“How does it feel to be the only woman in what is basically a boys club?”
Tamsyn turns the question over in her head for a moment before responding, trying to think of a diplomatic way to diffuse the odd tension in the room. Latts is giving her a weird look over the head of the three beat reporters in front of her. “Yeah, you know… you’re right, there might not be any other girls on the Caps right now, but we’ve got some female talent in Hershey cookin’ up and I’m sure we’ll be seeing some of them recalled for a good solid look in no time.”
“But it must get lonely.”
Tamsyn shrugs. “I’ve always gotten along well with the boys. Obviously I can hold my own with them. Don’t really get pushed around much,” Tamsyn grins. She knows her penalty minutes better than the average statistician. “And it’s not like I’m the only girl in the league. You know, Kaner and Sid and Staalsie lead the way. I’m not saying it’s easy but I definitely wasn’t the first.”
“Do you ever talk with them?”
Tamsyn laughs at the absurdity. “They’re superstars, man. I’m just trying to make a difference for my team right now.”
The interview gets posted and a few days later, she does receive a text from Jordan Staal that reads never too busy to talk to a fan, which is an obvious chirp but now Tamsyn has Jordan’s number, and if she did ever need her help, Tamsyn could reach out.
Which is nice.
Strange as fuck, but nice.