Knox: Speaking of love, let’s hear it for Boosh! What a fuckin’ night.
Rousseau: All hail the man of quatre prénoms!
Bash: ???
Patterson: Didn’t you know? Boosh has four first names.
Bash: Get the fuck out. For real?
JoJo: Ethan Arthur Louis Sacha Bouchard.
Boosh: The A is for Alexandre, asshole. If you’re going to rag on me, at least get it right.
JoJo: Dammit. I was so close.
Lindy: Spoken like a true D-man.
Schultz: ??
22
AVA
Five…four…three…two…one.
The buzzer sounds and I shriek, pride and joy sluicing through my veins as the Gliders defeat the Kings 2-0.
From the comfort of my couch, I watch as the team celebrates on-screen. They rush Bouchard, surrounding the goalie with hugs and backslaps. It’s his first shutout of the season, and the excitement is infectious.
Heck, I’m nearly two thousand miles away, and even I can feel it.
For the first time, the Gliders actually look like a team. They played like one too. The passes were solid, there was no visible friction, and the celebrations were loud and authentic.
I’ve never been a proponent of violence, but when Kristiansen stepped up to defend McGinnis, I felt like a proud parent.
The work we did last weekend is clearly paying off. I didn’t get to watch practice this week since the team is traveling, but I held a number of productive virtual sessions. The guys are really starting to open up, and I’ve got individual coaching plans for nearly every single one of them now.
Davis and Sutter remain closed-off, but we’ll get there.
A grin splits my face, and I don’t even bother trying to fight it.
For the first time in weeks, it feels like things just might work out. If there’s any justice in the universe, my father and Banks are feeling it too.
A girl can dream…
I grab my phone and send Knox a congratulations text, even though he probably won’t see it for a while. It’s late and I’ll probably be asleep by the time he messages back, but at least he’ll know I saw the game and that I was thinking of him.
Using the remote, I shut off the TV before I stretch and shuffle to my bedroom to complete my nighttime routine.
By the time I crawl into bed, I’m exhausted. The highs and lows of the game have taken an emotional toll, and I’m ready to crash. I can only imagine how the guys feel after expending so much physical and mental energy.
Then again, they’re probably riding high on tonight’s win.
Rightfully so.
I couldn’t be prouder of Knox or the broader team. They earned it through hard work, dedication, and a willingness to trust the process. If they hadn’t been willing to get vulnerable—with me and with each other—I’m not sure they’d be celebrating a win tonight.
But they did win, and they deserve to celebrate.