Page 30 of My Pucked Up Enemy

James high-fiving like he’s throwing a party

Alex: more focused, less reactive

That quiet nod after visualization—brief, almost imperceptible. But real.

I let out a breath, tighten my ponytail, and grab my materials—fresh index cards, new markers, a whiteboard under my arm. I’ve got a plan for today, and it’s designed to dig just a little deeper.

Time to get to work.

They’re already there when I walk in, chairs in a loose semi-circle, water bottles at their feet. I can feel the nervous energy that comes whenever I pull them off the ice and into their heads.

James squints at the whiteboard I’m carrying. “Let me guess, today we’re drawing each other’s auras?”

Ethan wings a protein bar at him. “Yours would be pure chaos and hair gel.”

I chuckle. “Gentlemen.”

Parker offers a polite nod. “Hey, Doc.”

Alex slips in last, silent as always. He claims a seat in the far corner and his eyes...they’re on me.

“I know you’re all still riding high off that win,” I begin, pacing slowly across the room, “and you should be. You earned it. But great teams don’t just celebrate. They learn. So today, we’re debriefing.”

I write in bold across the whiteboard:

Mind Over Game: Debrief & Dig In

Then I clap once. Sharp, focused. “Let’s talk about that game. Mentally, what worked? What didn’t?”

James raises his hand like we’re in homeroom. “Visualization. I pictured Connor scoring, and boom, he delivered. I should start picturing myself with a girlfriend who's hot and totally into me.”

Ethan doesn’t miss a beat. “Try visualizing yourself not quoting your own stats on the date.”

Parker laughs. “I actually used the breathing stuff. Didn’t even notice until the second period.”

Connor adds, “We didn’t spiral after they scored. That’s new.”

I nod. “Exactly. We build on that.”

I hand out index cards and markers. “Today’s exercise: write down the biggest mental block you’ve faced this season. Something that’s gotten in your head. Your name stays on it because ownership matters. You can read it yourself or have me read it. Your call.”

James groans dramatically. “We win one game and suddenly we’re a book club.”

But they’re writing. One by one. Even Alex.

And that’s a win too.

When I collect the cards, James is the first to speak.

“My card says: ‘Fear of becoming irrelevant if I’m not the funny one.’”

He flashes a grin. “Yeah. Deep. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

Ethan mock-sniffs. “We’ll get you a plaque.”

But there’s a beat of real silence after. James shifts in his seat and adds, "Okay, real talk? I joke a lot because if I stop for too long, I start thinking too much, and that screws with my game more than any defender ever could."

Ethan goes next. “I wrote: ‘That I’ll screw up and let everyone down.’”

---