All in on You

Chapter Twenty-Three

I didn't appreciate it at the time, but I sure am grateful now for those ice skating lessons my parents signed me up for when I was just a little thing.

Because my skill level is already pretty embarrassing and I don't want to think about how much worse it would have been sans lessons. Actually, I probably wouldn't even be on the ice right now.

The almost famous outdoor rink in the heart of downtown Toronto is nearly full. Half of the people skating around get paid a hefty chunk of change to play hockey professionally, and the other half—to put it mildly—don't. That latter group is made up of players' better halves and their children, along with some Saints employees. And that includes me.

Whenever people say that they love winter, days like today must be what they're referring to. Don't get me wrong, it's cold. In fact, it's so cold that my nipples could probably cut glass if I wasn't dressed in all these layers. But it's blindingly sunny and there's hope in the air. It's so bright out it's like the city of Toronto has never known a dark day.

That's probably why the mood here on this morning in early March is so jovial. The players with small kids are skating around with their bundles of joy in the air, or right at their heels, if the kids are old enough to skate on their own. Some of the young guys, like Keith, are holding hands with their girlfriends. Poor Scar playfully slaps Keith on the shoulder every time he tries to skate circles around her, showing off and causing her to teeter on her skates. And the few single guys are keeping each other company, but there's one who's sticking closest to me. (Because to this crowd, single is how they know him.) Even Adam and Robert are here with their families. Robert has three young teenagers, and I almost did a double take when I saw his wife. She had sophisticated 90s model vibes. I haven't had a chance to meet her yet, but I did meet Adam's wife, Shannon, and their son and daughter, both under four years old. Super cute.

Literally every single person on the ice is smiling. And like I said, it must be due to the hefty dose of Vitamin D we're all getting. Or because the players have their loved ones here, or because people are excited for the Gala tonight. What I know for sure is that the mood is not because of how the Saints played this week.

If that was the case, we'd all be in the fetal position on the cold hard ice.

The Saints had two away games this week and lost both. Teams lose. Even the teams with the best record have lost some games. But it's the way the Saints lose the games that grind the gears of the players, coaching staff, management, fans... me. Their first game against New York, they were up by three goals halfway through the game only to lose by one. To boot, they gave up the winning goal in the final minute of the third period. They flipped the script for the game in Boston. They were the ones down by three—in the first 12 minutes of the game—and went on to lose 5 to 1. Oof.

When the camera panned to the press box at the end of the Boston game, Robert looked eerily calm but Adam seemed a few seconds away from blowing a gasket. On the bench, the players were despondent. Forgetting the pissed off expression on Angelo's face as he seethed on the bench isn't something I'll be doing any time soon.

It sucked to watch the Saints play like crap. They're better than that. But worse, I felt like I was failing; like I wasn't doing my job. We're supposed to be rewriting the narrative. The Saints of seasons past are the ones who played like this; not these guys. A sick feeling settled in my throat as I read all the stupid headlines about the 'Same Old Saints.' One commentator had even went as far to say that the Saints have demons. How ironic. And accurate.

When I met with Dr. Wennberg the following day, I told her how I felt.

"Harlow," she had said. "You're a high achiever, and I know setbacks piss you off. That's partly what makes you a high achiever. But you weren't the one on the ice. You weren't the one giving up your defensive coverage or letting in soft goals or failing to clear the puck on the penalty kill."