05-13-2009, 05:50 PM
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#1
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Rookie
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Taras Novoseltsev- BAP Goalie Story.
Taras Novoseltsev- BAP Goalie Story.
(Note: Use of real life names is not to be taking literally. This is a work of fiction. Thank you. Stats and story is based off each game. Difficulty is set to SuperStar.)
Walking out the plane that had flown half across the world, I was in new a new territory, and a foreign culture. During the plane ride, I had studied some English phrases and words to say to the coach in hopes to impress him. I found this activity, impossible because I didn’t know how to pronounce the letters let alone the words. But this wouldn’t matter, I would be fortunate to be provided with a translator for my first NHL/AHL meeting. I was meeting Brian Blue, my new “agent” as the Americans call them.
When I arrived in but I was still excited to be there to play hockey.
Once the plane stopped moving and we could rise from our seats, I gathered my bag from underneath my seat, and began walking through the airplane corridor to my new life.
“Ah, here he is, our new star,” exclaimed Blue, who was already waiting for me along with a translator, who was a fair looking older woman. I could tell by her the way she stood that she was from the city, and that I was from the farm in Ukraine. She had expensive bracelets on her wrists, something that she sure wouldn’t have had on in Ukraine; America must have served her well. Brian Blue was the typical American that I have seen in movie pictures back home. He wore an expensive suit, dark sunglasses, and had gold rings on both of his ring finger. I bore a quick sneak at them, and immediately doubted his worth.
“Brian Blue.” He reached out his hand to shake mine, and I returned the gesture carefully.
“Privet,” I said to both of them, Blue knew that I didn’t speak of English. I turned to Brian Blue and spoke. “Приємно познайомитися.” He said, that “it is nice to meet you”, said the female interruptor to Brian.
“Tell him that I am excited that he is here and that he will do well in Pittsburgh,” Blue said.
“Almost forgot, this is Olesya, she will be translating for the meeting with your coach today.” Olesya relayed his message to me, and I asked her what time the meeting would be. It’s at 4:00 kid, we have an hour to get their, I rented a limousine for us to get to the meeting. “I have never been in a limousine before.” Olesya chuckled. “Welcome to America, she told me as pulled open the door to the car. I slowly got in, and was struck by all the gadgets in the back seat.
“How long will it take us to get their?” I asked Olesya, who relayed my question to Brian. “Hm, about 45 minutes, depends on traffic.” After Olesya explained this to me, I sighed and decided to shut my eyes for the rest of the trip. I didn’t get much sleep on the plane from Kiev to Pittsburgh. I was abruptly woken up from my nap, when I felt the limo stop with a shake. “We’re here”, said Brian anxious to get the meeting started.
We excited the limo slowly, and walked to a tall office building with dark doors. The inside of the building was mainly made of marble; I could not get over the texture of the building. It almost looked like a castle or some sort of important building. Was all of this just for me? We reached the elevator and Brian pushed the button for floor 7. We got out of the elevator and walked to a large room, with a little windows scattered along the walls. The sunshine from outside shined on my back, and I became a little hot.
“Have a seat please,” said Brian, who had taken a seat across from us at his desk. He looked at his watch and blurted out the coach should be here any minute. There was quiet knock on the door, and Rich Hixon the president of the Wilkes-Barre Scranton Penguins entered along with Ray Shero the GM and head coach Dan Bylsma.
I stood up to greet the men with a smile, as they came closer to me, and eventually shook my hand. We stayed standing until, head coach Bylsma finally spoke towards Brian. “I understand that English will be a problem for him.” “Not the least bit, he has a translator, Olesya”. Olesya smiled and greeted the men with firm hand shakes and then sat back down. “Gentlemen have a seat, we are here to sign a great goalie to a great team today,” said Brian. I took my seat as Brian passed me a piece of paper that was the terms of my contract on it. Olesya translated what was on the contract for me perfectly, and in no time I signed at the bottom of the line.
“Good to have you on the team,” said Bylsma, now, I have high expectations of what you can do. My scouts have seen you play over in Russia and they were impressed. But here playing in a American hockey league, is a new ballgame.” “My expectations for you are that you need to be able to suit up for 45 games this season. We need you to win 21 of those 45 games,” and your contract with the penguins will start at 30,000 dollars, the maximum of what is allowed to be paid to players. Bylsma spoke slowly so that Olesya could translate. “Your hotel and rooming expenses are part of your contract also,” said GM Ray Shero. “When the team is playing at home, you will be staying at a team hotel, unless you have somewhere else to stay.” I then told Olesya that I didn’t, and Shero told her that I would be driven to and back from the games each day, along with the hotel that I would be staying at.
I told Olesya, to tell Mr. Bylsma, that I agreed to his terms, and that I am excited to be able to play hockey here in America.” “Good, I can’t wait to see what you can do out there on the ice kid,” Bylsma reassured me, “let’s hope that you can improve this team.” It wasn’t long till all of the paperwork was done. I had a lot of pictures taken with Bylsma, Shero, and Hixon at the end of the meeting.
“Thank to you,” I said in my best English phrase to all of the men. We all shook hands at the end of the meeting, even Olesya partook in the gesture.
“Practice is at 5 am, on Monday, be there ready to work your butt off,” said Bylsma before he left the room behind Ray and Rich. I couldn’t wait till Monday to play.
The limo took me and my lonely bag back to the hotel where I would be staying for home games. It wasn’t a nice hotel, but it would do for a hockey player. No. A tough hockey player from Ukraine is more like it. When I reached my room, I noticed that I didn’t have a roommate.
I walked towards my new room, closed the door, and threw my beaten up sports bag onto the bed. I thought to myself. “So this is the life.” I fell asleep almost immediately after hitting the bed.
Last edited by TarasNovoseltsev; 05-14-2009 at 07:56 AM.
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