Page 28 of Riding Pine
“Youngblood, Badger, Soup! Get out there!”
Another line change-up, and the guys scramble to do as they’re told and shift on the fly as players come off.
“Piney, you pair with Burnsy next shift.”
I’ve been through this for twelve seasons at this level. I know Coach is making notes and might very well be sending someone home today, but I didn’t want to tell Youngblood that. He’s got potential, and he needs to use his joy of the game to fuel him.There’s no need for him to worry just yet about whether he’s sticking around.
The current defence pair is approaching the bench for a change. My partner and I do a seamless shift, with each of us claiming our positions as our team forwards enter the offensive zone. Burnsy has been in the league for a few years now, all of them with the Aspens.
His pass to me is crisp and right on the tape. The wingers are covered well, and our third forward is battling to stay in front of the goalie. With no options to pass and a sudden opening in front of me, I draw back and slap the puck through the open seam, hoping for a good deflection.
It’s better than a deflection, though. The water bottle pops off the top of the net as the puck hits the twine, and my linemates throw their arms in the air to celebrate.
“Fuckin’ A, Piney! You still got it!”
Whistles sound, and the end of our ice time arrives. I’m smiling so big I’m afraid of reopening the cut on my chin. It feels good to score. Street hockey, a practice, an actual game—it’s always the same thrill of knowing you put the puck in the net. It never gets old.
In the locker room, Smitty sits next to me as we dress after our showers. We have time to socialize during our dinner service before another team meeting tonight, and I noticed Coach tapping on a few other players’ shoulders today. As much as I want to be alone, I could use some company to take my mind off what the news might be.
“Great shot, Piney! What a rocket!”
Smitty dries his hair with a towel and tosses it into the laundry bin.
“I hear dinner is chicken parm tonight. Want me to save you a seat?”
Coach walks through the locker room then. Our gazes meet, and he tilts his head towards the door.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I have to make a call and see Landon real quick, then I’ll join you.”
I quickly finish dressing in the team-branded sweats and exit the locker room, heading left to Coach’s office. When he notices me at the doorway, he motions for me to come in, and I close the door behind me.
“Hey, Coach.”
He laughs softly. “Relax, Lukas. This isn’t a bad meeting, so let the stress go. You’re not cut.”
“Ohthankgod.” My shoulders sag with a whoosh of breath.
“Sorry to have kept you worried. It wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s okay. It’s just, well… you know I’m probably in my last year, and I really want to play. So if it’s bad news, I’m not prepared for it.”
“I’ve noticed how you’ve taken the younger players under your wing. Youngblood and Smitty gel well with you, and you’re a good example, Lukas. So, no, I don’t want to send you home. Quite the opposite.”
Coach leans on his desk across from me with a warm smile.
“I don’t think you’ve ever had the chance to be a leader, have you?”
“In what way?”
“Of a team, Lukas. Has anyone ever let you speak up?”
“Um…I…well, I do when asked.” I’m not sure what Coach is getting at. I talk all the time in the locker room and on the bench. I’m always vocal about things for the team.
“Okay, here’s the deal, Lukas. This team is getting a facelift all over, right? They’re doing massive ticket drives, they’ve created a mascot, and they made player and coaching decisions in the offseason. One was to bring you here. One ultimately brought me here. We’re all striving to make changes.”
“Yeah. There’s a booster club event or something happening Saturday. I’ve never done anything like that.”
“Well, get used to it. Team captains are expected at these kinds of things.”
