Page 3 of Worth the Risk
I walk the three blocks to the arena. I’m so glad my Aunt Caroline suggested I stay at her apartment for the time being. Being able to walk to work is a definite plus. I have a car, but the drivers here are absolutely crazy. All traffic laws seem to be suggestions, and it’s incredibly disconcerting. Atlanta at rush hour pales in comparison to the chaos in Denver at any time of day. I’m sure when it snows it’ll be complete mayhem.
I find the entrance Uncle Bennett told me to use, and head inside.
“May I help you?” the security guard asks courteously.
“Yes, hello. My name is Hannah Beauregard. I’m starting work here today. My uncle Bennett Davenport is supposed to meet me here, I think,” I stammer nervously. For as good as I am on social media, my in-person people skills suck.
“Ahh, yes. Welcome, Ms. Beauregard. Coach Davenport told me you’d be coming in today. I’ll call him and let him know you’re here,” he says warmly, as he picks up the phone. “Hey Coach, your niece is here.”
I look around the small employee entrance and see a few framed photos. Some are of hockey, and some are of basketball. The arena is shared by the Wolves and the NBA basketball team, the Colorado Altitude. I start to walk over to take a closer look at a hockey team pic, when a door opens.
“Hey kiddo,” my uncle says, opening his arms to give me a hug.
“Hi Uncle Bennett,” I say quietly.
“You settling in at Caroline’s place okay?” he asks, and I nod. I’m not telling him about my run-in with the neighbor. He’d probably want to come over, and that would be all kinds of embarrassing.
“Yep, settling in just fine.”
“Okay. Let me give you a really quick tour and then get you to HR so you can fill out all the employment forms. I have a conference call in about an hour, so I can’t give you any more time than that. We can meet later today, or tomorrow, for a more in depth tour, okay?” he says, gesturing for me to walk through the doorway and into the tunnels beneath the arena.
My uncle talks a million miles a minute, and I’m barely focusing. I know next to nothing about hockey, but I can smell it. I can smell the ice. And it’s intoxicating. I can almost feel the blades gliding across the ice. I’ve never been ice skating either, but I’m almost giddy thinking about attempting it now. Hell, I’ve never even been to a hockey game. This is all brand new.
As we walk through the hallways, he points out a variety of different rooms. I’m slightly taken aback by the barren nature of the facility. This doesn’t seem like a world-class institution that pays athletes millions of dollars to skate around and beat each other up. Okay, I know that’s a novice opinion, and an over simplification. I must have a disgruntled look on my face, because my uncle chuckles.
“Confused?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah, actually,” I admit with a sheepish smile. “The college had a better setup than this. Are you sure this is the NHL?”
“This is just where they play, Han. This isn’t where they practice. The majority of the time they’re at a different facility. That place has all the bells and whistles you expected,” he explains.
“Okay, well, where is that? And where will I be working?” I ask. I was under the assumption I’d be at the arena all the time.
“The practice facility is about a mile from here. It’s a huge complex with other sports fields. Baseball fields, lacrosse, you name it. And in regards to where you’ll be working, you go where the team goes. If they’re practicing, you are with them. If they’re getting ready at the arena, you’re there too. You know you’ll travel with them on occasion, right?”
My jaw drops open. Obviously, I didn’t know that.
“What? Seriously?” I am not the best traveler. In fact, I’m petrified of flying. The only reason I was able to complete my job at Georgia State was because they only traveled half the games, and many were driving distance. In four years as their social media manager, I only flew six times. And of those six, I had four panic attacks. The other two times one of my co-workers basically knocked me out with a Xanax.
“Hannah, are you still afraid of flying?” my uncle asks. I don’t even have to answer him. I can feel the blood draining from my face. “Shit. I thought you would have gotten over this by now. Well, you’re gonna need to figure something out. Forty-one away games, Han. You have to be at a chunk of them.”
I nod slowly as a wave of nausea overtakes me. I guess it never occurred to me that hockey is a much more involved sport, and the schedule is intense. Of course there would be traveling.
“Listen. I have a therapist. Let me call her and see if she can fit you in this month, and get you some kind of anxiety medication or something. You gotta get over this, Hannah. You can’t work this kind of job anywhere in this field without being able to fly,” my uncle says.
“I know. I know! I just … I guess I didn’t think I’d have to go everywhere with the team,” I say softly.
“We’ll figure this out. Let’s finish this tour and then I’ll take you up to HR. You can get your paperwork filled out while I go to my meeting. We can grab lunch before heading over to the practice facility to show you the ropes over there.”
After what felt like an hour of paperwork and guidelines being discussed in Human Resources, Uncle Bennett grabs us some lunch from a food truck, and we head to the practice facility. He tells me it’s just referred to as the Sports Facility Zone. The massive building houses a practice rink, administrative offices, a couple of gift shops, a food court, indoor golf, and even an entertainment complex. Baseball and lacrosse fields outside seem to go on for miles.
Uncle Bennett leads me in a side door near a private parking lot for Wolves players and employees. We enter into a spacious lobby with multiple security guards standing before an elevator.
“Gentlemen, this is my niece Hannah Beauregard. She is the new social media coordinator, so she’ll be coming and going throughout the day,” my uncle introduces me. The men all smile warmly at me, or at least attempt to smile. They all look mean and miserable, which I guess is a good thing for security. I smile back at them and drop my head to look at the floor. I’m overwhelmed.
My uncle shows me how to use my brand-spanking-new ID to access the elevator, and we zoom up a couple of floors to the administration wing. I’m introduced to a handful of people, all of whose names I’ve already forgotten, and then Uncle Bennett deposits me into my new office.
“This is yours. I need to go check on something, so stay here for a minute.” He jogs off down the hallway, and I turn to take in my new office.