Page 57 of The Trophy

I almost step in to tell him to shut the fuck up, but I know Blaze and while he’s usually pretty good at keeping his temper under control, when he gets going, it’s like watching a volcanic eruption.

Ironically, this is what makes him an excellent enforcer; he picks his battles, but his fame precedes him and our adversaries know that if they push him too much, there’s gonna be hell to pay.

“One fucking thousand percent,” Topher antagonizes him. “I kept signaling to you and Luca and you two kept pretending I wasn’t even there.”

Debatable.

I might have been far away in the crease, but Topher was constantly out of sync with the rest of his offensive line.

“Che cazzo dici (what the fuck are you talking about)? I think you need a fucking eye test,” Luca backs Blaze. “Actually, no. Scratch that. You need a fucking lobotomy if you think Blaze and I are the problem. You were always behind. Always out of sync. Every time I tried to find you, you were either too slow or too fast and you put me in offside more than once by not checking my position when I had the puck.”

Blaze agrees. “That’s right. You might have not stolen the puck from one of us, but you should have worn a USC jersey, because Fuck knows you weren’t playing for us last night.”

“Bullshit!” Topher yells. “I?—”

“You,” Coach Harrison is practically purple. “You are the reason why we’re here! Not just Mumford, the three of you.”

Silence descends on the arena, to the point that we could hear the ice melt if that was a possibility.

I think it’s totally unfair that Blaze and Luca are getting in trouble when Topher has been on a mission to sabotage our team since the game in LA. Last night however, he was more devious and rather than openly causing problems. He hindered our team’s game just enough to make Luca and Blaze look as bad as he really was.

So while I’m sympathetic with my teammates, I can see where Coach is coming from.

The issue is that it looks like Topher’s antics are getting us all in trouble, despite winning last night.

The extent of the trouble we’re all in doesn’t dawn on me, until Coach gets his assistants to open the bags I noticed earlier at his feet.

At first I don’t understand what I’m looking at but I immediately figure it out when I’m handed one of the bags the coaching team is passing to all of us.

“Are we getting goodie bags?” Jagger smiles, checking inside it. “Wait, these aren’t freebies. Why are you giving us bags full of pucks, Coach?”

“Put those on, gentlemen,” Coach smiles with a sadistic glint that doesn’t promise anything good. “Wear it like a rucksack.”

“This bag weighs a ton,” Tucker complains, hiking the straps over his shoulders. “What are we supposed to do with these on?”

I know the answer even before Coach explains. “You’re going to be carrying those bags during today’s skating drills. Do you want to play like individuals and not like the team you should be? Be my guests and skate solo. You’ll start from that end and skate the length of the rink. Turn around there and keep two neat lines. If there are any collisions, you’re gonna be sorry. There are dividers all over the course, so there’s no reason to get in the way of your teammates. You aren’t going to stop until I say practice is over.”

Didn’t I say before that Topher hasn’t learned the art of keeping his mouth shut?

“Are you making us bag skate?” he asks furiously. “I don’t get it. We won yesterday and in LA. What’s your fucking problem?—”

I intervene when I see the murderous look in Coach’s eyes. “It’s a punishment for not playing like a team on the ice. Shut up and get in line.”

“Who the fuck made you team captain, huh goalie?” Topher snaps. “Bag skating is an outdated practice. What if we get injured by skating to the point of exhaustion?”

Coach’s smile widens but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Bag skating is way more used than you think, Mumford. It improves your speed and endurance and it teaches you an effective lesson. If you don’t enjoy it, make sure you find the team spirit you seem to be lacking. But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

I can see the trap in that statement even before Coach has finished uttering the last word.

“I don’t?” he asks.

“If you don’t want to join today’s drills, that’s the door,” Coach says. “Leave but you better believe you’re off the team.”

The grim reality of today’s practice, begins to dawn on Topher. “No, I don’t want that.”

“Then skate until I tell you to stop, son,” Coach says. “And everyone better put all they have in these drills. If I find you’re being lazy and doing a half-ass job, you’re also off the team.”

We line up, starting to skate when Coach blows his whistle. “Remember gentlemen, don’t stop until I say so.”

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