I walk into the locker room. The swinging salon doors tell me that I am not in the big city. Tumbleweed blows across the empty floor. Where is everybody? Music starts to play, it sounds like a western showdown. The locker room bartender throws me a puck, “It’s beat up, but we rather the puck than the players.” Creepy music begins. ALARM CLOCK. I wake up, I have 15 minutes to get to the locker room on my first day on the team. Great way to begin. I race to the arena knowing I am going to be late. You think a big guy from Ireland would be above reproach but no, I’m a sensitive guy. I walk into the area and see that some of the guys are already hitting the ice. Coach blows a whistle as I try to sneak into the dressing room. “Well look who the cat dragged in? Get on the ice Seamus!”. I start to head to the locker room to change as quickly as possible until I hear another whistle. “I meant now Seamus, this is the start of your professional career.” I drop my bags and head to the ice. As I approach the coach, the rest of the team stops skating to look at me. I walk with my head held high. “That’s enough Seamus, I got your mettle now. At least you’re coachable. Go get your gear on!” I turn around with some relief, as I head to my designated spot I see a little package of cookies with a note that says “Coach’s bark is worse than their bite” Signed by the whole team. I guess I can play here.