Page 19 of Goalie Interference

Hanny paused to turn. “I hope so. He’s never liked you, so it seems weird that he’d be on board.”

“We were competitors, but it was only hockey. We never had any issues off the ice.”

“Sure of that?”

“Yeah.” World Juniors had been more than a decade ago. We’d never been on the same team, never played a playoff round against each other. There’d been a lot of press back then, with the draft, the Calder Cup. But after my injury, I was never in his league. I’d have happily traded those victories for the success he had. If Otts hadn’t been injured, he’d have won another Cup or two, and definitely the Vezina. He’d been good, like I had been before my injury. “I’m here, aren’t I? He had to be involved in that.”

“Good point.”

The arena was just ahead, so it was time to focus on hockey, not my dog or the woman taking care of him. I’d like it if my former rival could also be shoved out of my mind, but that wasn’t an option.

Things were still tense in the locker room, more than twice the number of guys who’d normally be there all warming up, dressing, talking, chirping…the familiar backdrop of my days. But the competition for a limited number of spots was apparentby how crowded the room was. The equipment guys had been busy, and we all had practice jerseys with our names on them. There were temporary names taped on some of the stalls. I was sure they’d be thrilled when the numbers were cut down, resulting in less work for them.

I didn’t rush, so by the time I was kitted up and heading to the ice, most of the men here for training camp were already there. Chaos, with so many bodies on the ice.

I took a long breath, inhaling ice and cold and the tang of skates on the frozen surface. I had another year of this, hockey. By now I’d spent more of my life in the routine of the game than I had outside of it. I needed to take this opportunity and play well enough to get another contract. That was my only focus.

The goalies had congregated around Otts in one corner, so I skated to join them. I pasted on the best smile I could and stopped beside the others. I up-nodded at the group, all of us with our helmets tucked under our arms since they were a bitch to put on and take off.

Otts gave a nice talk about how this camp was to see who would be playing for the team for this season, everything was open, and if someone went to the farm team, they might still be called up. And to use camp as a learning experience.

I exchanged glances with Keats. I had a one-way contract and I assumed he did too, so it was unlikely we were getting sent down, since we’d be paid NHL salary if that happened. Still, Otts was pumping up the young guys. Seemed to be a theme for the coaches.

Training camp continued. Nothing much of interest happened. The goalies stayed in their group, taking turns in net and blocking shots while Otts watched and made comments. The only thing that broke up a chaotic but kind of boring first day was when Ethan Harrison checked Stryker Bell, a rookie forward, into the boards. Coach was pissed, and Ethan wouldget an earful when practice was over. There had to be something behind that, more than a rookie showing off too much.

Coach brought us all in for a speech. He told everyone they’d done good work and released everyone but Ethan, who followed him off the ice. I took a moment, while sitting on the ice, to stretch out some of the muscles that hadn’t been used for a while. As I got to my feet, Otts stopped beside me.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure.” Like I was going to say no to my coach. Was he going to talk about the apartment, and his ex?

“I wanted to give you some background, without the other guys around.”

I nodded. Sounded like it was about Sophie.

Otts glanced around, making sure no one was close to us. “Laplante had a standout rookie camp. Kid’s got a lot of potential. But he’s young and has impulse issues.”

“Impulse issues?” I had to pivot my mind-set from the guitar woman to my potential teammate. There hadn’t been much chance to read him during the practice we’d had.

“Flies off the handle. Mood swings. Runs hot and cold. Mostly because he’s young, but management thinks he can become the goalie of his generation if he calms down.”

That explained why he’d been the first goalie selected in the draft, and why this team had taken a chance on him, but… “How bad are these ‘impulse issues’?”

He shrugged.

“That bad?”

“Not enough to keep the team from drafting him, but they planned on a couple of years on the farm team to help him settle down. But now Pahlsson’s retired because his daughter is sick and he wants to go back to Sweden.” Like Hanny had told me. “So management decided to speed up Lappy’s career projection.”

“What do you think?”

He shook his head. “We goalies are a lot different from the skaters. Rushing a young player can really hurt them. For Lappy, maybe knowing the team has confidence in him might help him calm down. I hope so. Sometimes he seems like he can do it, but…”

It sounded like Otts had been working with the kid since rookie camp. “Did you tell them that?”

“It’s my first season as the Aces goalie coach. I don’t have a lot of say, and they don’t listen to me much yet. I suggested we should bring in someone who can help him out, calm him down.”

Pieces were beginning to fall into place, and I didn’t like the picture that was forming. “Am I that someone?”

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