Descent into Ruin: Day 2

Word Count: 12,265

Summary of Events:

Chalmers went early on the second day of camp to work with Coach Seaborn, which he found a helpful and productive time, before seeking out the general manager, only to find he was out of town for his daughter's wedding. While he waited for the general manager to return, Chalmers thought about, wrote out, and rehearsed what he would say, before finally he was told that the general manager, Mr. Cragg, had returned from the wedding. He then sought out Mr. Cragg and shared his concerns . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Okay,” Mr. Cragg said. “What sort of things was he saying?”

“Well, to me specifically he said that I must’ve been taught hockey by someone who didn’t even know how to skate,” Chalmers replied.

Mr. Cragg startled and almost looked like he wanted to question Chalmers, who set his jaw in an effort to dispel such thoughts from Mr. Cragg’s mind.

“I don’t really appreciate my grandpa being talked about like that,” Chalmers said. “Not that he actually knew my grandpa taught me, but, even since then, he’s really been hard on me, as if, he seems to think you were kind of stupid for drafting me first overall.”

“Really?” Mr. Cragg asked.

“According to one of the news guys posting on, I think it was Facebook, I’ve been demoted off the first line because Audric, Jalen, and Slater Dunn are the only guys on the team he considers standouts,” Chalmers replied. “And just to be clear, I don’t think Slater’s garbage, but I’ve not exactly been a slouch out there. This is my draft season, I’ve got to look good or I’m not going to get picked at all, forget where I’m projected to go.”

“So, are you making a trade request then?” Mr. Cragg asked.

Chalmers was sure his small intestines had just wrapped up his stomach like a mummy as his insides contracted within him in alarm.

“No,” he replied. “No, no, no, no, no… no, I don’t want to go anywhere. Please don’t trade me. I like it here, and I think we’re– we’ve got the potential to, to, to improve, to make the playoffs, you know, all the stuff we want to do, I just don’t understand why Coach Leslie seems to think I, particularly, am verging on garbage. Please, please don’t trade me.”
“It’s okay,” Mr. Cragg said. “I wouldn’t trade you unless it was a good move for the team, and for you, and, right now, I don’t think a trade would be for either party.”

Chalmers felt relief wash over him and could easily imagine his intestines sliding off his stomach into a heap of relaxed coils.

“Nonetheless, what you’ve said is concerning,” Mr. Cragg said. “And I’m going to have to do some talking and looking. Is it just Darren?”
“Yes,” Chalmers replied. “Coach Seaborn actually says he thinks I’m one of the best players he’s ever coached, and the rest of them haven’t suggested much differently either.”

“Well, thank you for bringing this to my attention Chalmers,” Mr. Cragg said. “I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you,” Chalmers replied, feeling much-relieved.

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Cragg said. “There wasn’t anything else you had to say?”

“No, I’ll let you do your work now,” Chalmers said.

“Well, thank you,” Mr. Cragg said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too,” Chalmers replied.

Chalmers walked away from Mr. Cragg feeling quite relieved — even if his heart had about stopped when Mr. Cragg had suggested his being traded — and hopeful that Mr. Cragg would be able to effect change that would see him and his teammates treated as more competent athletes by Coach Leslie than they presently seemed to be.