Chapter Text
Eddie’s used to it at this point.
What we’re keeping an eye out for here is Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz, the newest addition to the Los Angeles Lights.
The expectations, the weight. The words.
A surprise pick to replace first line center Kinard who retired this past spring, Diaz hails from the great state of Texas.
His first taste of the power of words on the ice was his first structured hockey game at age 10. It had left him in the locker room for an entire hour after the game, tears streaming down his face.
Diaz’s hockey career broke through the surface when he delivered the Army West Point Black Knights their first league championship in 25 years…as a nineteen year old.
The game had begun beautifully. Eddie wasn’t the biggest or the strongest on the team but he was the fastest 10 year old in El Paso. It was tied at the bottom of the third period and Eddie had miraculously swiped the puck.
Although folks might think Diaz is a rookie for the minor league, he actually made an appearance four years ago in a NHL playoff game for the Dallas Stars.
He had almost made it to the other end with no opposition players to crowd him. This was the feeling Eddie loved. The scraping of the ice against his skates, the thrill thrumming through his veins.
Diaz left on his own admission after the Stars lost the playoffs. Heroically, he returned back to the Army to serve a tour in Afghanistan, earning a Silver Star in the process.
The way no matter how cold the ice was, he felt this warmth spreading in his chest when he skated. The puck swiping precariously back and forth in front of him.
So when the opposition team’s captain swung into his shoulder with the force of 20 extra pounds on Diaz, Eddie crumpled.
You gotta love a player with a great backstory, Chet. Whoever is running PR for the Lights now has to be commended. His profile in Ice Town is everywhere on Twitter right now.
Everyone whizzed past him as he lay there. He expected someone to stop the game. Someone to call out his name.
But all he heard was the chirp from the other team whizzing past him.
In an even rarer appearance, Coach Nash spoke to the Hockey Pod about the upcoming season and most importantly: the newest addition to his lineup.
To be fair, he didn’t understand most of the words. That would come later. But he did know that they weren’t good.
It was the shame that kept him curled up in a ball on the ice as the other team scored the goal they needed to win.
The shame that kept him there until his coach unceremoniously yanked him back up.
While avoiding details on Kinard’s sudden retirement, Coach Nash was happy to praise and talk up the newest player.
His dad found him in the corner of the locker room. All sweaty brown hair and eyes filled with tears. The string of lengthy Spanish words pounding his ears from his father’s lips etched into his brain.
“Diaz is key to the growth we’ve been having as a team,” Coach Nash remarked, “He has incredible perseverance and a deep respect for the team and its fans.”
He left the rink with his head down, trailing after his father. He couldn’t hear the other boys in his head anymore. Just his father’s gravely voice breaking from his lecture to emphasize one phrase.
Let’s see how the Lights’s yellow rose from Texas handles the heat from the Ontario Panthers tonight.
Real winners don’t cry.