Grounded

Chapter Three Beijing

Nearly three years had passed since that morning on the clifftop at Whitby, and in that time James’ life had changed dramatically. Most of which for the better. With Lincoln’s recommendation to his brother, he had been able to get an interview with the head coach for the GB ice hockey team. A team still very much in its infancy as it was not a widely played sport in the UK. So the pool of talented players had gone elsewhere, resulting in the team being spread mainly between the USA and Canada leagues.

James and Cole, the head coach, had hit it off immediately. James had not even felt like it was an interview. If he was being honest with himself, something he tried his best to be these days. He had gone to that interview not expecting to get the job at all, being from a non-hockey background, never held any kind of coaching position before, couldn’t skate, and more than likely would be younger than some of the players. So because of all of this James had walked into that interview with low expectations, but high confidence as always in himself. And ended up walking away with a new job and a very good friend.

Getting the job had given him that mental boost he had so dearly needed. It was exactly as he had been trying to tell the doctor when he was at rehab, he needed to have a purpose. Sitting in that place for endless days with nothing around him changing had helped to a point but, slowly, eventually, it would have become a detriment to his health. And now that he was employed that was it for him, no more looking back at his former life. It didn’t matter anymore.

In the three years since joining the team. James had proven to Cole he had been right to take that chance on him. He had got the team fitter, eating better, and with a new attitude. Cole had found him so invaluable, he had promoted him to assistant coach. James would be first to say all this improvement in the team wasn’t just him, but the rest of the team would argue that James brought a fire and a discipline that had shaken up the whole lot of them, from the players to the other coaches. And now because of that, and the hard work put in by the whole team, they had qualified to compete in the winter Olympics. THE Olympics.

So now they were going to China. Right now.

On a plane, across half the world.

James didn’t really like this form of transport. It was too out of his control. He liked magical forms of travel better; they tended to be much faster, with a lot more legroom. Muggle flying never made him feel very comfortable, the cabin pressure would mess with his equilibrium. Despite him not having any problems with his balance for well over a year now, being on an airplane always made him feel the way he did those days when he was never sure of his own two feet. 

He politely declined the hostess trolley when it came round offering the complimentary drink, but did indulge in a packet of tiny and overpriced nuts. The seats were not uncomfortable but still, he couldn’t settle, he looked around the chartered flight, a sea of red, white, and blue tracksuits in their own little pod-like chairs, to see if anyone else was as nervous as he was. 

Most were already deeply into their own world with headphones and eye masks on or looking into the tv screens. James had flicked through the offered channels but nothing had caught his eye. The films were not the type of thing he liked, not one romantic comedy or underdog sports redemption among them. It was a shame he had foolishly decided to save weight and not put any books in his hand luggage, a rookie mistake. He didn’t dare look at any of the magazines sitting in the neat little pocket, not yet, he was going to save them for as long as possible. He spun around again, his fingers digging into the armrest as the plane seemed to dip slightly. 

'Will you please stop twitching and chill.' Cole muttered at him from his chair beside him without moving anything other than his lips, he was wearing his eye mask and headphones and looking like he was completely at ease and soundly asleep, but either he had been woken by James’ nervous energy, or had been pretending until now to get some peace. Either way was most definitely possible.  

'I’m sorry, I just can’t fly like this, in this tin can.' James fretted and Cole chuckled which did nothing to improve James’ mood. ‘What’s amusing you?’

‘James Potter, the most confident man I have ever met in my entire life, brought down by flying in an airplane. I have some kalms in my bag, take one it will help.’ James considered this for a moment then declined. He knew it wasn’t much of anything but he wanted to sit this through and cope as best he could on his own. A practice in self-discipline.

‘I’ll be okay, I just need to do my breathing exercises. It’s been so long since I’ve flown I forgot how much it stresses me out.’

‘I get it, you’re a control freak. To be honest, I’m surprised this is the first time you are flying with the team, I really don’t know how you got away with it up until now.’

‘Sometimes I just wasn’t considered to be essential, or it was possible for me to use other methods. But China is a lot further than I have ever traveled before, and it’s in the rules that teams must travel together. So, here I am.’

‘Well I for one am glad to have you with me and hey, it’s only another ten hours of flying to go. Before the layover.’ He quipped making James groan, and Cole laugh. ‘Here, take this, or do you have your own?’ he offered, taking out his small mp3. Knowing Cole’s taste in music James didn’t think he would ever be that desperate.

“I do.’ James suddenly remembered, in all the stress he had forgotten to put them on. He fished the tiny neat case of his wireless earphones out of his pocket, selected his meditation playlist from his phone, and paid attention to his breathing as his body relaxed into the seat.

It would be nice to say the hours just flew by, but a flight from London to Beijing was as long and as tedious as anyone would expect. But James didn’t panic, not once. Not even a little.

James had never been more pleased to be standing on the ground again. Beijing airport was massive and so clean and bright. The whole place seemed to be made of glass, metal, and endless corridors of grey carpet. Everyone else seemed to be just as pleased as he was. Many of the athletes were taking the opportunity to stretch out cramped muscles as they waited in baggage claim, others were already on their phones to friends and family back home, or taking selfies. Josh waved him over so he could hear from Lincoln, who just basically repeated his instructions to James once more to look out for his brother and keep him from doing anything stupid. James assured his friend as best he could all while the twenty two year old Josh grinned at him mischievously.

When they were ready to get on the bus they all left together as a team, James wondered if this would be the way the whole time they were in China. He certainly hoped not. He definitely wanted to have the chance to explore this vastly different city without having to be the chaperone to players the same age as him. As they came through the arrivals gate there was an array of cameras and press awaiting the whole Team GB squad. James tagged along at the back of his team with a cluster of other coaches. Nobody was here to take his picture and he made sure he stayed out of the way. The undoubted star of the GB Olympic squad was probably the skeleton bob slayer, Maisie Dickson. She certainly had plenty of attention as she stood and smiled for the cameras, answering the questions from the journalists. James saw a few disappointed faces on his team as they just casually walked through without being asked to stop by any press. He made a mental note to remind them, that getting here was their gold medal. Being in this place was an experience of a lifetime, and they were going to get to enjoy it without the kind of scrutiny that the likes of Maisy was going to have to deal with. At least at first, until their matches started, then, depending on how they did. That was when things could change.

‘Come on!’ he yelled, as yet again the forwards did not line up their formation correctly, causing the defence to take out the puck carrier easily, if sloppily. As non-contact as they were trying to be during their practice, the forward still crashed onto the ice hard. ‘That’s another ten reps in the gym. What’s up with you all today? You all know this stuff.’

‘They are jet-lagged and overwhelmed’ Came a southern drawling accent from behind him. James turned to see an aristocratic looking man standing a few feet away. He had pale skin and a long elegantly slim nose, his angled features and high cheekbones gave him looks similar to those he had seen in that fashion magazine on the plane. His long dark hair and noble features did not look right with the red and white team Canada tracksuit. ‘It takes time, that’s why they make sure everybody arrives days early. A fairer chance for everyone.’ He gave a slight shrug, ‘It’s the Olympic way’

James nodded in casual understanding. ‘‘I suppose I didn't factor that in my notes for today.’ He scratched his head ‘I’m feeling it too, but I thought if I can push through so can they.’

‘They probably could,’ he agreed, ‘but you’re not the one on the ice being hit.’ he looked at his watch. ‘I hate to be rude but you are about to go over your time, and my skater does not like to be observed when she is still jet-lagged. I would appreciate the courtesy of clearing the ice.’

James checked his own watch and realised it was still on UK time, and the clock on the scorecard was about fifteen mins off if his mental calculation was correct. ‘My apologies...’ he paused looking for this fellow coach to fill the gap with his own name.

‘Sirius.’ he obliged. James whistled to his team and waved to them to get off the ice, their morale seemed to instantly lift. That was until they walked past their coach and saw his face.

‘Don’t think I'm going to forget this shit show you just gave me today, oh no way in hell boys.’ He growled at them trying his best to sound the same way that Cole did whenever he chewed them out. As they left in the direction of the showers and were no longer in earshot he smiled at Sirius and offered his hand. ‘I’m James.’ Sirius accepted his hand and shook it with a firm grip. James was surprised to feel a calloused hand, not unlike his own. The Canadian coach gave him an appraising look.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, and your team James. I’m sure we will see each other again tomorrow.’

‘I look forward to it.’ James replied and knew he meant it.

The athlete’s village was truly a spectacular sight to behold. So many countries were represented. While not as big as the summer games there was still a significant number. Of all the places to spend time James' favourite was by far the food hall. It had a dazzling array of dishes, available at any time it seemed. For as self-disciplined as he had become about his mental health, fitness, and work ethic. Food had become something he allowed himself to indulge in. 

It was also a great place to meet and mingle with all types of people. He had been told by some of the other GB coaches that had been to many Olympics that there was a different vibe with the athletes staying at the mountain, and when they came back to the village after their events were over the party vibe started to kick in pretty strong. 

For now, everyone was professional and on their best behavior, the opening ceremony was starting next week and the atmosphere was something he recognised as that feeling just before a championship game. It was fascinating to him to see so many different people from all sorts of sporting disciplines sharing that same attitude while mingling in the shared spaces.

James loved feeding off this energy, he loved sitting in the center of the mass of tables and working through his notes, as the rest of this world swirled around him. 

“Good lord James. Do you ever stop working?’ James heard the clatter of cutlery hitting his table before the voice, he barely glanced up to see Cole taking a seat opposite him.

‘Well I have to be prepared just in case you decide to throw even more at me. Not that I’m complaining.’ He added quickly. Cole just snorted and stirred his pasta, before looking at the single mug in front of James.

‘I hope you’ve eaten today. I don’t want to start checking up on you as often as I do the team.’

‘Relax coach, we all had a proper breakfast before we went down to the ice, and I’m telling you now they are still not where they need to be.’ he dropped his pen so he could take off his glasses and rub his eyes. ‘They should be over the jet-lag by now, I know it’s a big adjustment to everything. We need to push them through it, and work together. You just know none of the other teams will be resting up.’

Cole paused mid mouthful to listen to James, he put down his fork with a wry smile. ‘James you are talking like we are a gold medal team. I think you have to bring your expectations down a peg or six.’ He chuckled, taking up his fork again and moving his pasta about the plate. ‘I appreciate the attitude, and you won’t hear me say this in front of the team, but if we get out of the group we will have beaten all my expectations, and our projected target if I’m being honest.’ James was going to argue his point but Cole cut him off. ‘You have to realise this is the first UK team that has made it this far in a very, very, long time. By just getting here we have already met our target, if we get past the group stages you can expect our funding to improve at least. I’m just hoping for a good run of things and we don’t embarrass ourselves.’

‘I don’t care about what our expected goal is. I don’t care if we are competing at the Olympics, or against the part-time team at the ice rink in the next town over. I will push them to believe they can beat anyone and everyone. Because that is how we get out of the group, that is how we go on improving. The only way you get fitter and stronger is if you push yourself further every time.’ Cole went to speak back but paused as if he was reconsidering. 

‘I get that, and a large part of the job you do for this team is motivational. And I really appreciate that James, I really do. I want them to be good and strong and ready to fight, but you must not give them any kind of unrealistic expectations.’

‘Don’t worry coach, I’ll make sure I keep their feet firmly on the ground.’ He didn’t want Cole to see that he was rather annoyed at his lack of ambition in this competition. It was a completely alien concept to James to be so okay with being average. His mood severely dented, he left the food court to find a more quiet place to work on his notes.

There was never a lack of seats at the ice rink. Not yet anyway. Next week this place was going to be bursting with the all too familiar sights, sounds, and smells of a hyped up crowd. James liked the layout of this facility, the way every seat had a perfect view and it didn’t even feel cold away from the ice. He had never been in any kind of rink set up as big as this one, the scale of it all could be quite intimidating if you let yourself think about it too much. He really couldn’t wait for this place to be full of people cheering and shouting. It was always something that he enjoyed being a part of.

“You appear to be missing your team.” a voice drawled from behind him. James turned and recognised the coach who he had met at that first terrible practice on this ice, standing on the steps between the rows of chairs looking at him with subtle amusement. James didn’t hesitate to move a seat over so that Sirius could join him.

“They are enjoying some free time, and hopefully behaving themselves,” James replied brightly. “Also the head coach is working with them today.” He tried to lean back and adopt as relaxed a pose as his counterpart, but the seats were unforgiving plastic, so he just had to settle for a slight sideways tilt. “Believe it or not I don’t spend every waking moment watching my team, even though it might feel like that sometimes.” Sirius nodded thoughtfully. 

“I do wonder sometimes what it would be like to work with an entire team of people, to remember all the traits of all of them. I much prefer the one on one approach, much easier to fine tune the details.” James snorted a laugh.

“Perhaps you are right. But I’ve never had trouble keeping track, for me, it’s all about who needs pushing and by how much.” He looked over his notes that were exactly that, the players who needed to ease up and those who needed to be pushed. He had expected Sirius to respond but when he didn’t he looked up from his notes and saw that the coach’s attention was firmly on the ice, on the solitary figure that was gliding serenely around wearing the same red and white track Jacket that Sirius was on top, and sparkling tights covering her legs. Her dark red hair stood out against the mainly white backdrop. James watched as she jumped, spun in the air, and landed perfectly in a blink, but he heard a critical tut from the man sitting beside him. James watched on, completely entranced by her movements, only being slightly brought out of the spell by the subject’s coach muttering beside him.

She made every single move look effortless, her balance as she swept past where they were sitting, gliding on one foot with her arms spread wide, her dark red ponytail whipping around as she moved. He thought she would be smiling but her face was a stone mask of concentration.

“I’ve never needed to push Lily to do anything.” Sirius finally responded standing back up, “What I need her to do is not expect absolute perfection every damn time.” James didn’t see what had happened as he had been looking at Sirius, but he heard the string of expletives coming from the ice. He turned to see the source of the imaginative language pick herself up then glare up in their direction. James had never experienced such a stare, it pinned him to his seat. That girl was furious.

“Calm down, you were pushing it and over-rotated.” The glare seemed to have no effect on the calmly confident man as he strode towards the edge of the rink away from James. “You have to remember to…” the words drifted out of James’ hearing as the figure skater's gaze locked with her coach as they continued to discuss things out of his knowledge even if he could hear what they were saying, he knew very little about figure skating at all. He considered Sirius’ words about coaching one on one, and then considered what it would be like to compete in a sport where all the pressure was solely on your own skill. It was not a pleasant thought. 

James’ watch bleeped at him bringing him out of his thoughts.

TEAM MEETING 15 MINS

He collected up his papers and trotted back up the steps to the exit, looking at nothing but his feet as he did so. If he had taken another glance back at the ice he might have noticed a pair of curious eyes watching him.