Page 15 of A Vegas Crush Collection #3

all polished diamonds

Grant

“Let’s talk about your starters, just to get it out of the way,” I say to Coach Brown and the other six members of the coaching team.

“Strong line, but you know that already,” Coach says with a shrug. “Four, five years ago I would have said something like we’ve got a lot of raw talent, waiting to be shaped, but today? All polished diamonds.”

“Mikhail Zelenka?” I begin going down my list, needing his feedback on each individual guy, each individual contract.

“Strong from the start. He was a rookie with a chip on his shoulder, but that’s mostly because of who his father is.

It’s tough living up to the legacy of The Great Zelenka.

But still, he got shit done out there and earned his spot.

I don’t start rookies often, but he’s been good from the get-go.

His contract is up in another year. I’m surprised his agent hasn’t been knocking on the doors trying to tee up a bigger payday.

” Same as Max’s take on the situation. I agree with Coach on being judged against a legend like his dad every time he steps onto the ice. That’s gotta suck.

“Boris Dr?ghici?”

“The Ice Dragon is well worth his ridiculous paycheck. He was a good addition. He’s quiet, thoughtful, doesn’t cause drama, and a goddamn beast on the ice.

No issues with him. He’s super fit and strong as an ox.

I think he basically works out, plays hockey, plays video games, and spends time with his girlfriend.

He’s not a partier, doesn’t drink. Easy guy to have on the team. ”

“Okay, that’s awesome. Does the team have many partiers anymore? I got the impression a lot of them were settling down.”

“I don’t pay a lot of attention to it unless it gets in the way of their play, but I do think that’s settled a bit—particularly for the front line.”

“Good to hear. Evan Kazmeirowicz?”

“He’s gone from a B-plus to an all-star A. He was talented and well paid before, but somehow really kicked it into gear in the past few years. He’s a real leader. He cares about the players. A great captain.”

“Retirement talk? I keep hearing he’s ready to head to management because he’s got three kids and such.”

“Bah,” Coach says, waving a hand to dismiss the thought. “He’s in the prime of his game. No way. Just rumors. Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Okay, good to know. Tyler Lockhardt?”

“Oh, that kid.” Coach throws his head back, sighing in mock exasperation.

I just raise an eyebrow.

“He’s good.”

“Real good,” says Nico, the defensive coach. “Total fire starter.”

“Because he’s a damn hothead,” Coach Brown snaps. “Fans love ’im, though. They love that freaking kid. And you know, he’s a bit less crazy since that whole nonsense back in Boston with his mom and his siblings.”

“I heard about that. Georg and Pam are adopting the kids?”

“Yeah, it’s a really good outcome. Lockhardt got blindsided, I think, with the way things went down in Boston, but he grew up real quick. Totally changed him, that experience.”

“And Georg Kolochev? He’s still in the game?”

Coach nods. “He’s totally cruising. Worked hard to get sober and fit.

He was always at Evan’s back, but his play is so much better now.

They’re a one-two punch. I’m happy with his game right now.

I give the nutritionist downstairs a big gold star on that one.

She’s the one who got him on the road to rehab. ”

This perks my ears. Devon, he means.

I shake myself back to reality before getting lost in thoughts of her in front of these guys. The coaching staff’s time is worth a lot. I need to focus, but it is interesting to know how involved she is in the players’ well-being.

Back to the subject at hand. “Viktor Demoskev?”

“Solid as a rock. If anyone retires, I’d guess it would be him, but only because he’s a closet softie for his wife and kid. Another baby on the way, too, so things could change for him.”

“Really? You think he’d retire?”

“Couple of years, sure. He has a contract to finish, but we’ve talked about it. He likes coaching and he doesn’t want to go out on an injury.”

“Who could injure that tank of a dude?” Nico asks.

“True,” Coach says with a shrug. “But weirder things have happened.”

“Hmm. Interesting. Let’s talk about goal tending. Calum Lefleur?”

“Cal’s play is strong,” Coach says. “Darin?”

Darin, the goalie coach, sits forward. “He’s a strange kid, but damn, he’s a strong stopper.”

“Strange, how?” I ask. “Oh, I think Max called him Sheldon Cooper or something.”

The coaches all laugh at this. “He’s a unique guy for sure,” says Darin.

“He comes from a family of scientist professors and he’s a bit awkward and a bit arrogant, but he can see the trajectory of a shot like nobody’s business.

His hockey sense is like no other goalie I’ve ever worked with. I like him and I like his play.”

Coach Brown adds, “He’s much more manageable now that he’s stopped the broken record about how much he does not want to be here.”

“He doesn’t want to be here?” Who the hell wouldn’t want to be here? This team is on fire right now.

“He didn’t want the trade, and he fought it tooth and nail at first. Took him a hot minute to get connected to the team. He’s happy and settled now, though. And he’s good, so I’m not complaining. He’s Darin’s responsibility, not mine,” Coach says, grinning slightly.

“Do you have a good second-string goalie?” I ask.

“We have a mediocre second-string goalie,” Darin answers.

“Dante Castellano asked for a trade, and we granted it. He got better, mostly because he was pissed that we pulled Cal over instead of moving him up to starter, but then he took his newfound skills elsewhere. So now we have Beau Couture up from our AHL affiliate, who is decent but needs some refinement and some NHL starts to get into fighting shape.”

“How about the others? Giroux? Cross? Kennedy?”

The coaches all squirm for a minute, giving each other the side-eye.

“Giroux and Cross got time in the finals, yeah?” I prod.

“They did. And they did okay. They just don’t seem to fit,” says Brittani Matthews, who coaches second-string along with O’Dell Williams.

O’Dell nods. “The top guys all have this crazy chemistry. It’s palpable when you watch it live. They’re not perfect but they are connected. And we’re just missing that in the second- and third-string lines. There’s not a deep bench.”

Coach Brown shoots him a look, and O’Dell raises a shoulder in response. “What? I’m just being honest.” And that’s the way I like it. And it will only make the team stronger.

I watch the body language and then say, “Look, I’m not a coach.

I’m not a recruiter. And I’m not here to do those jobs.

I just need to know what we need to hold on to and what I can cut loose so we can manage the budget.

We have some big-ass contracts and if we’re taking on junior-high players for a varsity squad just to fit the budget, then I need to know that so we can fix it.

You know what I mean? You are all aware that a deep bench is a necessity for a true shot at a playoff run.

Always. And what’s the recruiting team doing to scout out the next generation for us?

Are we being aggressive about stalking other rosters?

And if we leave things as they are, what are we doing to get these guys ready for their big moments? ”

The coaches are silent, most looking down at their laps. I don’t know if it’s because I’m the new guy and they don’t trust me or if it’s because they don’t like this degree of feedback. Didn’t Bud Bellikowski ask these kinds of questions?

“Well, I thank you all for your input and your work,” I say, standing. “This is a top-notch team and I’m excited to be here. If there’s anything you want or need to talk about, my door is always open.”

The coaching staff all stand, murmuring their thanks before heading out. Only Coach Brown stays behind. He waits until the room is cleared out before he shoves his hands in his pockets, clears his throat, and says, “Second-string coaching needs some adjustment.”

My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. “Okay, thanks for that feedback.”

He nods and heads out the door.

At my desk, I look over the budget lines, head in my hands as I make notes. When I finally look up, I’m damn near cross-eyed as I call my assistant, Marielle, to ask her to set up a meeting with the finance team as soon as possible.

It’s interesting to dig into the details of any organization.

Some are a financial mess. Some are a morale mess.

Some are a talent mess. This organization has good talent at the top.

“Second-string coaching needs some adjustment.” It wasn’t that I was surprised to hear that, as that’s clear, but I am thankful Coach Brown was willing to say it to me.

That’s the sort of coach a successful team keeps, because he is all about the team.

The whole team. I don’t want this A-plus team to crash and burn, and it’s clear he doesn’t either. Good, because I can work with that.

After a while, I just need a mental break, so I get up from my desk and head over to the window, which overlooks the city.

There’s so much information swimming around in my head that I realize I barely remember any of the names I learned on my tour around the building.

I’ve heard that Bud Bellikowski was a good guy but perhaps absent.

I don’t want to be an absent GM. I want to get to know the staff and be part of the culture here.

Marielle pops her head in and asks if I’m interested in having her order me some lunch.

“You are a godsend,” I say, stomach suddenly wide awake and rumbling. “That would be great. Can I just get a club sandwich and a side salad?”

“Easy,” she says. Marielle is in her mid-forties. She’s curvy, with a pleasant face, dirty-blonde hair piled on top of her head in a bun. “Anything else?”

“No, that will be plenty. Thanks so much.”

She steps back out, and I hear her on the phone a moment later.

While I wait for my food, I pull up the Crush website, making notes on places where I feel the fan experience might be enhanced.

I find myself on the staff page, trying to connect the pictures and names to the people I met this morning.

As I make my way down the list, I come across Devon Pearson’s photo.

Team Nutritionist. God, she’s gorgeous. And I’m a grade-A moron for being so cold and distant to her.

I mean, I couldn’t come out and be like, Hey, Devon, last time we met, we were naked together in your hotel room.

But I also could’ve been nicer when Max introduced us.

Definitely could have been nicer. Shit. I should go and apologize to her.

Just as I’m about to take a walk down to the lower level, Marielle comes in with my lunch.

“Marielle, how long have you been here?”

“Four years,” she says. “I worked at one of the big hotels before this.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s been a great place to work.”

“Do you have family here?”

“Just my kids. My daughter is twelve and my son is ten,” she says proudly.

“Oh, you have kids. Do they like hockey?”

“No,” she says with a rueful smile. “My daughter is a dancer and my son plays baseball. No hockey players in the mix.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

She shrugs. “I let them do what they like. My late husband always talked about following your passions and I try to let them do that without much interference. It’s worked pretty well so far.”

“How did you lose your husband?”

“He died in a car accident. About five years ago. He worked for one of the big shows here in town and he was driving home late after a performance and got broadsided by a drunk driver.”

“Whoa, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“It was hard but we’re okay. Thanks for asking about me, though.”

“Well, it’s good to know about your colleagues, I think.”

“You’ll fit in well here,” she says. “This place is a family.”

“So I’ve heard.”

As Marielle heads toward the door, I add, “Thanks again for grabbing lunch.”

“It’s my job. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Devon Pearson.

I don’t say it, of course, but it’s there. She is what I’d love Marielle to get for me, because she is delicious. Every fucking beautiful curve and line of her.

And sadly, I’ll never get another taste.

Working with her here might be harder than I thought.