Page 4 of Austin

Now, as the high school team I’m coaching files out of the locker room for what we’re all hoping will be a good, fun, fair game, I realize I’ve forgotten something.

“Hey, guys!” I call out just as the first kid reaches the locker room door. “Wait a second. Get back here.” I motion for them to come back. “I want everyone to come gather around for a minute.”

I can see them exchanging questioning, nervous glances, probably wondering if they’re somehow in trouble before the game has even started.

“Okay, everyone listen up,” I say, stepping up onto one of the benches next to me so they can all see me as I talk. “I’m just as eager and excited to get out there as you guys are, but I wanted to say a few words before we go win this scrimmage.”

I give them a few seconds to cheer and clap before motioning for them to quiet down again. “First, I want to let you guys know that no matter what happens out on the ice today, I couldn’t be more proud of the hard work and dedication you’ve all shown these past few weeks of practice. We’ve already made so much progress working cohesively as a team that I know right now, right this minute, we’ll definitely be ready for the state playoffs by the end of the season.”

I pause for a moment to look around at all the upturned faces. These are all good kids—kids who have bright futures ahead of them and who are just getting a taste of what competitive sports can offer. Some of them will go on to play for college teams. One or two of them—with a hell of a lot of hard work and almost as much luck—will go on to play professionally. But it all starts right here in this room. On this team. With me. And damn, I’m proud to be a part of their journey.

I have to stop myself from getting a little choked up thinking about it and about how I felt all those years ago when I was the one receiving the pep talk. I couldn’t remember many of the details, but I do remember wanting to go out and prove—to myself, to my coach, to my team—that I was ready to go as far as I could in this sport. I know I have at least a few young men in front of me who feel the same way today as I did back then, and I want to make sure all of these kids know I’m here to support them no matter where their individual journeys take them. They might only play hockey together for a few seasons, but I can almost guarantee there are some friendships that have been made over the past several weeks that will last a lifetime.

Wrapping up my talk, I point to the door. “Now, I want you all to go out there and stay focused. Play with integrity and good sportsmanship. Remember to have fun while you’re out there, but also to give it everything you’ve got. I promise if you do those things and follow my plays, nobody can stop you. Nobody. Understand?”

“Yes, coach!” a chorus of voices shouts back.

“Do you understand?” I repeat.

“Yes,coach,” they shout even louder.

With another yell of, “Let’s go Kismet Falls!” I follow them out to the ice. I felt good about our chances of winning before, but now? After seeing and hearing their enthusiasm?

We’re going to have the best hockey season Kismet Falls has ever seen.

* * *

My team is on fire.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed a hockey game this much—and this is just a scrimmage, for God’s sake. If I can’t be out on the ice myself, coaching is definitely the next best thing.

Maybe even better, if I’m being totally honest.

We’re at the beginning of the third period and we’re ahead by three goals, a lead that the other team isn’t likely to overcome without making some miracle plays. Our guys are strong enough out on the ice that I’ve even rotated in a couple of the smaller freshman just so everyone gets a chance to see some action today.

Granted, I’ll have to be a little more cautious and strategic with who I put out there during our regular season games, but I’m more interested in letting each team member get those first-time-on-the-ice jitters out of the way so they can start concentrating, working as a group, and hopefully having some fun in the process.

One of the seniors who is sitting out this period stands up from the bench to clap me on the back. “It’s happening just like you said, Coach. We’ve been working as a team and they haven’t been able to stop us this entire game.”

It’s hard not to let the praise go to my head and I start to grin before I can completely stifle it. “We still have a long, tough season ahead of us,” I say, schooling my features back into my serious game face. “But yeah, I’m proud of what you guys have accomplished today.”

One of the underclassmen chimes in from behind us. “Does that mean we can have a day off from practice on Monday, Coach?”

I turn and fix him with a hard look. “You want to come up with excuses to miss practice before the season has even officially started? Is that what I’m hearing right now?”

“No, sir,” both boys answer in unison.

“Good, because there’s no chance I’m gonna let you guys off the hook that easily. Go undefeated for the first half of the season, then we can have a conversation about the practice schedule.”

“Yes, sir,” the younger kid nods. “I’ll be at practice bright and early on Monday.”

I wave them off without saying anything else. They’re good kids, just like every other young man on the team, but they’re still teenagers and still—for the most part, anyway—rookies on the ice. As nice as it would be to sleep in on Monday, we still have a lot of work to do.

The other team calls a timeout and I turn back over my shoulder to look at the crowd. A flurry of movement up in the bleachers catches my eye, and that’s when I see her.

The sexy bookstore clerk.

The woman who hasn’t been far from the front of my mind ever since the moment I first laid eyes on her.

---