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They spring the news at the end of the first day of Western Hope or whatever dumb name they’re calling this hockey camp. It’s been kind of a waste of a day. They haven’t touched the ice or the gym at all, apparently just wearing the t-shirts and shorts provided for branding reasons, or maybe to make them look more like a team than a collection of dudes that have nothing in common but not sucking at hockey.
They focused on that team crap all day, making them do dumb exercises that feel more elementary school than hockey camp. The most Jared’s sweat in his brand new gear was worrying that after all the bonding shit they’ve been doing, trust falls would be coming next. Jared is not a trust fall kind of guy.
“We’re going to have a special guest with us starting tomorrow,” their coach Evanson says after they’ve changed back into street clothes. Jared figures it’ll be some washed-up guy who played a season or two in the NHL or something, or maybe someone who works for one the companies sponsoring the camp that they all have to applaud wildly on cue. “Any Flames fans in here?”
More than a few hands go up, Jared’s included. Not surprising, considering they’re in Calgary, though kind of a stupid question, because this camp’s got guys from BC to Manitoba, and Jared can actually feel squinted eyes from dudes who probably rep Canucks or Oilers or Jets jerseys, or maybe some other team entirely. Way to undo all the bonding attempts they wasted all day on. It’s stupid, because in a couple years anyone who makes the NHL only has a one in thirty chance to continue repping that jersey, but whatever. Your home team’s your home team.
“I won’t keep you in suspense,” Evanson says, after he spends a good ten seconds doing exactly that. “Bryce Marcus will be assisting for the duration of camp.”
Jared definitely knows who this guy is. Hell, Jared’s seen him before, on the ice and in his own locker room when Marcus and a teammate came in to congratulate the Hitmen on their fifth straight win. And yeah, technically Marcus has only played two seasons in the NHL, but that’s the only thing Jared got right, because Marcus isn’t washed up. At all.
There are excited murmurs from the guys, and not just the ones who outed themselves as Flames fans, because Bryce Marcus is a big fucking deal. Or like. Capital letters are required: Bryce Marcus is a Big Fucking Deal.
Jared’s not going to lie — he’s more than a little excited now. He’s been a Flames fan for basically his whole life, has pictures of him in freaking Flames onesies to prove it, though obviously that was his parents’ choice, not his. Marcus is supposed to be that kind of franchise player that can turn everything around for them, bring them back to the glory they had in the nineties, the glory they haven’t had since before Jared was born. They’ve made the playoffs a handful of times since, but never further than the second round, and miss post-season more than they make it, especially lately. Frankly — and it hurts to say this — the Flames kind of suck. Marcus is supposed to change that, and Jared’s wary of this idea of one player single-handedly changing everything, but it’s not like it hasn’t happened before.
And he’s good. He’s really good, great even, almost won the Calder his first year, only falling off because he missed a good six weeks of the season with a fucked up ankle. He’s really, really good. Except that’s not all the media says about him, because Marcus is as big a fuck up off the ice as he is a force on it.
He got a one-two punch of arrests recently, once for assaulting an Oilers fan, which Jared thought was kind of funny, if really stupid, and then just a couple weeks ago a DUI that wasn’t funny at all and was even more stupid. That’s not even getting into some of the rumours that have been going around or the fact that his temper’s already common knowledge on the ice. At least half the penalties Marcus takes — and he takes way too many — are stupid shit because his opponents already know how easy it is to goad him into doing exactly that kind of stupid shit.
He’s good, but he’s kind of a loose cannon, and that’s possibly understating the case.
Still, Jared’s excited despite himself. So Marcus is a mess, whatever, he’s still awesome at hockey, and if he can pass on even a little of that, that’d be awesome.
*
Jared’s excitement lasts maybe twenty minutes into their first skate, tops.
Marcus really clearly does not want to be here. He shows up late, when they’re already on the ice. At least Jared’s pretty sure he’s late, because Evanson looks pissed about getting interrupted halfway into separating them into squads for a scrimmage to ‘see what you guys can do’. He keeps going, ignoring Marcus a few feet back from him, then introduces Marcus when he’s done. Marcus mumbles something Jared can’t catch, gives a half-assed wave, and then does fuck all for the rest of the day.
Jared’s not exaggerating here. Marcus stands on the bench near Evanson for the scrimmage, but he doesn’t say anything, not to Evanson, who’s busy actually telling them shit, or to any of them, even though at least half of them keep looking over at him. After the scrimmage they do a few drills, again clearly meant to help Evanson gauge where they’re all at — shooting, speed, accuracy — and Marcus just stands there being useless the entire time.
It’d be one thing if he was just being a glorified pylon, but he isn’t. He’s not just standing there, he’s sulking, hanging around at the edge of whatever the action is with his arms crossed and this petulant look on his face that makes him look like Jared’s thirteen year old sister, which is not a flattering comparison. She’s been basically unbearable since puberty hit.
It wouldn’t be so bad if he was just a useless coach. Jared’s had a few of those before, though he’s had way more great ones, and he knows how to deal with them. But it’s different, having this hovering ball of mope hang over them. Even the dudes who were the most excited, the ones who kept approaching Marcus on day one have given up by day three, give Marcus the same berth everyone else does. Shit’s toxic.
Jared kind of thought the media was making too much of him — not the criminal stuff, that was obviously worth kicking up a stink — but rumours of him dragging the mood down in the locker room, rumours that none of the Flames were super enthused to have him there, game-winner or no. He thought it was just bitter gossip. He’s starting to believe it now, though. Guy broods more than Angel, and doesn’t have the looks to pull it off, either. Not that he’s —
Anyway, Evanson’s surprise has thus far been more of a disappointment than the most washed up player alive could have been, because at least they might actually share some of their NHL experience. Everything here is kind of a disappointment. Jared didn’t come in knowing any of the guys except from across the ice, and most of them are clearly idiots. Evanson knows what he’s doing, but with close to fifty of them he can’t exactly give a lot of one-on-one advice. He’s got assistants to do that, who are sort of a mixed bag — Tracy’s okay, Doug the jury’s out on, Sam is a hack. Jared thinks Marcus was supposed to be one of them, but since he’s doing fuck all, Jared’s not going to count him.
A month. Jared has a month of this. His parents thought it was such an honour, him getting tapped for it, and even better, getting tapped for free. It’s not like he could say no to that, free coaching, not with the kind of money his parents shelled out to get him this far. It’d be insanely ungrateful. And he gets to go home at the end of the day too, unlike most of them, so he isn’t even stuck away from family or friends at this bullshit camp. Still, it basically sucks.
One of the only bright spots so far has been Rafael Sanchez, who seems like the only halfway cool dude in the whole group. Halfway cool because he’s not actually cool, kind of shy and awkward off the ice. Definitely only off the ice, though. Jared faced off against him a few times last season, and he’s brutal to play against, fast as hell and totally merciless. Total snipe show.
Probably more than half the dudes here are going to be making the draft in the next couple years, since they’re Western Hopes or whatever, but Jared has a feeling that unlike the rest of them Raf’s going to be going first round. Has a feeling Raf Sanchez is a name that commentators are going to be mentioning a lot in the next few years. That’s a good friend to have, though Jared’s pretty sure he’d be sticking by him even if he was the worst guy there, just because he’s not an idiot like most guys their age are. And obviously that idiocy doesn’t wear off any time soon, judging by Marcus. Maybe it’s a hockey player in general thing.
Marcus is sulking by the boards again. It’s less and less endearing each time he does it, and it wasn’t endearing to start with.
“I don’t know what the point of him hanging around is if he’s just going to stand around pouting,” Jared says.
“Maybe he’s just nervous,” Raf says. “It’s probably pretty intimidating, all these guys looking up to you and expecting you to teach them if you don’t have any experience doing that. I’d be freaked out too.”
“You are too nice for your own good, Sanchez,” Jared says.
Raf smiles a little, like he’s got a private joke with himself. “Not really,” he says.
“Well, nicer than me at least,” Jared says, then, “The guy’s a douche.”
Raf shrugs a little, and Jared doesn’t know the guy super well, but he thinks that might be agreement.
*
Jared doesn’t know if it’s a coincidence or not that the first time Marcus actually does anything it’s about two seconds after Evanson blows up at him, but if he had to put money on it, he’d say not. Jared’s too far away to hear what Evanson’s saying but close enough to hear how sharp his tone is, and he’s not the only one paying attention to Evanson saying whatever it is to Marcus while Marcus gets more and more sullen. Money on the table again, Jared’s going to bet Evanson’s finally calling him on the whole useless sulky brat shit. Finally. Only took half a week.
Jared goes back to stretching as soon as that conversation breaks up, because he doesn’t really want to get caught being nosy, so unfortunately it’s a total surprise that Marcus has decided to focus on him right up until Marcus is towering over where Jared’s stretching on the ice.
“You’re going to pull something if you keep doing that,” Marcus says. Jared’s pretty sure that’s the first thing Marcus has said since whatever he muttered to the group his first morning, maybe with the exception of something to brush off the Flames fanboys as effectively as he did. And it’s as stupid, because Jared’s stretch is straight up textbook.
“Weirdly, I’m going to take the advice of every coach I’ve ever had over some asshole who blew 0.15 then yelled at the cop,” Jared says. “No offence.”
“Fine, tear your fucking groin,” Marcus snaps. “See if I give a shit, Masters.”
Jared honestly wishes Raf had been right about Marcus. Jared usually hates being wrong, but this time being right’s a disappointment. He doesn’t know why: it’s not like he’s grown up idolizing Marcus or something, or even expected anything from him as a Flames fan other than not being shit on the ice, which he isn’t, but. Jared doesn’t know. It’s kind of a shame someone that talented is that big a douche.
“It’s Matheson,” Jared says, though it’s not like it matters, or like Marcus isn’t going to forget all over again. “And thanks for settling a bet.”
“What bet?” Marcus asks.
“Sanchez said you couldn’t possibly be as big of a douche as you looked like,” Jared says. Which isn’t exactly what Raf said, but whatever. Close enough. “He owes me twenty.”
Also not true, but it makes Marcus bristle as much as Jared feels like bristling himself, his face going blotchy and red.
He punched an Oilers fan, Jared remembers, and wonders if ‘Bryce Marcus punches Calgary Hitman player Jared Matheson in summer conditioning camp’ is going to be Marcus’ next embarrassing headline. Not punchy enough, probably.
Hah.
Punchy.
Jared really hopes he isn’t about to be punched.
“You have a right to your opinion,” Marcus says instead, in a tone that sounds like ‘go fuck yourself’. Still, it’s way nicer than Jared expected, and he’s surprised right up until he sees Evanson standing within hearing distance, eyes narrow and face flat, looking like he’s about to step in. Guess Jared’s not the only one who knows about Marcus’ anger management skills, or lack thereof. “I hope I can change your mind.”
“Not likely,” Jared snorts. “But sure.”
As soon as Marcus skates off, right back into the sulky snit he’s been in since the start, Evanson skates over to Jared.
“Talk for a minute?” Evanson asks, looking uncomfortable that he has to talk about something non-hockey related. He’s cool telling them what to do on the ice, but he was squirming practically as much as Jared during the stupid ‘get to know each other’ thing, like he found it torturous. Jared’s liked him from the get-go.
“Sure,” Jared says, getting up, because it’s not like he has much of a choice.
“Matheson,” he says, sounding vaguely chiding. If Jared gets in trouble for being insubordinate or whatever when Marcus isn’t even half-assing his job as a coach, Jared’s going to be pissed. “You’re a local boy, right?”
Jared frowns. That’s not what he was expecting to be asked. “Yeah,” he says.
“Hear some of the stories about Marcus?” Evanson asks. “Off the ice, I mean?”
“Kind of hard not to,” Jared says.
“You get what I’m saying here?” Evanson asks.
“Don’t diss the dude who punches Oilers fans and yells at cops?” Jared says.
Evanson smiles faintly. Jared thinks it’s the first time he’s seen him smile. “Just maybe keep your distance,” he says.
“That’s not going to be a problem,” Jared says. “At all.”
“Good man,” Evanson says, patting him on the back and skating off just in time for Jared to catch Marcus glaring at him like he thinks he can murder him with his eyes alone.
Jared checks to see if any of the actual coaches are looking his way. They aren’t, so he removes his glove, gives Marcus the finger. Marcus looks surprised for a moment, like he didn’t think Jared had the balls or something, then, instead of glaring more, he suddenly smiles.
Jared has a very, very bad feeling about this.