“That is a death sentence,” Nance agrees.
“I mean, that’s a bit dramatic,” Shane says, and they both ignore him.
“The best way to break through this tension and animosity is to stop treating each other as enemies and start viewing each other as fellow human beings.”
“Human beings,” Nance repeats, nodding. She takes over for Sheldon. “For the next hour, we’re going to do just that. Is everyone ready?”
Everyone is not. We all look at her sullenly.
“Our first activity is called Name and Thing. Grab the beanbag, Shel!”
“Why is there always a beanbag?” sighs Beckett.
Sheldon darts over to a large plastic tub containing horrors I hope never to have to see. He scoops out a pink beanbag and returns to the circle, tossing the bag back and forth between his own hands. He looks so excited I expect urine stains to appear at the front of his khakis at some point.
“I don’t want to play hockey anymore,” Nazzy says solemnly, looking around. “I quit the team.”
Nance laughs. “Sheldon! Looks like we found the joker in the group.”
“We sure did.” Sheldon sweeps his happy robot gaze over us. “This game is so easy, it barely requires explanation. But here’s how it goes. When the bag is in your hands, you say your name and a thing that you like. When you’re done, you toss the bag to somebody else, until everyone on the team has said their name and their thing.”
“And it can be anything you like,” exclaims Nance. “It can be pasta. It can be daydreaming. Anything at all, so long as you like it. Any questions?”
Someone raises his hand. A senior named Tristan.
“Why are you guys so cheerful? What kind of drugs do you take, and do they show up in drug tests?”
A wave of laughter travels through the circle.
Nance addresses the question earnestly. “I can’t speak for Sheldon, but I’m cheerful because I feel cheer. And I feel cheer because I love uniting people. In fact, toss me the beanbag, Sheldon.”
He throws it into her open palms.
“My name is Nance. And I like uniting people. That’s my name. And that’s my thing.”
She throws it back to Sheldon who beams at us. “My name is Sheldon,” he says. “And I like cheesecake.”
“See how easy that was?” Nance is smiling so hard, it looks like her jaw’s about to snap in two. “Okey dokey, let’s start.”
The first toss goes to a Briar guy. Boone Woodrow.
The normally quiet sophomore clears his throat. “Uh. My name’s Boone but everyone calls me Woody.”
“Oh, this is more fun than I thought,” Sheldon interrupts, nodding at Nance. “Share your nicknames if you have them, boys. Go on, Woody. What’s your thing?”
“I, uh…” Woodrow thinks it over. “I like hockey.”
Before he can lob the bag to someone else in the circle, Nance wags her finger.
“Oh, no, we can do better than that, Woody. I think it’s safe to assume everyone likes hockey because you’re all in this room and you’re all on the hockey team.”
“Yeah, Captain Obvious,” Tim Coffey cracks.
Woodrow rolls his eyes. “Fine. I also like baseball. I pitch for Briar in the spring.” He glances at the pastel robots for confirmation that he passed their test.
“Excellent,” Sheldon says. “To the rest of you—that will be the only sports answer allowed.”
“Oh, fuck you, Woody,” Trager mutters. “Way to hog the one sports answer.”
“Let’s try to expand our horizons,” Sheldon advises. “Dig a little deeper.”
“All right, Woody,” Nance chirps. “Bean that bag.”
She should be arrested for that phrase.
Woodrow throws the beanbag to Austin Pope.
“I’m Austin.” The freshman mulls for a second. “I like video games, I guess.” He pitches it to Patrick Armstrong.
“Yeah. I’m Patrick, a.k.a. the Kansas Kid. I like dogs.” He tosses the bag to Shane.
“Shane Lindley. I like golf, and I don’t care that you said we can’t pick sports. Because I like to play golf.” He throws it to Beckett.
“Beckett Dunne. I like sex.”
There’s a wave of muffled laughter.
For some reason, his answer has the opposite effect on me. Suddenly I’m hit with the memory of Beckett’s tongue in Gigi’s mouth, and it brings a tight clench to my chest.
I’m not jealous, damn it.
I don’t get jealous. Jealousy implies I care about something enough to covet it for myself, and caring is not in my wheelhouse.
“We are going to assume that as red-blooded American hockey players, you all enjoy sex,” Sheldon says graciously. “Pick something else.”
Beckett purses his lips. “All right. I’m into time travel.”
Nance claps her hands. “Well, that’s interesting! I’d love to hear more. Wouldn’t everyone love to hear more?”
Will Larsen glances at Beckett, curious. “Like, talking about it? Theorizing?”
“Everything. Discussing it, digging into the theories, watching movies. Both fiction and documentary—”
“There are no documentaries about time travel because it’s not real,” Shane grumbles in exasperation. “How many times do we have to go over this?”
“Anyway,” Beckett says, ignoring Shane. “That’s what I like. Time travel.”
He sends the beanbag sailing toward Will.
“Will Larsen. I would say time travel because I’m also into it. But maybe, like, sci-fi movies?” He throws the bag to Case.
“Case Colson,” our cocaptain says. “I like camping.”
I already know the beanbag is coming to me next. Colson even puts a little force behind it, so that it smacks into my palm.
“Luke Ryder,” I mutter. “I like history documentaries. Like, about World War Two and shit.”
“Psycho,” Trager says.
I roll my eyes at him.
And on and on it goes, the torture, until everyone has stated their name and some stupid nonsense they like. Then Nance claps her hands and declares, “That was fantastic!”
Sheldon nods in fervent agreement. “Our next exercise is called…”
“Somebody kill me now,” Trager finishes, and that gets a few laughs.
But a few laughs ain’t going to cut it. I honestly don’t know if this team is ever going to gel. How can it when one of its cocaptains is showing up at the other captain’s house and dragging his ex-girlfriend out for daring to socialize with us? We’re still the enemy to Colson, and I suspect we always will be.
So I probably shouldn’t mention that I’m seeing his ex again tomorrow night.
HOCKEY KINGS TRANSCRIPT
ORIGINAL AIR DATE: 09/23
? THE SPORTS BROADCAST NETWORK
GARRETT GRAHAM: MOVING AWAY FROM THE PROS. OUR producer, Zara, compiled some really cool facts about this upcoming college men’s season. Turns out there are ten rosters this year that feature eight or more freshman players. The honor of having the largest freshman class goes to St. Anthony’s, but Minnesota State is a close second. It should be interesting, watching all those rookies hit the ice when the season officially starts.