Page 46 of Power Play

Trevor sighs and turns to watch the team run their games, obviously ignoring me. He’s a lot like me, and just being around hockey, whether at a game or even just watching the drills, can be calming. It feels like home. It’s probably time I thank Bernard again for getting me out here, and back to being a part of the ice.

“Wright needs to work on puck control. He’s all over the place, which is one of the reasons they kept losing possession last night,” Trevor says.

“I know. Him and Santana both need to work on it,” I tell him, watching them as well. “Hey, you watched the game?”

“Yeah, we were off last night so Miles and Harris came over to watch,” Trevor says with a smirk. “I made them enchiladas.”

“You fucker. You know I love those enchiladas,” I snap playfully.

“Yup. I do,” he quips. “Make sure they’re going for the rebounds. There’s been a lot of missed opportunities to take shots because no one’s there.”

“Yes, Dad, I know,” I grumble.

Ignoring me, Trevor just stares at my players. He obviously has something on his mind, which is confirmed when he quickly turns and faces me.

“Beer. Friday. After work. You and me. Meet me at Hudson’s at five,” he says quickly.

“I have to get Rory, I can’t,” I respond.

“I already spoke with Stell. She’s grabbing Rory and bringing her to your place. Cade offered to help and make Rory dinner.”

“Why did you plan all this out? What’s so important that you went through all that shit?” I question suspiciously.

“You. You’re that important and honestly, we’re all worried about you. You’re lucky you’re just getting me going out this time and not a full-on intervention. But we’ll get to all that Friday. You get back to practice, I’ll see you Friday at five.”

Before I can even respond, Trevor turns on his heel and walks away. But he turns back around with a grin before getting too far. “Your enchiladas are in your office. Ass hole.” Then he’s gone.

Shaking my head, I quickly head back to practice where they’re just finishing up their first game. They rotate teams and begin quickly, wasting no time.

I spend the next hour making a couple changes to the teams that are playing, testing out different dynamics and taking notes that I want to talk to my assistant coach and the captains about. I have a feeling some of the changes might cause a little friction.

Ending practice, the guys all walk out at a much slower pace than when they all came in. They had a grueling workout, so it’s not too surprising. I know they saw the same mistakes on the tapes that I saw, so hopefully, they trust me enough to know we’re making these changes for a reason. If they can take them seriously, our team could be great.

“Bye, coach. See you tomorrow,” Connor Mathews, my goalie, says on his way out.

“See you tomorrow. Great practice,” I tell him with a nod.

I’m finally about to walk out when I hear my name.

“Coach Lockwood. Wait up!” Max says from the locker room door.

Turning around to face him, I see him quickly heading out with his bag thrown over his shoulder. “Yeah, Max?”

“I just wanted to tell you it was great practice. A lot of the guys really liked what we did today and appreciated what you noticed on the tapes. I know they don’t always express that to your face, so I just wanted you to know,” Max says with a quick shrug.

I can’t help it. I smile. Not a big, normal person smile, but enough that my lips turn up.

This team has been tough to get to know, and it’s been even tougher getting them to trust me, so hearing this from Max means a lot.

“Thanks, Max. I appreciate it,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Of course.”

We turn and start to walk out, casually talking about our plans for the evening.

“I’m just heading out to go have dinner with my mom,” Max tells me.

“Are you and your mom close?”

---