Page 29 of Edging Coach
I couldn’t do that to him.
Lous and I wrapped up our meeting. I thanked him for his insights, and he left the office. Alone, I pinned my two lists to my corkboard with the players we’d discussed highlighted and starred. Then I sat back and stared at Devon’s name. That piece of paper wouldn’t mean much to anyone who came into my office. At most, they’d figure out exactlywhat the lists meant—that I had my eye on certain players to go to Vancouver.
No one needed to know it was a black-and-white reminder of why I had to keep things professional with Devon.
It didn’t matter that he did things I hadn’t known I needed.
It didn’t matter that I craved his touch.
What mattered was the career path laid out in front of Devon.
Nothing he did to me in bed was worth what it would do to his career.
“Let’s keep it up!” I shouted to the boys in the locker room. “We’ve got one period left. They’re getting pissed and they’re going to get chippy, but what are we doing to do?”
“Playourgame!” the team replied in enthusiastic unison.
“And when they try to goad us into fighting?”
“Don’t take the bait!”
“When they play dirty?”
“Punish them on the scoreboard!”
I smiled and gave them all a sharp nod. “Let’s get out there and do it!”
They cheered, got up, and started filing back out to the ice.
Amy watched them go. Turning to me, she said, “Two games in, and you’ve already changed the whole vibe. That’s impressive.”
I chuckled. “To be fair, going from a 9-1 blowout to a 5-2 lead is good for morale.”
“It is,” she said as we followed the team. “But we haven’t scored five goals in a single game all season. What few wins we had were one-goal games with us scoring maybe two or three.”
“Well, let’s hope it continues like this.” I paused. “And let’s hope they can hold the lead.”
She grimaced and held up crossed fingers.
5-2 was a solid lead, but this sport was incredibly unforgiving if a team took its foot off the gas. There was nothing more dangerous than thinking we had it in the bag, especially when there was still an entire period left to play. It was great when you were on the team that took advantage, took the lead, and won while your opponents stood there like“what the fuck just happened?”Being on the team that blew the lead—yeah, that sucked.
And it was extra stressful as the coach because I couldn’t actually get out there and put a puck in a net. All I could do was guide my team from the bench and hope they got the job done.
Out on the ice, both team’s top lines and top D pairs set up for the faceoff. Arvy was a little too eager, and the ref booted him out of the circle. Lous skated up to take his place, promptly won the faceoff, and passed the puck.
It was intercepted by an opposing skater, and just like that, the action was moving toward our defensive zone. Their odd-man-rush was deadly, and I just prayed my boys could head them off and?—
Devon was suddenly tearing back the other direction… with the puck on his stick.
The players who’d been rushing our zone were suddenly on his heels. One was nearly on him when Lous called for the puck, and Devon shouldered the guy out of the way before passing to the captain.
I’d barely blinked before Lous was at the blue paint and the puck was in the back of the net.
Even as I cheered with the team, I was still trying to make sense of what had happened.
“This kid’s incredible.” Amy handed me one of the iPads. “There’s no way we’re keeping him once Vancouver catches wind of him.”
I peered at the screen and pressed play. The video showed what happened from a different angle—Gards had been crowding one of the opposing players, trying to poke-check the puck away, and the player had passed it to another forward.
