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The bus had left the Quartier des Spectacles, and yet, Marie-Philip Poulin could still hear the crowd – so numerous, so energetic, so much more than anything they could have imagined – even above her teammates’ screams and laughs and cheers, as beer cans kept being opened and poured into each other’s mouths. Bou was still playing her tuba, tirelessly. Laura had been laughing at her all day, along with everyone else, although Marie knew there was also admiration in these laughs and teases. Nicole was set on getting the entire team to sign her t-shirt. Dubs was talking animatedly with Abby, Erin and Lina – who was definitively the drunkest of them all, having to hold on to her teammate to not fall over. (Although, in her defense, Montreal’s roads were known for their numerous potholes, which made standing on top of a double-decker bus perilous for anyone.) Ann-Renée was still living on Instagram – that was the word, right ? And Scam was...
Suddenly, a hip knocked her own.
“Hey, you.”
Laura’s voice was raspy in the best possible ways, her face illuminated by the brightest of smiles – despite the exhaustion lying beneath it. Damn, Marie wanted to kiss her ! Taste the beer from her lips, the sweet flavor of victory, the intoxicating saltiness of hard-earned sweat. But they were still with the team, the coaches – at work – even if it was a joyful event.
“Hey back.”
Given how Laura’s eyes sparkled, Marie knew she wasn’t the only one holding back. It was a small price to pay, however, for what they had together : best friends, line mates, wives, and Walter Cup champs !
“Sign my shirt ?” Laura asked, making Marie snort.
Yet, she uncapped her pen and gestured for her wife to turn around. She blew on the ink to make it dry, in lieu of a kiss, before passing the pen to Laura.
“Do mine ?”
“Oh, I’ll do you alright !” Laura joked suggestively.
Marie laughed again, before pushing her away, playfully, teasingly, but catching her by the hand at the same time, their wedding bands brushing.
“Woooh !!!!”
A body crashed into them, screaming. They screamed back and joined in the team’s festivities, as the bus drove through Montreal. The sun was high in the blue sky, and they had won the Walter Cup. It was a good day.
**
The bus stopped at the Montreal Victoire HQ, their training center, where a feast was waiting for them, with the entire staff, and half a dozen bottles of champagne.
A new wave of euphoria hit them all. It wasn’t the first team dinner since their win, and yet, each time felt like they had just won.
Dan gestured for Marie to come over, and she handed her the Cup – one last time. It would stay at the Victoire Center after that, and every player would have replicas.
Marie-Philip Poulin, her heart beating fast in her chest, took the cup and brought it to her teammates, just like she had done on the Ottawa ice, ten days prior, screaming and laughing her heart out.
“On l’a fait, les filles ! We made it, girls ! We fucking made it !”
Her teammates responded in kind, screaming and laughing and chanting. The feeling didn’t seem to get old. To some extent, it would never. No matter what the future had in store, nothing could take their first Walter Cup win, this team, this season.
Champagne was poured into the cup, and they all drank out of Walter, before finally settling around the table to eat. (It was nearing 4 p.m., they hadn’t had lunch, they were all starving.)
Once their platters were clean, Marie caught Laura’s eyes and, when she winked, an easy smile on her lips, the Captain stood up and raised her glass. The room was spinning a little and her knee hurt like a bitch, as she had cooled down on the painkillers to be able to celebrate properly (drunkenly), but there was no better feeling in the world than being here, surrounded by her team – her chosen family – her warriors, her fighters, her winners, her Walter Cup champions.
“Speech, speech, speech !” Erin and Abby started to chant, making Marie chuckle and duck her head.
“I’ve already told each and every one of you how proud I am of you and of us, of all the struggles we overcame to be here today, and I know you want to party some more, so I won’t expand much more on it. Plus, you know if I do, I’ll start crying. Again. So…”
And, just as she said that, she felt tears at the corner of her eyes. She laughed it off.
“I, however, wanted to take this opportunity to thank, once again, our medical team here, and Alex, in particular. We wouldn’t be here if not for you. None of us would, but, this year, I feel like Laura and I spend as much time around you being patched up and tapped up than on the ice practicing or playing, so, to show our gratitude…”
Marie grabbed the box Laura was handing her, and started distributing gifts to their medical team, under the team’s applause and cheers.
“For all the coaching staff, you each got a champagne bottle in your name at home. And to everyone, you’re all invited to this year’s edition of the LS7 Foundation !”
They all cheered.
“Prepared to get your ass kicked, Pou. Again !” Abby teased, earning herself a new round of laughter.
Abby freaking Roque, Marie-Philip couldn’t help but think, so fondly. Who would have thought ?
The partying quickly resumed, and, at some point, Marie made her way to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. (Unlike the kids, she knew how to prevent hangovers. Mostly.)
Once there, though, she leaned over the counter, glass untouched. Through the open door, she could see the team – her team, her girls, her chosen family, her champs – chanting, cheering, talking, drinking. So beautiful and so young, full of life and hope and pride. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit her, and this time she let the tears fall freely.
A strong arm landed on her shoulder. She knew it was Caro, both because she would recognize her mentor’s embrace among a thousand and because, as Maggie had said, she had eyes behind her head.
“Hey, kid.”
“I’m 35 years old, you know that, right ?”
The coach smiled, teasingly.
“You don’t look like it.”
Marie let out a teary laugh :
“You’re absolutely right. With my fucked up knee, I look like I’m eighty or something.”
“Please. I don’t know a lot of eighty years old who could win a Walter Cup. You are a force to be reckoned with, Marie-Philip Poulin, #29, Captain of the Montreal Victoire, Captain of Team Canada, 5-time Olympian, and Walter Cup champion. Or, as the kids say, the GOAT.”
Said GOAT ducked her head, still as shy as ever when complimented.
“I want more of this.” She confessed. “More wins. More Walter Cups, more chance to steal gold from Team USA.”
“Winning is in your blood, Captain.”
“I know. But I also don’t want to drag any team down, with my age or my knee. I don’t want to be this cliché former prodigy who outlasts her expiration date and starts falling behind, but doesn’t see it and has to be quietly shown the exit door…”
“You won’t be.”
“I might ! My knee… I still have appointments with doctors and surgeons, but… I might not make a full recovery.”
Caro hugged her fiercely, she knew this fear. This terrifying thought of being told you couldn’t play anymore, no matter how much you wanted to. This frightening moment where no amount of mental strength could make up for your own body falling you. This anticipatory shame of having to retire, but not on your own terms.
“And then, there is the family. Kids of our own. I want that, Caro. I want it so fiercely it scares me, sometimes. I use to only feel like that about hockey, then about hockey and Laura, and now, about this dream of kids we don’t even have yet running around our house, playing catch with Arlo and taking their first step on the frozen lake at their grandparents’ place.”
Caro felt her eyes watering too.
“You’ll have that, Pou. You will.”
“I’m so terrified of making the wrong decision, getting the wrong timeline, fucking it up…”
Caro kissed her head, sympathetic. She knew, intimately, her friend’s fears and doubts.
“No matter what you – both singular and plural – decide, it will be the right decision. I know it.”
**
It had been Abby’s idea. Of course it had been. Breaking into Place Bell, to finish off the night. Around 1 a.m., the staff had retired and only the team was left. They were all simultaneously vibrating with energy and more exhausted than they ever felt, with the intensive playoffs and the constant partying since winning. Maybe that’s why they didn’t think quite clearly.
“Found it !” Dubs yelled as a loud “clank” resonated in the dark ring and the lights lit up.
Cheers erupted, and soon, the entire team was on the ice – in their street shoes – falling over and gliding on their asses like little kids learning how to skate. Someone put some music on, and the party took off again. A tubaless Bou was lifted in the air by Maggie and Dubois. Maggie was dared by Abby to chug three beers, because “three-peat, baby !”, Abby raced against Laura on the ice, Laura won, and dared Abby to read them her wedding list, Abby told her to fuck off if she didn’t want to loose her spot on said list, and they all laughed.
At some point, Marie sat on the bench, where a drunk Erin was laying an even drunker Lina down.
“ ‘M fine…” the Swedish muttered, but she was clearly hammered. “Hey, Cap’ !”
“Hey, Lina !” Marie chuckled. What was with the kids these days and not knowing how to handle their liquor ?
She sat down and watched her team, her friends, her girls, making fools of themselves, on their home ice, after winning the Walter Cup. Kori had been right : they were so lucky, playing hockey for a living. They was no better feeling in the world.
Next to her, Erin started humming along to the song that was on, and, therefore, Marie started to pay attention to it.
I said remember this moment,
In the back of my mind
The time we stood with our shaking hands
The crowd in stand went wild
Her gaze caught Laura, as she remembered her speech from the parade. Taking in the moment. Her wife skated – well, skated… again, they were all in street shoes – towards her, scream-singing :
You held your head like a hero
Everybody cheered, raising their imaginary glass – they had ran out of beer long ago – towards their captain. But, then, the following lyrics hit them all hard :
It was the end of a decade
But the start of an age
The team cheered and cried at the same time, because it was true. No matter what the future held, next season would be completely different from the past ones – the expansion, the injuries, some players taking a step back, others stepping up… It truly was the end of something, but also the start of something new and bright for Montreal, for Canada, for women’s hockey, for women’s sport… So they all screamed together, jumping, and hugging and crying :
Long live the walls we crashed through
Because, fuck, they did crash through so many walls !
Long live all the magic we made
Because they did made magic. Sold out arenas, people in the streets cheering for them, being recognized even out of their Victoire attire, winning a Cup with so many injuries… Yes, what they had been doing was beyond playing hockey or being supported by fans, it was pure unfiltered human magic.
When they gave us our trophies
And we held them up for our town
They roared at that, miming lifting the Walter Cup once more.
'Cause for a moment a band of thieves in ripped up jeans
Got to rule the world
Because, in some ways, that what they were. No matter their age or specific life story, inside of them all, lived a little girl, in ripped up gear, who only dreamt of making it big in hockey when everyone and everything told them it wasn’t possible. But, now it was. They had made it possible. They got to rule the world, and, with a bit more luck and continued grit, it would last longer than a moment.
Promise me this
That you'll stand by me forever
But if —God forbid— fate should step in
And force us into a goodbye
If you have children some day
At that, Marie couldn’t hold back a sob, as she hugged her wife, soon joined by their entire team. She felt Laura sob in her hair as she herself was basically biting in Laura’s shirt not to ugly cry.
Singing long live all the mountains we moved.
I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you
She really did. And she couldn’t help but look forwards to the next dragon to slay, no matter the form it would take.
When the song came to an end, they all fall on the ice, in a big, weird, hug. They didn’t talk for a long time, after that.
“We’ll catch pneumonia, if we stay here.” Laura suddenly said, her voice still wavering.
Some whispers were heard, most of them with the word “mom” teasingly thrown in, but soon, they made their ways to the bleachers.
It was calmer and mellower now, but nobody wanted to leave. It was a moment suspended in time, and they all wanted to enjoy it, bask in it, remember it.
Marie’s hand didn’t let go of Laura’s. Ann made her way to the couple and hugged them fiercely.
“Je vous aime, les filles.”
“We love you, too. And we are so, so proud of you. Of us.” Laura responded, because Marie couldn’t talk anymore.
They hugged some more.
“No matter what the future holds, it is not over. This season may be, this team may change, but this isn’t over. There is more hockey for us, so much more hockey, no matter the form it takes.”
“Oui.”
There was a fire burning in Marie’s eyes, and Laura fell in love all over again – which is something she did fairly often, but still.
“Wow ! They published the official numbers at the parade ! 20 000 people were there ! Holy fuck !”
It made their heads spin in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol or the tiredness. It was so unbelievable ! 20 000 people !
“Wait, wait, wait ! Pou ! Look at that ! Celine ! Celine Dion reposted us !”
“What ? Fais voir !”
Marie excitedly took the phone that was handed to her.
“Tabarnak !” she whispered, feeling a new wave of emotion hitting her.
They were laughs and cheers and she would be teased about being such a fangirl, but she couldn’t help it.
Erin took over the aux, and soon, a very familiar song came on. Everybody got back up, finding someone to dance with, to sing with, to just exist with for one more moment. Laura’s body found Marie’s, as their hands linked together.
It's all coming back, it's all coming back to me now
There were moments of gold, and there were flashes of light
There were things I'd never do again, but then they'd always seemed right
There were nights of endless pleasure, it was more than any laws allow
Baby, baby
Marie’s fingers found the back of Laura’s head, and, this time, as her wife nodded, she kissed her. It wasn’t a work event – hell, they had broken into the place – and it wasn’t her coworkers around them, it was their friends, their chosen family, their girls. It was the off-season, they had won the Walter Cup, and while the future was still uncertain and would not be doubt free, it was bright. Caro was right, no matter the choice they would make, it would be the right one.
It was all coming back to them, and, more importantly, it was all falling into place.