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    Head in the Game
    Head in the Game
    Head in the Game
    Ebook86 pages1 hour

    Head in the Game

    By Jeff Adams

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    About this ebook

    After a disastrous breakup, pro hockey defenseman Roger Jacobson's game is slipping. With his contract up for renewal, he has to do something quick because his fourteen-year career is on the line. Roger returns to his hometown to work with his old coach and help run the summer hockey camp. But Dylan Barker, a handsome graduate student and the coach's son, proves to be a romantic distraction that Roger couldn't have anticipated.

     

    Can Roger's trip home fix his game and mend his broken spirit?

     

    Head in the Game is an m/m hockey romance. It originally appeared in the Changing on the Fly: The Second Period anthology.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBig Gay Media
    Release dateJan 24, 2019
    ISBN9781386261629
    Head in the Game
    Author

    Jeff Adams

    Jeff Adams is Professor of Education at the University of Chester, and the Principal Editor of International Journal of Art & Design Education, as well as Programme Leader of the Centre for Research in Education, Creative and Arts through Practice.

    Read more from Jeff Adams

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      Book preview

      Head in the Game - Jeff Adams

      One

      Roger Jacobson wasn’t sure what to feel as he pulled into the parking lot at his old rink. There was the usual excitement about being there, but there was trepidation too. He’d grown up in La Crosse, Wisconsin, but it wasn’t home anymore. His parents had moved to Texas more than a decade ago. For Roger, home was in D.C., but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to stay there. La Crosse, however, was the right place to be for the summer.

      Coach Barker was the one choice to get him whipped into shape. Nearly twenty years ago, Coach B, as his players called him, took an angry young man who liked to play hockey and turned him into a solid defenseman. By his junior year on the Logan High Panthers, Roger was a reliable D-man. He protected his goalie. He excelled at stripping the puck off incoming forwards. He drew penalties only when necessary and wouldn’t allow himself to be goaded into a fight. He played his way to a scholarship at the University of Wisconsin and was then drafted by the NHL after his sophomore year.

      Roger had kept in touch with Coach B over the years. He returned to La Crosse often to lend his expertise. He’d work with the high school team when there was some time off in the schedule. Coaching Coach B’s summer camp was also something he did as often as he could. This summer was different: Roger needed coaching too.

      The late January call to Coach B had gone well.

      Jacobson, great to hear from you son, Coach B had said.

      He was always Jacobson. Just like Coach B was always that and never Steven, even though Roger had permission to call him that.

      Coach B. Hope everything’s good. Looks like the team is having a stellar season.

      Yeah. They’ve made a great comeback from last year’s rebuild. We getting to see you at camp this summer? I’m hoping that’s at least part of why you called.

      Yes, sir. If you’ll have me.

      What kind of talk is that? Of course we’ll have you.

      Think you can work with me too?

      Coach B was uncharacteristically quiet. Your coaches going to be okay with someone else guiding you?

      I hope so. I… Roger had hesitated, not knowing what he’d wanted to say. My game’s off. Way off.

      I know. Coach had been quiet, like he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it either. I’ve seen it over the past year or so.

      That long? Roger had suspected that was the case, but had hoped he was wrong. I wish you’d told me.

      I probably should’ve. Wasn’t sure it was my place. Get yourself up here and be in my office first thing on July fifteenth.

      Yes, sir.

      And here he was at a few minutes before eight in the morning. He’d arrived the previous afternoon and settled into the studio apartment he’d rented for the six-week term. Coach B always offered to put him up, but he refused to be an inconvenience to him or Gabriela. They’d always been good to him, and he’d never wanted to push.

      Roger looked at the building, which had opened another rink last fall. He’d spent so much time here as a kid, back when it’d been a single rink facility. It was better than being at home where he always struggled to rise to the bar his dad set for him. No matter what, he never accomplished enough.

      You scored, but you should’ve stopped two other goals.

      An A? Too bad it wasn’t an A plus.

      You won the Norris Trophy? Your team should’ve won the Stanley Cup.

      Why aren’t you a dad yet?

      What’d you do to get traded? Did you screw up?

      Coach B, though, cut through all that. He’d molded Roger into the hockey player and, in many ways, the man he’d become. Something was missing, though. His time in Washington wasn’t great. He’d been traded to Washington from Phoenix four years ago. When the trade had gone through, it seemed like it was going to be a fresh start. All that happened, however, was that he was more miserable.

      This past season, it was bad, and he couldn’t shake it. He was moody, a pissy teammate, and, more and more, a sloppy player. He knew the team was considering not re-signing him. And if Coach B could see it, watching from afar, it was a wonder he hadn’t been sent down to Hershey or North Charleston.

      From the driver’s seat, Roger watched as kids arrived with parents and some teens parked their own cars. Taking a deep breath, he got out and went around back to get his gear from the trunk.

      He stared at the rink and the people walking inside

      Come on, Jacobson, Coach B is waiting, Roger muttered under his breath as he slammed the trunk closed. He shouldn’t be having such a hard time.

      Once he was in the lobby, the smell of the rink overtook him. That unmistakable aroma made up of the scent of the ice, the gear, and everything else. Unlike any other rink though, this one made Roger feel at home. For the first time in—he couldn’t remember how long—he smiled.

      Panthers’ red and black colors were everywhere. This was Logan High’s home rink, although other teams routinely played here as well. The Panthers, however, dominated everything.

      Roger headed to Coach’s office, which was tucked into a corner of the lobby. As he walked by a bench where two teenaged boys were tightening skate laces, they stopped him.

      No way! You’re Roger Jacobson. Are you here to coach?

      I am.

      That’s awesome. I’ve been following your career since— The boy stopped talking fast and seemed to be counting. Well, since forever. I loved watching you in Phoenix. I’ve recorded some of your games so I can try and learn to steal the puck like you do.

      I’ll try to teach you.

      That’d be epic. The boy stood suddenly. I’m Troy Masterson. This is my friend Carson. We’re a D pair for the Panthers.

      Nice to meet you. Roger

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