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Chapter 63: Foppa VI or The Land of Nuts and Fruits
Usually, no matter how close they were, players never met with old friends before a game, if they were going to be playing against them later. It wasn’t a rule or a taboo, but more of a common sense thing. It was hard, as Claude Lemieux had put it to Peter once before, to make niceties with a guy in the afternoon and that evening drill him head first into the boards. There were morals involved!
Peter really wasn’t thinking about that. Deader was more then a friend to him he was a brother. He remembered entering training camp in Quebec with Adam Deadmarsh, the two of them excited and nervous about being in the NHL. Peter had been shy about fitting in with all the older players, and Adam had been more gregarious, almost innocently joshing other veterans and taking the consequences of his actions with that childish, demented smile on his face. Peter had spent most of his free time chasing girls or messing with street whores, too wary of being with the other players, and there was Deader, putting an arm over his shoulder and dragging him to parties and practices. They fit well together, loved being on the ice together, loved stirring up shit together.
Being with Adam before games was always what Peter had looked forward to. Especially when they would sit together on the bench, watching Adam Foote, or Owen Nolan or Chris Simon or some other Quebec teammate waking the hell out of their arch-rival Montreal Canadiens, getting ole twitchy head Patty to panic. That’s when they were just dying to scramble onto the ice and join in the fracas. Then that bled down to Colorado and the excitement before games against the Red Wings. Opening day in Denver, Adam and Peter had no idea the red beast they would be tangling with when they defeated the Wings. That was excitement too.
Peter had felt a twinge of jealousy when Adam, with the Kings, had scored that overtime game winner on Chris Osgood to stun the Wings out of the first round. He knew the joy that had raced through Deader’s heart then, a joy none of his Los Angeles teammates could ever understand. He had wanted to be there with him.
It was early in 2001 when Adam was traded from the Avalanche. It had been a hectic season up until that point, the whole team told to point at the sky Babe Ruth style and declare their determination for not only a President’s Trophy, but a Stanley Cup as well. And they did, through everything, through the frantic urgency in games to cover Patty’s nervousness to help him obtain Terry Sawchuck’s record, then days later having to draw the wagons around Patrick to hide the public from the nasty details of his arrest. All through that and the tremendous amount of injuries they were sustaining, the team kept their focus and then Deader’s wife, Krista had trouble with the twins she was carrying. And Patrick was forgotten as they all drew to the nervous couple’s side. Debbie, fresh from her own twins, sat next to Krista’s hospital bed for weeks, comforting her and Peter tried to be there for her too. Mostly, Adam cried in private, and Peter tried to help him. Adam’s recent concussion from a fight with Ed Jovanowski had left him emotionally overwhelmed sometimes, and Peter knew that pain.
When the twins were born it was like sunshine had enveloped the team, and they could all breathe. Even though the babies were premature, tiny, and in the infant care ward of the hospital, somehow everyone felt they would be all right. And there was a celebration of sorts, when they played a night game at home against the Boston Bruins, devouring the B’s and ringing them for eight goals. At that point, they knew that everything was perfect, and nothing could change that.
When word went through the locker room after the game that a trade had gone through, everyone looked at each other and knew that Lacroix had obtained Rob Blake. The question was who was going? The win was forgotten and everyone sat tensely in the locker room.
"I’m going," Shjon Podein had said over and over, "I know I’m a throw in, I’m going." Podes had always been like that at every trade deadline, convinced of his imminent departure, crying about the animal charities his wife ran. But it hadn’t been Podes.
When it was clear that Deadmarsh and Miller were going there was a jolt that ran from man to man and there had been a tearing pain inside Peter. But the twins can’t be moved! Peter had thought. But Deader had just signed a fresh contract... it was impossible. There must have been a mistake. It had been no mistake. Adam made no attempt to hide the tears streaming down his face, and Peter didn’t hesitate to hug him, and cry as well. The team sat quietly around them, a hand patting their backs every now and then.
What hung most on Peter’s mind that night, in his dreams, was the memory of missing a wide open empty net at close range during a playoff game against the Phoenix Coyotes. With just a one-goal lead for the Avs, that had been an embarrassing and potentially dangerous mistake. Deader had almost immediately snapped up the puck and shot it home, slipping Peter off the hook.
As soon as that goal had been scored, Peter had doubled over, laughing and blushing. A sheepish smile burned his mouth as he skated to Adam and hugged him. "Thanks man!" he had said.
When they were back on the bench, leaning over the boards, staring at the teams while the remaining seconds of the game were ticking away, Adam howled. "I love this fucking game!"
"Fucking game!" Peter barked back.
Peter knew he would never have another friend like that. He still saw Deader in the summers, as they still competed for their own green golf jacket against each other. But that wasn’t the same. It could never be the same.
It wasn’t fair.
"How ya doing man?" Deader said with a warm smile as Peter met him outside of a Los Angeles restaurant.
Impulsively, Peter leaned forward and gripped him in a tight hug. Adam laughed a bit. "That bad, eh?" he said.
"Nah," Peter said, pulling back quickly. "I’m OK."
"Hey," Deader said as they dug into the huge, juicy steaks on their plates. "Remember what ole Pepe used to say about meeting old friends before a game?"
Peter nodded. "Yeah... Don’t."
"Oh we’re OK," Adam said. "We don’t let things like that get to us."
Peter took a swig of beer, holding it in his mouth and swallowing slowly. He looked at Adam as he carved at the steak on his plate. Peter had almost cancelled having lunch with him. He had been afraid. Afraid that he would feel the same lust for Adam that he had been feeling for Joe and even for Drury. When Peter had hugged Deader, it had been out of relief. He felt no such lust for Adam, and the very thought that he might have, made him want to gag.
"So... Peter, has everything been OK?" Adam finally asked.
A nervous twinge went through Peter. "Why do you ask?" he asked as calmly as he could.
"Well... I mean what was with last night? It’s all over Sports Center, your weeping and running from Bryan Marchment. I mean next time you fellas play San Jose you’re gonna haveta take a game misconduct on him just to get your honor back for that one!" Deadmarsh said.
Forsberg sighed and closed his eyes. Jo had called him that morning, saying she had some things in Phoenix to do so she was going to fly over there while he was on the roadtrip. She had promised that she would be back as soon as he was, but she had made no mention of his game in San Jose. He had a sick feeling that perhaps she was ashamed of him now.
"I can’t even really, remember what happened there," Peter said. "Keep a secret Deader, but, someone tainted our buffet... some sorta drug."
"No shit!" Deadmarsh said. "Are you OK? I mean you’re playing tonight?"
Peter nodded. "Yup, it seems to have washed out of our systems. Dru thinks it might be that new party drug."
Adam laughed and shook his head. "And the adventures continue. You know, the one thing I really miss about being in Denver is how friggin weird it was on that team! Never got boring. Never.... hey Peter, you know what you need now?"
"Oh yeah," Peter said. "What?"
Adam held up his hand and finished chewing. "A good woman," he said after he swallowed. "You need to settle down... True happiness is holding your children in your arms, and seeing the smile on their mother’s face. The day that happens for you Pete, you’ll thank me."
Peter shrugged. "Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I have someone right now..."
"Really?" Deader said. "Let me guess, you got another blond, Sakic nanny fired?"
Forsberg laughed, shaking his head. "Now Danny’s on the new Sakic nanny, and he’s more subtle than I am. No, not this one, I met her in Phoenix. She’s gorgeous!"
"I bet she is," Deadmarsh said. "And then you get bored..."
"Really, Adam," Peter said. "I think she’s great! She’s so different than anyone I’ve ever known is. She’s smart..."
"Well that’s a change..." Adam laughed.
Peter continued as if he hadn’t heard him. "She’s a columnist for this Mexican-American arts magazine, I can’t remember the name of it and she helps her father with his restaurant business. I mean... her name is Josefina Ruiz... and... and..."
Peter’s voice froze when he thought of Jo’s soft, delicious brown skin.
"Oooh," Adam said in a low, almost reverent voice. "Has someone rendered you speechless?"
Peter blushed and looked away. "You have got to meet her Adam. She’s... I don’t know what to say, really."
At that moment, Joe Sakic never crossed his mind.
"You know, Keaner, we sure as hell better get a normal game tonight," Peter said as he flopped down on the bench in front of his locker. He was a bit pleased to hear that Keaner had been nominated Captain for the next couple of weeks, he and Footer were sick of babysitting the team. "I mean all season, can you even think of a normal game that we have had?"
Keaner yawned and squinted. "Anaheim. That went pretty normal."
"Except Parks and Tangers found out Selanne and Kariya were fudge-packers before that." Yelle said.
Keaner’s expression didn’t change. "Oh, right," he said. "Heh heh."
Forsberg rolled his eyes.
"Hey Peter," Keaner said. "You and Footer are still alternates OK. You guys haven’t had any extra-curricular chocolate products, have you?"
Peter laughed. "No! I don’t ever want to see chocolate again!"
"Footer, get over here!" Keaner barked.
Footer scurried over to them and sat down. "Yah?"
Keaner leaned forward and looked at Peter directly in the eye and then at Footer. "Listen," he said in a low voice. "I’m only captain right now because Blake tried to get the position for himself by making it seem like Joey’s idea. So Joe asked a little favor of me and the fellas of my choosing."
"Yeah?" Peter and Footer said.
"Yeah," Keaner said. "In the next few days, let’s see if we can teach Robbie a lesson in humility."
Peter grinned. That sounded like a fun that he would have to tell Deader all about.
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