Game Misconduct

I saw Jack raise his stick with both hands above his head. I closed my eyes and looked away only to hear the crowd react and the whistle of the referee blow. To this day I still don’t know whether Jack followed through or not, but the referee stood tall, but both hands on his hips, and pointed to the outside of the rink.
Game misconduct, I thought. I looked over at John, who was looking back, and he nodded slightly. I fumbled for my keys in my pocket as I opened up the player gate. Jack was already on the opposite end of the player rink struggling furiously to open the gate to the dressing rooms and spectator area.
As I left the bench, I looked for a way to walk around the rink as opposed to on it. I caught myself gazing around behind our net when I heard an inaudible shouting from the spectator area. Jack’s dad had made his way to the gate and was yelling at him. I could only make out certain things he was saying through his slurred speech, but what I did hear was entirely unexpected. “Disgrace to… Should know better… Can’t believe…. Worthless...”
Before I could make it all the way over, Jack, shoulders now slumped, skated right past me, straight back to the bench from where I had just left. The breeze sent a shiver up my spine even though I was in a jacket, and the fog from my breath reminded me how cold the rink really was. In the heat of a game, you forget things like that.
Everyone was now confused as to what just happened, but I made my way back to the bench anyway, and the walk back was a lot shorter than the walk over, seeing as I had not made it far from the bench. When I arrived, Jack looked at me with glossy eyes, “I won’t go alone,” he said, “I’m scared to go alone.” To my surprise, the referee was beside me. He stated, “I’ll escort you,” sounding as if he was thinking aloud rather than making an offer. I made eye contact with him, his look of confusion was emanating how I felt, whether I showed it or not.
Jack rose and brushed past both of us, but skated as fast as I could walk. We made it over slowly, one small, short step at a time. Jack’s dad was twenty feet to my left, staring with eyes of fire and passion. The referee was not kidding when he said he would escort me, because he stayed by my side until I unlocked the dressing room door. “Are you alright from here?” he asked, glancing over at Jack’s dad.
“Yeah, sure.” I managed to sputter out.
“Okay. Thanks.” He said as Jack entered the dressing room and he turned away.
I walked in to make sure Jack would be alright by himself. “Lock the door!” he said as if he were announcing it. “I said lock the door!”
I turned to close and lock the door just in time to see Jack’s dad start pacing towards the door, chest high and head forward. I realized he was the bull, and I was holding the red fabric.
What happens next I still debate. I locked the door.
There was a thud on the door. The bull had hit the metal. Some more inaudible speech was coming from the other side, then a polite knock.
Thud thud thud. Each thud my heart skipped a beat. Then silence. I spun to check on Jack. This ordeal was more stressful and embarrassing to him than it was to me. The smell of sweat was pungent, only to be enhanced by the damp air in the room. I rounded the concrete barricade to find Jack sitting. Thin glass lines were on each cheek under his eye. I managed to sit down on a bench, however we didn’t make eye contact; we were both looking at the black floor. Jack started to unstrap his Velcro. Two minutes seemed like two hours, all of which not a word was spoken, then, thud thud thud. Again my heard skipped three beats.
I picked up a towel to dry my hands, even though they never touched the ice. I wiped my brow and felt another chill up my spine. What will my mother think? I am doing what I believe is right, but am I on the wrong side of the door? Should I be out there explaining myself to this bull? Or did I make the right choice by sitting in here? I am more than just a coach, I am a player too. A goalie to be specific, and goalies make weird decisions, but I hold this power.
Thud Thud Thud.
Again? Has time gone by that quickly? What if people think I am abusing this power? The unthinkable. No, I’m seventeen from a reputable name, why would people think I would do that? “You know what you did.” I found myself saying, “I don’t have to go through what happened, but I can’t answer for you either. You know what’s beyond that door?” Jack simply nodded in agreement. “Well then, you made the choice, and unfortunately, you have to live with the consequences.” He just looked at me with a blank stare and continued packing his bag.
There was a fumbling of metal at the door. It sounded like a key. What?! Impossible! I have the key here, who else has the key? The door opened a crack to reveal a gentleman in a plain blue hat, jeans, and a winter coat. He looked through the crack to see me sitting on the bench. “Here you go.” he said, blatantly unaware of the situation he was now involved in. It was a forced cheerfulness in his voice that told me the bull was waiting for me. I stepped up to explain, but my legs were cement, my balance was faulty, and my mind was racing. By the time I had reached the door, the man had stepped aside to reveal the bull. I saw the fire in his eyes. They met my eyes of ice through the crack in the door, and I pressed up against it to provide resistance, however this time, the fire won. I did not provide much resistance, if any, because the lock would have to be opened eventually so the players could come in and undress anyway. The bull entered the room, and another mind battle would begin. He blew past me towards his now dressed son, and began his speech. “I saw what you did! Do you think it was right?! I can’t believe what you did!”
“Bu-.”
“No buts! You know better than that! I want you to get in the car and wait!”
“What about my te-“
“Just get in the damn car!” And then he turned to me. “As for you, how dare you lock me from my own son!” I opened my mouth to speak. “Don’t say a f—ing thing!” he stated. We stood there face to face. Fire met by ice. You son of a b--! Who do you think you are? He knows what he did, he does not need you to make it worse. Just leave the room and we won’t have any issues. He brushed past me and out the door and was to be followed by Jack a few moments later. He walked past with his head down in silence. Had I failed him? I did what I could, what else could I have done?
The buzzer rang for the end of the third period and the players started to trickle off the ice. They moved into the dressing room asking all sorts of questions. “What happened?”
“Is Jack okay?”
“What did he do?”
I refused to tell them, out of respect of Jack’s privacy. After the post-game talk, John came out and asked what had happened. I gave him a description of the events only to receive a look of acknowledgement. “Well, I wasn’t there, so I can’t come to any conclusions, but you know what happened. Just remember what liability you have.” He left it at that, and said no more.
I walked out to my car at got inside. The rain tapping against the window and roof gave me a calming sensation. I took a deep breath, turned the key, and moved on with my life.