Page 25 of Unlovable Player

I nod to him briefly before looking away.

Out on the ice,Gray at least focuses on passing the puck, communicating, leaving the bullshit in the locker room.

Coach tells us we’ve done a good job and I ask to see him after practise in his office.

“What’s going on?” He asks. “That was a good comeback against Harvard on Saturday.”

“Yes Coach, but… do you really think it’s worth putting Yale… I mean, Huntington, in the first line?”

Coach chuckles. “Yale?” His desk phone starts ringing and he presses a button to make it stop. “What’s the problem? Huntington’s face-off win rate is off the charts, he got a goal and an assist against Harvard, he’s on fire.”

“But what about Hayes?”

“Hayes isn’t playing his best right now.” Coach says. “It’ll do him good to get a taste of what happens when you’re not performing. This isn’t a pee wee league Captain Donoghue, I thought you knew that by now.”

“I do Coach, it’s just… this change has been really bad for team moral.”

“Well I’m trusting you to fix that. I didn’t make a mistake in making you captain, did I Austin?”

“No Coach!”

He smiles. “I didn’t think so, now, if that was all, I’ll see you at the toy drive on Wednesday.” He gestures to the beeping red light on the phone and the stack of papers sitting beside it. I get the hint and leave him to it.

As I get up, he stops me.

“What are you doing on Thursday?”

“Thursday?”

“Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, nothing. We’ve got a game, so I won’t have time to go home.”

“A couple of the guys are coming to my house for dinner, can I count you in?”

“Course Coach, I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

The phone starts ringing again and he lets me leave.

We’ve setup a table and some plastic containers in the lobby of the rec center and the whole team, including Coach and his assistant coaches, take turns manning it.

A group of familiar-looking girls come up with bags full of toys, the one who steps up to the table first asks me if I remember her.

“Sarah right?”

She beams.

“Yeah, it’s so sweet that you guys are doing this.”

I feel my face flush and hope she doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“We appreciate the donations.”

Yale leans over my shoulder - a grin better suited to board rooms and cocktail parties - and says, “we’ll be collecting toys at the game against Dartmouth too, tell your friends.”

“We will.” Sarah and her friends deposit their gifts into the plastic boxes lined up in front of the table. “See you at the game,” she says.

---