Page 88 of Play to Win

“I know, I know.It’s hard to stop those thoughts sometimes.I try not to want things too much, in case they get taken away.But ...”His eyes shadow.“I really want this job.And I want to do well at it.”

My heart squeezes almost painfully at the hints of vulnerability in his words, his fear that this too will be taken away from him, his hesitancy to even say it out loud.“You will.”I reach up to cup his face with both hands and go onto my toes to kiss him.“You will.”

He clasps my waist and says lightly, “I appreciate your faith in me.”

I wind my arms around his neck and kiss him deeper, the ocean breeze blowing my hair all around us.He pulls me closer against him and I exult in the feel of his big, hard body against mine and his arms around me.I can’t explain why I have faith in him.But I guess that’s what faith is, believing in something without any real evidence.I don’t really know if he’s good at his job, despite how smart he seems and how his family listened to his every word when he talked about hockey and how his grandfather hired him for a reason.

But I do believe in him.

19

THÉO

“Belmont has to go.”

I shake my head at Grandpa.“I disagree.”

“Are you kidding me?He was struggling at the end of the season.Hardly any goals.”

I smile.I’d rather deal with exact numbers than “hardly any,” but this is one of those situations where you need your eyesandthe math.“He was playing at about the same effectiveness in the offensive zone at even-strength as he did the year before, with similar scoring-chance numbers, but getting a higher percentage of his shot attempts from the slot on net, and a high proportion of them were off the rush.Part of the reason he didn’t put up points is the team overall wasn’t scoring.”I give Grandpa a pointed look.“At five on five, they scored on 5.04 percent of their shots on goal, the second-lowest in the league.”

Grandpa frowns.“I think you’re trying to baffle me with bullshit.”

I laugh.“No, I’m not.These are the things we need to consider.”

“All that data shit just goes over my head,” he complains.

Grandpa’s an old-fashioned hockey man, and cap compliance and statistical analysis aren’t areas traditional hockey men are very knowledgeable about.“His line mate wasn’t scoring either,” I add.“But the reason I’m not worried about Belmont’s lack of production is his dominance in gaining the zone.He’s an elite player at gaining controlled entries, and his attacking style off the rush makes him a dangerous player once the puck crosses the blue line.He’s also pretty decent at creating offense off dump-ins; I’ve been watching video of him and comparing him to some of the best scoring-chance producers off entries, and he’s right up there.”

“Jesus.Are you serious?”

“Serious as taking a puck to the nuts.”

Grandpa barks out a laugh.

“Look, he may have been in a slump, but I think we need to be patient with him because he does all the right things to create scoring chances.Now, Jablonski, on the other hand?—”

“I like him,” Grandpa interrupts.

“Great.I like him too.But with him, the numbers don’t lie.He’s not worth the money we’re paying him.”

Grandpa sighs.“Are you ever going to listen to me?”

“I’m listening to you.If you’re asking am I always going to do what you want ...then, no.Not always.Also, we have to talk about Joe.”

“I told you he had to go.”

“And he does.But not just because we were losing.”I rub the back of my neck.“He doesn’t respect me or what I’m telling him.”I’d had that feeling from our first meeting.“He doesn’t agree with the kind of analytics I want to use.We need someone who’s on board with that.”

“Fuck.Like who?You got someone in mind?”He gives me a shrewd look.

“Actually, I do.Dave.”

Grandpa frowns.“Dave Martin?”

Our assistant coach.“Yeah.We’ve talked a lot and I think he’s ready to move up.”

“He’s too new here.I just hired him.”

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