"Come back soon, Adam. You've been gone far too long." Becky Orion gave him a grin, a smile that was composed entirely of sincerity and good- nature.
Becky Orion was Coach's daughter, a sweet girl who was only a couple years younger than the Ducks. Becky was involved in a horrible car accident several years back that kept her wheelchair-bound. Adam used to visit Becky all the time, but couldn't remember the last time he had been around. In fact, Adam was only there today because Coach Orion wanted to see him. However, there was no trace of hurt or bitterness in Becky's face. She just was happy to see him. Adam thought about all the hardships that Becky had been through over the years. The accident. The painful rehabilitations. Knowing that she'd probably be disabled for the rest of her life. The subtle stares of pity people gave her. And still, Becky was probably the most optimistic and cheerful person Adam knew. Adam really wished he could be more like her—it would have saved him a lot of heartbreak and pain.
"Adam," Coach Orion appeared, entering the living room from the kitchen, "You feel like taking a walk?"
Adam had no idea what Coach wanted to see him about and was surprised at his request. "Sure, Coach. I'm up for a walk."
Coach Orion bid goodbye lovingly to Becky, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back in an hour. My phone is on if you need anything. I love you." Adam watched with a tinge of jealousy, thinking back to his last moments with his father.
Adam and Coach Orion walked side by side through the beautiful suburban neighborhood in silence.
"Adam, I wanted to give you the news today before the Associated Press wrote about it. The All-America committee is expected to announce Kent Smith as the All-America National Player of the Year. However, you will be listed on the first-team roster again. So, I'm sorry...but congratulations, too."
As much as Adam thought he didn't care about the award, losing it disappointed him more than he thought it would. Deep down, Adam realized how much he really wanted to be Player of the Year.
To Adam's surprise, Coach Orion continued. "There was another thing I wanted to tell you. I won't be returning next year to Eden Hall. There is a physical therapist in Phoenix who I think will really help Becky. As my captain, I wanted you to be the first to know. I didn't want to leave without telling you how much it meant to me to be your coach, Adam. You've been blessed with incredible talent, and to watch you play is a thing of beauty. However, to watch you work on your game, develop your skills—that was the real inspiration. It really is amazing when your best player is the hardest-working person on your team. You've provided a fantastic example for your teammates. In fact, yesterday at practice I saw you showing Connie how to get more velocity on her slap shot while in motion. Then she stayed behind an hour after everyone left to work on it. They all really respect you, as do I."
Adam was speechless. "Wow. I didn't even realize that Connie had done that." Adam had taken it for granted the times he gave advice to his teammates or showed them how to do something. It made Adam swell with pride knowing that he contributed to their development. Adam thought about the time he spent with Goldberg this summer, improving his skating movement. Connie and her slap shot. He worked extensively with Averman and face-offs. Adam had left his own distinct mark in the playing styles of most of his teammates. Adam realized that even after he was gone, his legacy would still live on in his teammates. Suddenly the disappointment from not winning Player of the Year receded. Coach Orion had made him see that Adam had all that he could ask for.
While Adam was there with Coach Orion, Adam took the opportunity to ask him a question that had always nagged in his mind. "Coach...Did you ever regret leaving the NHL?"
Coach Orion looked solemn. "You know, I loved hockey more than anything, Adam. So I thought. When Becky got into her car accident, I was devastated. I remember those nights waiting in the hospital room, watching Becky with all those tubes sticking out of her—and I realized that Becky was the only person I had left. The thought of losing her was the one thing that could make me walk away from hockey. I've never regretted it. Things don't always go as expected—but that's not necessarily a bad thing. After everything we've been through, Becky and I are closer than ever. I wouldn't trade that for anything. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the luckiest man alive."
He and Adam continued walking, in silence. After half an hour, they found themselves on the Orions' porch.
"Thanks, Coach." Orion nodded and went inside his home, bidding Adam goodbye. Adam stood for a moment at the closed door. "For everything."
Becky Orion was Coach's daughter, a sweet girl who was only a couple years younger than the Ducks. Becky was involved in a horrible car accident several years back that kept her wheelchair-bound. Adam used to visit Becky all the time, but couldn't remember the last time he had been around. In fact, Adam was only there today because Coach Orion wanted to see him. However, there was no trace of hurt or bitterness in Becky's face. She just was happy to see him. Adam thought about all the hardships that Becky had been through over the years. The accident. The painful rehabilitations. Knowing that she'd probably be disabled for the rest of her life. The subtle stares of pity people gave her. And still, Becky was probably the most optimistic and cheerful person Adam knew. Adam really wished he could be more like her—it would have saved him a lot of heartbreak and pain.
"Adam," Coach Orion appeared, entering the living room from the kitchen, "You feel like taking a walk?"
Adam had no idea what Coach wanted to see him about and was surprised at his request. "Sure, Coach. I'm up for a walk."
Coach Orion bid goodbye lovingly to Becky, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back in an hour. My phone is on if you need anything. I love you." Adam watched with a tinge of jealousy, thinking back to his last moments with his father.
Adam and Coach Orion walked side by side through the beautiful suburban neighborhood in silence.
"Adam, I wanted to give you the news today before the Associated Press wrote about it. The All-America committee is expected to announce Kent Smith as the All-America National Player of the Year. However, you will be listed on the first-team roster again. So, I'm sorry...but congratulations, too."
As much as Adam thought he didn't care about the award, losing it disappointed him more than he thought it would. Deep down, Adam realized how much he really wanted to be Player of the Year.
To Adam's surprise, Coach Orion continued. "There was another thing I wanted to tell you. I won't be returning next year to Eden Hall. There is a physical therapist in Phoenix who I think will really help Becky. As my captain, I wanted you to be the first to know. I didn't want to leave without telling you how much it meant to me to be your coach, Adam. You've been blessed with incredible talent, and to watch you play is a thing of beauty. However, to watch you work on your game, develop your skills—that was the real inspiration. It really is amazing when your best player is the hardest-working person on your team. You've provided a fantastic example for your teammates. In fact, yesterday at practice I saw you showing Connie how to get more velocity on her slap shot while in motion. Then she stayed behind an hour after everyone left to work on it. They all really respect you, as do I."
Adam was speechless. "Wow. I didn't even realize that Connie had done that." Adam had taken it for granted the times he gave advice to his teammates or showed them how to do something. It made Adam swell with pride knowing that he contributed to their development. Adam thought about the time he spent with Goldberg this summer, improving his skating movement. Connie and her slap shot. He worked extensively with Averman and face-offs. Adam had left his own distinct mark in the playing styles of most of his teammates. Adam realized that even after he was gone, his legacy would still live on in his teammates. Suddenly the disappointment from not winning Player of the Year receded. Coach Orion had made him see that Adam had all that he could ask for.
While Adam was there with Coach Orion, Adam took the opportunity to ask him a question that had always nagged in his mind. "Coach...Did you ever regret leaving the NHL?"
Coach Orion looked solemn. "You know, I loved hockey more than anything, Adam. So I thought. When Becky got into her car accident, I was devastated. I remember those nights waiting in the hospital room, watching Becky with all those tubes sticking out of her—and I realized that Becky was the only person I had left. The thought of losing her was the one thing that could make me walk away from hockey. I've never regretted it. Things don't always go as expected—but that's not necessarily a bad thing. After everything we've been through, Becky and I are closer than ever. I wouldn't trade that for anything. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the luckiest man alive."
He and Adam continued walking, in silence. After half an hour, they found themselves on the Orions' porch.
"Thanks, Coach." Orion nodded and went inside his home, bidding Adam goodbye. Adam stood for a moment at the closed door. "For everything."