Ice in My Veins Read online

  Ice In My Veins

  Kelli Sullivan

  AuthorHouse™

  1663 Liberty Drive

  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.authorhouse.com

  Phone: 1-800-839-8640

  © 2010 Kelli Sullivan. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

  First published by AuthorHouse 11/18/2010

  ISBN: 978-1-4520-8532-6 (e)

  ISBN: 978-1-4520-8533-3 (sc)

  Printed in the United States of America

  This book is printed on acid-free paper.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Although some places, teams, hockey leagues etc are mentioned by name it was purely to help make the story more realistic. Although some characters are modeled after real people, the story is fictitious. All personal names used in this story are fictitious and if they resemble true people it is a coincidence. This book was written for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only. The NHL, AHL or CHL and affiliates did not endorse the use of their organizations for this publication.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in the English language or translated and reproduced in any other language or transmitted in any form or by any means electronically or mechanically including: photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior permission in writing from the author of this book.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Summary

  Chasing Dreams

  Invitations

  Heading North

  Challenges

  The Right Stuff

  Taking it Day, by Day

  Meet and Greet

  Standing My Ground

  Hitting the Ice

  Getting My Feet Wet

  Stalker

  Michigan

  Hunted like Prey

  Going Home Again

  Surprises

  Back to Reality

  Buffalo, New York

  True Meaning of Pride

  Making My Mark

  Providence, Rhode Island

  Lonely

  Pressure

  Your Life Can Change in an Instant

  Quick Reference

  Author’s Comments:

  About the Author:

  Dedication

  For all girls out there, who are afraid to follow their dreams. Never be afraid. It’s yours for the taking.

  To my beautiful niece and Goddaughter, “LALLY”, Isla Grace, and my handsome nephew, “The B.O.S” Brody Oliver. I love you both very much. You mean the world to me. Bail ó Dhia ort! Always remember “Dream your dreams with open eyes, and make them come true.” ~ T. E. Lawrence. You can have anything you wish for. You just have to work hard for it, and it will come to you.

  To the “Brat”, Brooke – Don’t let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t become what you have always wanted to be; follow those dreams. Thanks for your input and being my test reader.

  To my Godson Kyle – Always believe in yourself and you can accomplish great things.

  “Always dream and shoot higher than you know how to. Don’t bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.”

  - William Faulkner

  Summary

  When a 16 year old, small town girl, Christine Matthews, from Dryden, Michigan, gets a shot at playing semi- professional hockey on a boys hockey team she jumps at the opportunity. Follow her ups and downs as she tackles some of lives hardships, surprises, and victories as she reaches out to catch her dreams. Journey with her as she struggles through some of life’s tough situations, as well as love and loss.

  Her story is inspirational to people everywhere who feel their dreams are unreachable. It’s a story that touches hearts of all ages.

  This is a fictitious story centered around real places, teams and events.

  Chasing Dreams

  Why was I so nervous? This wasn’t a big deal. Sure, I wanted it more than anything else in the world. I shouldn’t get my hopes up at all. So many times the doors were slamming in my face. I was used to it by now. To me it had been a slow process, this dream of mine. I always kept in the back of my mind a quote I had once read, from Confucius. “It does not matter how slowly you go, so long as you do not stop”. Very wise words. I lived by them. I told myself it would be alright if it didn’t work out tonight. I would never stop. I would persevere.

  Sports was the way to get anything according to my father. He said if us kids didn’t get to university on a sports scholarship, then we probably wouldn’t be getting there at all.

  My father had gone to Michigan State on a football scholarship as a tight end. Something he reminded us daily about. I was the oldest of their kids, which meant that I had to set the example. My parents were always much harder on me than my two younger, annoying, ungrateful brothers. It was a lot to live up to.

  I loved hockey. My father was never much of a hockey fan. It was my mother, who carted me off to early morning practices, and late night games; not that she enjoyed the sport either. My father focused on my two younger brothers; Phil 15 and Tyler 13, who played for local football teams. It really aggravated me to no end. He felt they, if given the chance; could make it all the way to the NFL. Something that he had failed to do. He seemed to be living vicariously through them. He trained them every day. He even hired a health coach for them. Something else he wouldn’t do for me.

  I had to figure things out on my own. I was a girl; it didn’t really matter to him what sport I played, as long as it got me to college to find a sporty husband. That’s all he wanted. One of his favorite things to say was, “real men play sports, the rest just watch”.

  I sometimes wondered what he would do if, God forbid, either of my brothers were unable to play sports. Maybe they would feel like I did most of the time. I played sports, and it still didn’t seem to be enough for him.

  It bothered me that dad felt womans’ sports were no where near as important as a mans’. I definitely played hard; and as a Center, I was the top goal scorer in the league. This year, I was putting all my efforts into getting a try out for a Major Junior hockey team. I didn’t care what strings I had to pull to get there either.

  I had been making massive amounts of video CD’s; and sending them to all the scouts; and teams up in Canada, and across the United States. I saturated YouTube with video footage of my games. Some coach somewhere was bound to overlook the fact that I was a girl. That would show my dad! That would show them all!

  If only I could make a major junior hockey team up in Canada. Canada was where they put out some of the best players in the world. I knew I had it in me. Hockey was my passion, my dream.

  My dad and brothers were in hysterics when they found out what I was doing. It just made me more angry, and more determined. I reminded them that Manon Rheaume, in September of 1992, was strong enough when she was the first woman to play in an NHL game. I could be that strong, maybe even stronger. I was sure of it.

  “That was just a publicity stunt.” I remember my father had said snickering. “Just a way to make women feel special and sell tickets.” He was so sure of himself. “Trust me Christine, it will never happen again. Even if you got a chance to play in the Quebec Major Junior hockey league as she did, that’s all it would
ever be.” He laughed harder, along with my uncle and two brothers.

  Those words haunted me.

  I was positive that Manon had faced many major set backs, and she managed to push through them. Hell! She won gold twice in the Olympics. It’s not like she wasn’t any good. She was great! It’s just that the deck was sort of stacked against her. She had paved the way for many other girls to try their hand at boys’ hockey.

  Charline Labonté was another female goaltender, who managed to play on a guy’s team - appearing in 28 games with the Acadie-Bathurst Titans of the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League between 1999 and 2000. Then you have Hayley Wickenheiser, who was the first woman to actually score points in a mans’ professional league. If I remember correctly they called her the ‘Wayne Gretzky’ of woman’s hockey. If those girls could do it, so could I!

  There was also a big difference between Manon and I. She was a goaltender who stood about 5’6 and maybe, if she was lucky, she might have weighed 125lbs. That is extremely small, for a goalie especially. She didn’t fill the net. She was great, and she’s still playing hockey. Not for the NHL, but she’s still doing what she loves. That is what’s important.

  I was much bigger. I stood 5’9 and 170 lbs. I was solid muscle. I worked out every day for two, sometimes three hours. I had spent countless hours researching healthy eating, and weight training exercises on the internet. I knew that nothing would come to me easily. If I wanted it, I had to work for it. I was solidly determined. I was an unstoppable force. I was not only a sniper, but I could definitely hold my own in a fight, after taking three years of boxing. I knew I had to be tough if I wanted to play a sport like hockey. I focused entirely on hockey and school.

  I didn’t have much of a social life. I had a handful of close friends; but most girls couldn’t understand my drive, my ambition, my dream. Most guys thought it was hilarious that I would even consider trying.

  I will never understand why everyone believes men are better than women when it comes to athletic abilities. People forget that men have upper body strength yes; but women have much more lower body strength. Good luck to any guy who thinks that he can out skate me.

  My father said it was because I play with a bunch of girls; but guys have tried to catch me also, and I usually beat them by at least three or four seconds. That’s a big gap. He just called them a bunch of Alice and Nancy-boys; meaning that they were sissy boys. Just once I would like to prove to him that a woman can do it.

  My mother supports me as much as she can, but she really does cater to my brothers more. It has been very frustrating for me. If I had decided to be a gymnast or a figure skater, my father said he would’ve be more inclined to support me. It was fine! I would set my goals high and manage to reach them on my own.

  I decided at nine years old that it would be me against the world. I knew back then how hard it would be. I think both my parents would love me more if I were a girly girl. I was never into dressing up, or doing my hair and make up. I was a hockey girl through and through. If I was to go to the rink all made up, it would take about five seconds for my hair to go flat and me to look like a raccoon.

  It really bothered my mother that I played hockey. She wanted me to dance or model. That was just not who I was. She didn’t feel hockey was a place for girls. I didn’t consider myself beautiful or graceful. I was muscular and athletic. I was solid. I had a 4-pack, not some straight, curve-less, size zero body. I looked like a woman, not a little girl. I had a great figure. Curves and all, but you would never know it. I wore jeans and hockey jerseys; even to church. Mom would make me put on a coat or a sweater over my jerseys.

  My father would just shake his head and say. “Can’t you be a normal girl for once? Why are you always trying to prove yourself to everyone?”

  I remember when I was five years old. Mom had made me take figure skating lessons. It lasted one winter. I could never get used to it. It’s not that I wasn’t good at it. It was that it held no interest for me. For my sixth birthday she signed me up for ballet. What a joke! It was worse then the figure skating. She wanted something to balance out my love for hockey. I don’t think anything could take the place of my love for hockey. She was fighting a losing battle.

  Dad on the other hand thought it was great that I was sports oriented. He just didn’t want to be forced to go watch whatever sport I was playing. He and I butted heads daily. I was an opinionated girl - not afraid to express how I felt, or what I was thinking. That drove him up the wall, crazy. He was old fashioned when it came to women and a woman’s role in sports.

  He would never understand me. I wanted to be a Broad Street bully, like Kevin Atos and Toby Chalke. When I told my father that, he got mad. He said Toby Chalke was the dirtiest player he had ever seen. I didn’t care. Toby Chalke was my hero. I loved the fact that he was fearless out there. Sure he was a dirty son of gun, his moves on the ice were barely legal. That was what made him great! Dauntless! Not only that but every single team in the NHL had passed Toby Chalke over at the draft; one team three times, before the Philadelphia Flyers grabbed him.

  Everyone knew he was good, but they didn’t want to take a chance with him because he was a diabetic. The Philadelphia Flyers owner, called a diabetic specialist. He asked the doctor if diabetes would affect his playing.

  The doctor had explained, that it would not affect his playing; as long as he took care to maintain his diabetes. The Flyers finally took a chance on him. They excelled because of it. Yes, like Toby Chalke, I also wanted a team to take a chance on me.

  I suppose, maybe, I reminded my father of Toby, with my opinions also. Toby Chalke is not known for apologizing for anything he has ever said. I remember him taking a lot of slack for his response to Kevin Dodd sucker punching that sissy Hangus. I had to agree with his remarks. If some imbecile was calling me out, talking trash about me - saying that I should be banned from the show - I might have sucker punched him as well. Hangus was being an idiot, he deserved that punch. Then he whined to the press, until he got sympathy from everyone. What a loser thing to do!

  Not to mention, like another one of my favorite players, Kevin Atos ‘The Hammer’, I also held the record for penalty minutes in my league. The girls I played against hated to come up against me. Mostly, they would just get out of my way, or they would end up paying for getting in my way. I was a steamroller, who had amazing puck handling skills and the eye of an eagle. Coach used to refer to me as a brick wall. When some girl charged at me, I would stand on my skates, unmovable.

  When I got a call from a CHL scout, I almost dropped the phone. He wanted to come watch me play. He was in town scouting another player, and thought he would come check me out while he was there. I didn’t tell my friends or family. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, or get my hopes up. It was last December; and in that game, I got 5 goals and 3 assists. No one in my league could even compare to my game stats.

  He was back in town again tonight. He informed me he was here to watch. Today we were playing for the Girls’ U17, Tier 1 State Championship . We were 3-0 and had home ice advantage. We had gone undefeated all season and all through the playoffs. We were going to annihilate the Bears - hands down! That’s the thing. I felt I was too good of a player to be playing woman’s hockey. I needed to step it up a few levels and play with the guys. I hoped that this scout would put in a good word for me.

  Mom dropped me off at the rink early. She told me that she would try to make it back to see the end of my game. That was if she could sneak away from Phil’s basketball game at the town rec center. Same old, same old. I knew I would end up waiting out front after my game for her as usual.

  I didn’t mind though. I had stopped letting that stuff get to me a few years earlier. Tonight it would be up to me to make my dreams come true. I needed to focus. When Coach pulled me aside before the game, away from the other girls, he happily told me I had a visitor. I walked out of the dressing room and shook hands with Pete Masen. He was a thin, tall man in his early
40’s.

  “Thanks for coming by Mr. Masen.” I smiled.

  “No problem, I was surprisingly impressed with the last game of yours I watched. I don’t want to make you nervous Christine. I wanted to let you to know, that Ben Killerman will be in the stands tonight with me. He might like what he sees. If so, then he will want to meet with you after the game,” Pete explained.

  “Ben Killerman!” I was in shock. “Wow, how did that happen?”

  “I showed your tapes around to many of the coaches in the CHL. He was the only one who seemed to show any interest. No one wants to have to deal with the politics of even considering having a girl play on their hockey team. It’s too much of a headache for them.” He went on to say, “Ben has been around for many years. He doesn’t care about politics anymore. To him it’s about finding the players that fit, and from what he saw of your tapes. He wanted to see more.”

  “Thanks Mr. Masen.” I acknowledged the extra effort he put in for me. “For taking a chance with me, and showing my tapes around. I am sure most coaches didn’t want to give them the time of day. I just want you to know that I appreciate what you have done for me, even if it doesn’t work out.” I thanked him with my hand out to shake his.

  “Like I said before Christine. It’s up to you to show him what you’ve got. You need to just be yourself out there, and with him. I believe you do have the talent to at least get you a try out for a major junior hockey team.” He smiled wide as he shook my hand. Then, as he was walking away, he said “Good luck out there tonight Christine.”

  “Thanks Mr. Masen.” I responded. I smiled up at Coach and he padded me on the back.

  I skated out onto the ice for the national anthem. I stood there proudly, starring at the flag. Hmm, it would be weird to play for a Canadian team and hear their anthem played instead of ours. I scanned the fans in the stands wondering how different they would be. I would be proud to play for whatever country wanted me. Right now it was a US Tier 1 Girls team, but maybe by tonight it would be a Canadian Major Junior team.