She pressed up on her tiptoes to make herself taller and she kissed Frankie, keeping their hands clasped between their bodies over their hearts.
She had no idea what was going to happen next, if her relationship with Cam was as fractured as the slamming door made it, but nothing else mattered right now because Frankie was kissing her back.
Frankie was kissing her, they were in love, and hockey could wait.
Chapter 32
Tensions were high in the Harbour locker room during the first period intermission and Frankie met Cam’s eye from across the room. He quickly tore his gaze away as he opened a bottle of Gatorade and threw the lid off to the side. The teammate in the stall beside him leaned over to whisper something and Cam gave his head a firm shake.
“You expect me to look around this room right now and call you professionals?”
Neil was angry as he chomped on a wad of gum with his arms crossed in the centre of the room right below the team logo. It was a long standing tradition to never tread on the team logo and somewhere along the way, most teams made the switch from the logo being on the ground in the middle of their locker room, to the logo being a lighting fixture screwed into the ceiling above everyone.
“You can’t even pretend that you like each other and I will not allow any team of mine to behave the way you’ve been behaving. Like a bunch of snotty teenagers who don’t give a shit about anything. But this right here?” He pointedabove him at the bright shining lighthouse logo with a large blue H. “You need to give a shit about this.”
Frankie tightened her grip on what was left in the lineup sheet in her hand. She’d folded and unfolded it what felt like a hundred times over the span of the game so far. They hadn’t been put in a power play situation yet that and she’d be lying if she said part of her was relieved that she hadn’t been put in the spotlight. Her hope was for an easy game, an easy win, and a lot of simple plays, but things hadn’t panned out that way yet.
The problems with the team went beyond her or anything she could control and it was obvious that the rest of the coaching staff was losing their patience. They’d been on a good run as a team as of late and being down three goals to zip after one period at home was embarrassing.
“You’re really going to let that team come into our barn and make us look like this?” Neil shouted. “Absolutely not. I expect better of you in the second period and so does the rest of your leadership team.”
When they returned to their place behind the bench at the expiry of the intermission, Frankie looked for Jules and Sydney in the crowd, their seats beside each other in the friends and family section.
She assumed she’d find them looking back at her with a mixture of worry or concern written all over their faces but to her delight, they were laughing at something on Sydney’s phone and sharing a bag of popcorn.
It was a small relief on a frustrating evening, though the relief did not last long. When the away team scored a quick goal two minutes into the second period off a bad turnover at the blue line, it started to feel like things couldn’t get worse.
Until they did.
Luca Matthews, a core member of their defense, skated up behind a player on the away team near the boards behind the home net and in his efforts to steal the puck, elbowed the other player hard in the back of the head. The force of the hit sent him head first into the lower section of the boards and the sound of it rang out in the arena.
The crowd went silent as it happened, almost playing out in slow motion, and Frankie knew right away that they were about to lose one of their best players in a game where their defence was already struggling.
As expected, Luca was given a five minute major and a game misconduct for boarding and unsportsmanlike contact. The call meant he was ejected from the game and beside her on the bench, Neil was furious.
The only silver lining came five minutes later when the Harbour got their first power play opportunity. As frustrating as things had been up until that point, Frankie jumped into action as the players gathered around her on the bench.
This was her job, her time. Her special teams, her calls, her pressure to manage.
“Cam, you’re going to line up here,” she said, drawing a circle on a small white board. “And Mason is going to feed you the puck. Okay?”
Cam didn’t question her and only nodded in agreement. She drew something else on the whiteboard, directing players to their positions, telling them what they’d be doing to maximize their scoring chances. Within seconds, all of the pieces were put into place on the ice and her plan was put into action.
Her plan worked and the Harbour scored their only goal of the game thirty three seconds into the two minute power play. The high of scoring was quickly negated by the shrill sound of the final buzzer, the sound mixing with the frustrated noise of a fanbase who’d shown up that night wanting more than what they’d been given.
Did the loss disappoint Frankie? Absolutely. Did she still manage to feel a sense of pride and accomplishment at knowing the goal they did score was because of her coaching choices? If she didn’t, her job would never have any silver lining.
She’d learned early on in her professional career that she needed to find small victories whenever she could, and that rang true even more in the job she had now. If she didn’t celebrate the ways in which she herself won as a coach, the criticism and the judgement that came in from every direction would eat her alive.
The team’s performance and the buildup to it, the fight during their practice and the way her own players regarded her, was just as Neil said –unacceptable. Things couldn’t continue that way and if it affected the confidence Frankie needed to do her job and the belief of those around her, which it seemed to be doing, she needed to speak up or nothing would ever change.
Jules was right. Just because women had been treated this way in sports for years didn’t mean it had to be that way forever.
She found Neil in the hallway after the players finished their media availability and asked to speak with him privately. To say she was riddled with anxiety would be putting it lightly but something had to shift and if she could be the catalyst for change, even if it scared her, it was a good thing.
“So what’s this about, Frankie?” Neil asked as he slid into his seat behind a desk in the head coaching office at the arena.
Frankie sighed and slipped her hands into the pockets of the black suit she’d chosen to wear that night. Ironic, given the team lost so badly the game felt like a funeral.