Page 21 of The Stud

His face cycles through cringes and winces. “I…embarrassed myself in front of her.”

“How bad?”

“Uh…” leaves him in a high pitch, “think ripping your breezers during your rookie lapandmissing your slapshot.”

“Fuck, mate.”

“Yeah.” Peck shakes his head as though still in disbelief. “But…” the gleam in his gaze swiftly returns, “I thinkthatshowed her the other side of me she needed to know existed. The unperfect one.” Another small wince is flashed. “Not that I’m perfect on the ice. None of us are. But that’s where we push tobeour best. Tobethe most perfect players we can be for ourselves as much as each other. And I think seeing the goofy human versus the hockey god scored me my first real dub, which eventually led to others.”

Huh.

That makes an unusual amount of sense.

“No Payne, no gain!” chirps Kiernan Payne upon entering the rink.

“Oh good, he has a catch phrase,” I mutter to Cap under my breath.

“Youse guys ready to gain more W’s than you ever have before?!”

“And an ego,” quietly huffs the man who led us to many victories last season.

“I just wanna learn what I can,” Fredrick “Potato” Potapova declares coming in behind him. “Whatever happens here, I know I can use it back there if I go.”

That’s why Potato is our kind of callup.

He knows his place.

And he knows he’s replaceable.

Which is what youwantin a new recruit.

Especially when going from minors to majors.

Shits different here.

Harder.

More ruthless.

It’s like war.

Know your role and we all have a greater chance of survival.

“Welcome home, boys,” Blanc warmly greets all of us. “Most of you know our motto – as it trickles down through the ranks – but for those thatdon’t, prepare to learn it.” His attention gradually works its way through the crowd. “And live it.” He continues scanning the team. “You will see these words. You will hear these words. You will taste, smell, and touch these words in this barn andforthis barn.” The small shift on hisskates assists in keeping him balanced. “You will say them. You will believe them. You willbethem. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Coach!” gets echoed back.

“Cap,” he effortlessly calls on Eeyore. “Tell the boys what those words are.”

“Work hard.”

“Ra!” we bark out in tandem at the same time we pound a single fist against our chests.

“Play hard.”

The gesture is instantly repeated.

“Fuck hard.”

---