Page 91 of No Pucks

I raise my hand. “I have a few things. I grew up with my father as my personal hell of a coach, so I know his tricks.”

The whole team turns to face me.

“He loves dirty play, as dirty as you can imagine. I don’t know how long he’s been with the Monsters, but even if it’s only a week, he will have taught them all the crap he knows. He won’t just encourage it, he will enforce it. He’s going to pull anyone not doing what he wants. Imagine the worst you’ve seen, then go worse. It will be physical as fuck. They are a good team, a fast team, but expect to fight for every position. My father won’t leave anyone on the ice not giving two hundred percent. They won’t give you even a fucking second to breathe. He’s got his reputation for a reason. We have to make them work just as hard and tire them out.”

“I’ll help with lots of rotation, but he’s right. When I played with Cox, he played dirty, even against his own teammates at practice. This will be the most physical game of your life,” Anthony agrees then turns to me. “Anything else?”

“Let’s fucking win this, because I don’t want to let that fucking bastard get anything over me or Coach.”

The team cheers, and we head out to the bench.

TWENTY-EIGHT

ANTHONY

Some guys play worse mad, but not Logan. He uses his emotions to fuel his play on the ice. He’s dominating it as soon as the whistle blows, but the Monsters play dirty. They come onto the ice exactly like I’d expect a team coached by Cox Sr.: ruthless and ready to fight. Cox Sr. will make them a better team, but at what cost? The injury toll would be high, and I know we need to take advantage of their time in the box.

We get our first power play fifty seconds into the first period because of the Monsters’ dirty play, and I want to call a time out, but it’s too early to use my only one, so I hesitate. It can fuck up momentum in a team, and I don’t want to do that to mine. Used right, it can change the course of games. An early lead will piss off Cox Sr., and I have to coach to my opponent as much as my team.

Instead, I yell for them to slow things down. It can take players completely out of their heads.

Not many coaches take advantage of time when it’s one of our biggest assets.

They take their places, and Ridgeway makes eye contact with his brother. Those two could become the best duo in the NHL if they keep it up. They start their play, working the puck around tomove the goalie, waiting for the opportunity to catch him on the wrong side of the net.

Their handling is so much better than when I took over the team. They’re defensive with the puck, keeping possession. The twins make eye contact again, and I bite my thumb to not say a word. But instead of passing to his brother, Ridgeway fakes and shoots it across to Logan. He doesn’t hesitate, not even fully taking possession, merely redirecting it into the net. The alarm goes off, and it takes everything in me not to jump into the air while making eye contact with Cox. I keep myself to clapping.

The first period ends, and we are still up 1-0. I know Cox Sr. is irate, so we need to keep that energy going.

“We cannot get complacent,” I say to the team when I go into the locker room with five minutes left in our break. “Cox Sr. is fuming. He’s going to be screaming at his players, and, as I’m sure Logan can attest, the Monsters will come out playing dirtier than ever.”

“They will. He’s going to be threatening them at this point. He will hate being down,” Logan agrees.

I look at each one of them. “Let’s destroy them.”

As I predicted, the Monsters come out with vengeance, and this period, they’re getting away with more of it, almost like the refs decided to sleep through the second period.

They get a point and then a second, and my team just cannot get back on their feet. They are so down by the time we hit the next break, I don’t know what to say to them. I need to come up with something to get them out of their damn heads.

“The Monsters are only out-skating you because you’re letting them. You are a faster team and even better with the puck than they are. You’re giving into their violence. I need you guys to find the energy you had in the first period.”

I leave them to it while I go to strategize with the coaching staff. We move some guys around and change up our plays forthe final period. We come out strong and score another goal, evening it up. They slip but fight, and it’s a fucking grudge match.

One of the Monsters’ players takes a pot shot, hitting Wolfe with his stick when he doesn’t even have the puck. The ref ignores it, so Wolfe takes it into his own hands, coming out of the goal to fight.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I throw my hands up.

Both of them are put in the box, and we are left without a fucking goalie.

“Archangel, get in the goal.” As our biggest defensemen, he’ll at least fill up most of the net.

He gets in there, but he’s not quick enough. They score, and I switch out a few guys, going back to our primary offensive line. They’re still in a power play, and if they can use this twenty seconds to score, we can even it up for overtime.

My gaze is glued to the puck. They move the goalie, keeping the puck in play. I grind my teeth, waiting for them to shoot. I hold my breath.

“Come on, guys.”

Logan passes it to Ridgeway, who funnels it into his brother, and he shoots.

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