickey and Syd are gone, Tyler’s free and I’m not hurting him anymore!!”

“Feisty little bitch, ain’t she?” Andrew sneered.