“Good news travels fast around here.” I shouldn’t be surprised, but all the same, I give thanks my cheeks are already flushed from the cold. “It would’ve been easier if we’d started three weeks ago, but I understand why you wanted to wait until training camp was over.”
He quirks a brow. “Which isn’t to say you agree with the decision.”
“The extra time would’ve been far more valuable than the effort I invested in players who didn’t make the final roster.” I shrug. “These things take time. There isn’t a quick fix.”
Coach sighs. “Tell me about it. We’ve tried everything. New drills. Changing lines. Trades. Nothing has made a damn bit of difference.”
McGinnis takes a puck to the back, and a new round of squabbling starts up.
“See what I mean?”
I laugh. “That’s because the problem isn’t with their skills, it’s with their mindset. They need to get uncomfortable, or they’re never going to break out of this slump.”
“Can you call it a slump when it lasts for an entire season?”
“That’s your call, not mine.”
“Fair enough.” He stands and stretches his back. “But if any of these knuckleheads give you trouble, you let me know and I’ll straighten them out.”
I know he’s trying to be supportive, but it’s feels like he doesn’t see me as a grown woman, capable of handling whatever life throws my way.
“Yeah, because that will definitely build trust.” The team begins to clear the ice, and I climb to my feet. “I’ve got this, Coach. Trust me.”
11
KNOX
Openingnight always brings a kind of frenetic energy, and tonight is no exception. The locker room hums with excitement, and I close my eyes, soaking it in. A new season is a blank slate with the potential for a playoff run and, ultimately, a chance to vie for the Cup.
But it’s way too early to be thinking about the playoffs.
Right now, we just need a win. One win that we can string into two. Two wins we can leverage for momentum.
This early in the season, it’s all about building confidence, on the team and in the stands.
We’re playing the Hurricanes tonight. They’re a good team, and our division rivals, so pulling off a win would be huge.
The door of the locker room swings open, and the roar of the crowd drifts in. It’s just what I need to get my blood pumping. To remind me why I love the game—and all its idiosyncrasies—so much.
Hockey players are known for being superstitious, and this team is no exception. All around me, guys are locked into their pregame rituals.
On my left, Smitty sits with his eyes closed and his headphones on. The volume is so loud, I can pick out the guitar riff fromWelcome to the Jungle. He’s completely in the zone, his entire body rocking to the beat of the music.
To my right, D-Vo is taping his stick, and there’s a good chance he’ll do it again before he takes the ice. The guy goes through more tape than anyone I know, but I can’t fault him for being a perfectionist.
The newest member of our team, Kristiansen, sits in front of his stall with his hands braced on his knees. At first, I think he’s talking to one of the guys, but no, he’s whispering something to himself. Probably a mantra or affirmations. Lots of guys do it, but I wouldn’t have pegged the bruiser as being the type.
Bouchard, however, is. Our goalie’s completed his extensive meditation and has moved onto juggling. Tennis balls fly through the air in a circular pattern I couldn’t match on my best day. He’s got quick hands, and we’re going to need them tonight. Carolina was hot in the preseason and in a matter of minutes, he’ll be facing down eighty-mile-per-hour snappers.
McGinnis is, as usual, running his mouth, chirping everyone who passes by his stall.
“I was aiming for a hat trick tonight, but then I thought, why not make it four?” He catches my eye and smirks. “That’s the record for a rookie debut, right? What do you think, Cap?”
“The record is five, wiseass.” I shoot him a dark look. “And I think you’ll be riding the bench if you don’t lock the fuck in.”
The room erupts in laughter, and McGinnis flips me off with his typicalzero fucks givengrin.
Must be nice.