Page 27 of Unlovable Player

I take a sharp inhale and am about to say something when a voice distracts me.

“Is this where we donate the toys?”

“Uh… yeah, thank you, just put them in one of those boxes down there.”

Practiseon Wednesday is supposed to be a gentle warm-up for the scrimmage later against Dartmouth. It’s supposed to be full of the spirit of giving and general good cheer and all that shit. But as soon as the locker room starts to fill up, I can feel the atmosphere building. It’s like an invisible line has been drawn in the room. Yale on one side and everyone else on the other. I’m somewhere in the middle, trying to keep the peace.

We go out onto the ice and take a few practise shots on goal before Coach sets some defense drills, putting Me, Gray and Yale in against Jordan and Hancock.

The forwards skate through the neutral zone and come up against Jordan, Hancock and Olivetti in goal. Gray passes to me and Hancock is on me so I pass to Yale. Jordan checks him into the boards and keeps him pinned while I fly in to retrieve the puck – something Jordan doesn’t even seem to care about. Gray is right behind me and I don’t hear what Yale says, but it pisses Jordan off because he skates back, unpinning him, and pulls his gloves off, squaring up for a fight.

Coach blows the whistle, but Jordan ignores it and shoves Yale back into the boards before pulling his own helmet off.

“Come on then rich boy, show me what you’ve got.”

Yale’s grinning at him andfor fucks sake.

I skate in between them, putting a hand to both their chests, though Yale is completely calm.

I don’t want it to seem like I’m on anyone’s side.

Coach comes down onto the ice in his loafers and his nice suit.

“Captain Donoghue, what the hell’s going on here?”

I open my mouth, amazed that I’ve been blamed, but I can see by the look on his face that an excuse is only going to make things worse.

“You two, hit the showers, this is supposed to be a warm-up for a friendly game tonight.” He turns to me as Jordan and Yale head towards the locker room.

“Coach, is it a good idea to send them off together?” I ask.

He turns to me, his face red. “See me in my office.”

Fuck.

Coach tells me to sit down and stays standing behind his desk.

“What the hell happened?”

“Jordan just took it a little too far, I don’t think Yale, I mean-”

“I know it had nothing to do with Huntington. I thought you were supposed to be fixing moral.”

“I-”

“What have you done about it Austin?”

I swallow.Fuck, I don’t know, nothing?

His face softens and he takes a seat so he’s not looming over me anymore. “You can’t be scared of being disliked if you want to be captain and play in the NHL.”

“I know Coach.”

“I know those guys are your friends, and they should be, but this mentality, it’s beneath you. This is a meritocracy. You don’t win back your spot on the first line through bullying and intimidation, and if you’re captain, you sure as hell don’t condone or ignore it.”

“Yes Coach.”

He sighs and runs a hand over his face and gives me a tired look. “I have high hopes for you, your picture’s going to be on the wall here someday, in an NHL jersey.”

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