Sheesh. My inexperience sure is showing.
One of the camp directors, Richard, greets me at the rink and tells me to leave my stuff by the bench. The ice isn’t ready yet since the power went out overnight, so I’m leading a video andtheory session first. A text from Luke comes in, and I check it as I dump my gear onto the bench.
Luke Tremblay
Don’t worry about it. You’re good
Heading to the consulate now. Will keep you posted
As I’m typing out a reply, I get a low-battery notification. I scramble around in my bag for my charger, cursing the one cable that I brought with me. It’s too loose and always slips out, and I was too stubborn to pay airport prices for a replacement.
I find an outlet and plug my phone in right as Richard calls me over. “Norberg, you’re up now.”
Oh well. I set my phone down on the ledge above the outlet and head into the office, ready for my first go as a coach.
Coaching is okay, but I still prefer being on the ice.
“Okay boys,” I call out. “Lace up and meet me on the ice in fifteen. We’re going through scoring drills first.” This is a U20 camp, composed mostly of American and Canadian AHL hopefuls. They settled down pretty quickly at the beginning of the video review, so I’m optimistic that they’ll be an easy group to handle.
I’m already dressed appropriately, but my skates are on the bench. After lacing up, I march over to where my phone is charging and… my phone isn’t there. The charger is. The cord, however, is dangling off the other side of the ledge.
I take a peek over and sure enough, my phone is on the ice. Reaching down, I try to grab it, and my fingernails catch.
What the hell?
My phone is stuck—no, it’s frozen. It won’t budge.
I spot a technician and wave him over. “Hey, uh, my phone is frozen in the rink.”
His eyes widen. “What? How did that happen? We haven't resurfaced the ice since last night.”
“I was charging it, and it must have fallen,” I unplug my charger. “Still not sure how?—”
The end of the cable is black and burnt off, and everything clicks.
My phone fell onto the rink. The cable shorted, overheating the phone, and that thawed some of the ice.
And of course, the water froze again, sealing my phone in.
Jesus fuck.
“Is the phone okay?” the technician asks, and I let out a huff.
“Not sure, but it can wait.”
I’m not about to make the camp thaw the whole rink just so I can get my phone, so I skate to center ice for my scoring drills. My stupid phone can wait for the ice to melt after the day is over. It’s waterproof, anyway.
“Hey, Erik,” Richard says as I’m about to summon the campers. “One of the technicians said that your phone fell in the ice?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. It isn’t completely submerged, and it can wait until I’m finished with the session.”
Richard raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I can get someone to fix a heat gun on it and pry it out if you’d like.”
I nod. “That would be great, thanks. I thought the rink would have to thaw before I could get at it, and I didn’t want to disrupt the camp.”
“Sounds good, I’ll get on that,” he says before skating away.
The scoring drills begin, and I split my time between telling the campers to ignore the loud process of extracting my phonefrom the rink, and to not intentionally pelt the goalie with slapshots. After about half an hour, Richard skates over and hands me my phone, not saying a word.
