Torn meniscus, estimated six week recovery time.

That’s what the email with my test results on my knee said. The doctors couldn’t be sure when the injury occurred, but given how small the tear was, they said it was likely during the conference finals, or the pile up in the UHL Championship series. Either way, I had likely played the last two games of our series with a torn meniscus. And we still won. Take that St. John. Absolute win for the toxicity of hockey culture, but I did not care. We were champions. It was beyond worth it.

I was a little worried about how this would completely derail my offseason. First, we had an incredibly long year with the finals stretching all the way into the beginning of June, and second the surgery recovery time would delay my regular training schedule and leave me with less time to ramp up before training camp. Yep, that’s right, training camp. I knew before the season was over most of us on the Mariners would make the training camp, myself included. The prospect coordinator confirmed with a lot of us our participation would not be in doubt before the first round series. Now, with a great playoff run and my stock rising on prospect boards this could be a make or break moment for my career.

My career now that was a word I wasn’t thinking about with any seriousness regarding hockey beyond maybe the next 18 months. I figured this would be my last rodeo, I’d get some good leads on coaching and then figure out how and when I’d transition. I didn’t think I’d actually start socially transitioning, let alone being happy. There was no putting that genie out of the bottle, but also I now had to juggle that and possibly being in New York’s plans for the next season? Put me back in the crease on a bum fucking knee, that’s much easier to juggle.

Brock was there for me when I started spiraling about the implications of the injury and that crossroads I had kind of found myself in, unintentionally. When I just wanted to run to the first surgeon possible and get this over with so I could get back on the ice quicker, he wisely told me to rest for a week and get a second opinion. I didn’t really want to be a burden to anyone, but the organization had a doctor in New York City they send players to. I also wasn’t really looking forward to going to Vermont this summer, so I figured I could find a place to find a cheap room for one or two months and do some part time work while prepping for the next year. Luckily, our playoff bonus wiped out what credit card debt I had and allowed me the chance to actually put a little, okay incredibly little, amount of money in a savings account. Rent for two months anywhere I wanted wouldn’t have been an issue.

I had the weird idea that maybe I could spend the summer with Brock. He was correct that his house in Boston had a carriage house in the back that I could make use of, and his family would love to have me. We probably wouldn’t be running to tell his parents we were dating, but Sapphire would be around. Plus, it would be great to have a workout buddy. The need for surgery kind of threw a wrench in that. I did not want to be a burden in any regard, and my anxiety would have wrecked me. But he also was not equipped to handle rehab and I wasn’t sure what team facilities I could use in the summer. Technically my contract was with New York, not Olympic City.

Jenna came through on that front, however. Unbeknownst to me, I turned out she did not in fact need the classes she abandoned to graduate, and was able to graduate virtually in the spring. She apparently was a Marketing major, something I never knew, and was able to get a job in New York City starting in the summer. How did she land said job working as a waitress at a hockey themed bar in rural Oregon? Well, she finally convinced Sam to ask out Clara. Now, Clara’s contract at the Mariners was up this year, and she made no illusions that she wanted a step up in life, and to get out of lesbian-less., her words not mine, Oregon. Luckily, her talents were in demand and the hockey world is relatively closed knit, so she was able to land a job in Philadelphia with New York’s main rival. This came as quite a shock to Sam, especially since she landed the job a week after Sam fairly asked her out. Unbeknownst to Clara, Sam had been looking at jobs on the East Coast, probably assuming that Clara would be promoted within the organization. Unlike players, however, Clara did not have a contract with New York, but with Olympic City. So it wasn’t entirely surprising that another organization poached her. 

What was surprising was the location. Sam had used the global connection of bartenders, something I don’t believe is real but she swears is, to find a job in New York City, hoping to surprise her girlfriend with a preemptive move out east. They managed to both tell each other this news on the same day. A lot of tears and wine later, they realized that the distance was not that far, and they would be able to see each other quite frequently. I would not be surprised if they were married and had a place halfway in between each city within six months. 

Rounding out our little crew was Miss Riley Strauss. Distraught that the beat reporter job at the New York Union was not opening up for the next season, she did what any enterprising young reporter would do. Find a job in a rival city, in a totally different sport. When Clara and Sam explained their future plans in a double date with Riley and Jenna, it became apparent quickly that the other couple were sitting on news they had not told each other. Jenna quickly spilled the beans that she would be going with Sam to New York, doing marketing for the company that owns the high-end restaurant Sam was bartending at, among others across the city. Feeling absolutely selfish and terrible Jenna began breaking down saying that she learned only a few days ago and really should have told her sooner. She relayed this information to me secondhand, so I don’t know just how true this was, but according to my best friend Riley just started laughing uncontrollably at the news. 

“Well this is going to be fun,” was what she apparently said. 

Riley Strauss was going to be the new beat reporter covering the Philadelphia Buffs for the city’s largest paper the Philadelphia Daily Messenger. It was an incredible promotion for a beat reporter covering minor league hockey, and something she incredibly deserved. It also meant I could talk freely about my life and career with her, much more often. Her last big story in Olympic City was about my knee injury, which was only fair since she kept my secrets this year. I made sure to tell her if I was ever transitioning - into a baseball career that is - she would be the first to know. I needed her to break my story. So, Riley unilaterally decided at that dinner she would be moving in with Clara, while Sam and Jenna would live together in New York. 

I figured I would be able to crash with Sam and Jenna for a month before and during training camp. It would be perfect, I would not need to get a lease in the city and could just have a safe space to be myself whenever I needed. Whatever next year brought, an NHL journey or another year in the UHL was going to be tackled. It was just those next few months up in the air, but that was okay. Because there were places I could go and people I could count on. It was just so much more than I could have said after training camp ended last year. 

Waiting for that second opinion in New York, I spent the time with Brock talking about my and our futures. I was so fucking in love with this man, and I was starting to get the sense he was in love with me too. The cuddling and sex were absolutely a blast when we both realized just how much we had accomplished together and with our teammates, but it was also nice having someone in that world of sports who was struggling with the weight of very few concrete answers year after year. I came to the conclusion myself that if Training Camp was an absolute disaster, I would take my leave back to Olympic City, find an informed consent clinic there and begin hormones. When my results dipped, I could use it as a way to quietly retire and go live with my friends back east for a bit. Then I could break back into the hockey world, with the connections I had, as a woman under a new name and just do what I loved without the rigor of a professional athlete schedule. But, if Training Camp went well? In that case, I’d have to push hormones off, but I wasn’t going to live off the ice anything less than myself. I’d have to figure out how to keep the team out of it, but guys in the pros aren’t best friends with each other. This is a professional environment. It was definitely doable. I would probably have to find a few more people I could trust to bring them in just for safety reasons, and once I found a way to cut my parents out of my life once they tried to leech off me I could change my last name once and for all. I had a few ideas, and for now none of them were Lazenby. 

With options lined up for my future, I flew to New York for that second opinion, and then spent the weekend at Brock’s up in Boston. It was weird meeting his family presenting as a guy, I definitely made the right call not staying the summer here. But, they did not bat a single eyelash when we both hung out in the carriage house for a weekend, celebrating our big championship. When I was just about to see if I could book a surgery date just so I could figure out where the hell to rehab my knee a surprising email came through on a Sunday night:

Jamie,

First off the entire organization would like to extend our congratulations to you as part of the wonderful run our UHL affiliate the Olympic City Mariners went on this spring. It is always a treat to see the next generation of NHL pros come out and fight for a title like you all did. 

Secondly, we would like to thank you for getting a second opinion on your knee from one of our trusted doctors. I’ve attached your test results and doctors notes to this email, but what he shared with the organization - with your consent - was similar to the results from the first doctor. Surgery will be needed to fix your meniscus tear, but it will be arthroscopically and the recovery time can range from 3-6 weeks.

We kindly suggest that the surgery take place within the next three days at our partner hospital here in New York City. Afterwards, team facilities would be available for you to use during your rehabilitation, as the timeline would lineup with our annual prospect showcase just two weeks before NHL training camp, of which you are an invitee. Please use the phone number in my signature to give me a call on Monday so we can coordinate a surgery time, and the entire organization looks forward to you doing your rehabilitation here in New York as we prepare you to compete for a Stanley Cup with our team.

Tuomi Raankaan, Prospect Coordinator - New York Empires 

SydneyAurora

And that is that! Thank you all for coming along with this ride so far. I do have a second (and possibly third) book planned that will be a direct sequel continuing the journey of Rhea and Brock. However, I am going to take the time to edit this rough, rough first draft of a novel and see what I can do with it. I appreciate all of you who took the time to read and comment, it honestly has kept me going. I never expected this project to actually see its conclusion, and getting here has been one of the more fulfilling journeys I've had in my writing career. I hope I met any of your expectations even the slightest amount, and I will most definitely share when I start posting the second book.

Love you all, Sydney.