Page 29 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)

TWENTY-THREE

SASHA

Our first game.

Our first loss.

This loss… fuck me, this loss shouldn’t have happened.

And I couldn’t even pinpoint what the fuck went wrong.

All I knew was everything had. The defenders didn’t defend.

The goaltender didn’t block the easy shots, and the forwards couldn’t seem to find the net.

Hell, these boys were elite athletes. Every one of them has played on some of the best teams out there.

Fucking Malachek was on the last Olympic team and helped bring home a gold medal yet he skated like he was in the U14 league.

And worse still… we lost to the worst team in the fucking league.

The team was shook up. You could see it on their faces and in the way they held themselves. They came off the ice and walked into the locker room, shoulders slumped, chins tucked until they lay on their chests, skate-encased feet barely moving .

I couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t faring any better.

Failure.

Imposter.

Poser.

The words played on repeat in my head, swirling with all the nerves and anxiety I’d had before the game. I followed the last of the guys into the locker room and watched as most all of them dropped onto the seats in front of their stalls. The exception… Aiden. He lost his shit.

His helmet smacked the back wall of his locker as he used it to punch the wall.

Will moved to say something, and I waved him off.

As a former player, I knew what this felt like, and I knew how stifling and rage-inducing being told to settle down was.

And I wouldn’t do that to my guys. The locker room was their safe space, and this was their opportunity to release their emotions without fear of reprisal.

And since I couldn’t do for Aiden what I wanted, I gave him free rein.

With a roar, Aiden launched his helmet into the back wall, then dropped into his locker, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Close to thirty sets of eyes, some angry, some confused, some sympathetic, all turned from Aiden to me.

“Well, I think that about sums up how we all feel.”

Nods and small huffs of laughter filled the air before the small chuckles gave way, several of the guys were laughing hard enough to snort. One of them was Aiden himself. I was glad to see the kid wasn’t as volatile as that outburst looked and was able to calm himself once he got the anger out.

I gripped his shoulder as I addressed the team .

“The moratorium on our decimation can wait until tomorrow. Head to the showers, do all the aftercare you need, but…”

My eyes roamed over the players in the room.

“Come tomorrow, prepared to have your asses worked off. Spending the night drinking and fucking might not be the best idea, but that’s up to you.

You’re all men. Go out if you want, but if you don’t show up tomorrow morning ready to fix whatever the fuck that was, well, you can explain to your parents and the press why the hell you’re riding the bench. ”

I strode off, Hawk at my side, Aiden’s eyes catching mine. The boy looked close to fucking tears. All I wanted was to wrap him up in a blanket, cuddle him close, and reassure him this loss wasn’t all on his shoulders, because something told me that was how he felt.

Once out of the locker room and out of sight, I fell back against the wall. Will and the other coaches surrounded me as I scrubbed my hands over my face.

“We gotta figure out what the fuck happened.”

Will sighed, “They went in too cocky.”

“And the other team was hungry,” Joey Gilroy said.

Joey played junior hockey, never moving on to the collegiate level due to an injury.

Despite that, he was a great guy with great instincts and a huge asset to the team.

I opened my mouth to agree with their assessments, but bit my tongue when Leif Jacobs came around the corner, his ever-present phone in hand, his thumbs flying over the screen as usual.

Rising from the wall, I muttered, “Oh great, the Angel of Death is on the way. ”

Will, Matt, and Joey all laughed. Leif was a nice enough guy, except he was all business all the time with a face that made you think if he smiled, his face would crack. Stone-faced didn’t come close.

“Coach Svartstrom, the media is waiting.”

I nodded, turned to the guys, saying, “Looks like it’s time to face the firing squad.”

Leif’s eyes darted between the four of us, and I sighed, waiting for him to balk. Only he didn’t, what he did was bite his tongue so hard you could see him do it.

“I’ll just go put out some more chairs then.”

He spun on his heel, and I called after him, “Be sure there’s enough for Weller, Elliot, and Doc Langley if he’s not busy with the team.”

Leif turned back, stared at me, his jaw worked double time before he nodded and walked away.

Matt and Joey’s eyes found each other as they moved to follow Leif while trying to contain their laughter.

Will shook his head as he said, “You’re determined to make him lose his shit aren’t you?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t doing it to be an ass, but the guy’s stoicism drove me fucking nuts. We all had a job to do, and yes, what we did was important for the school and the team, but the dude needed to unwind because being spun up tighter than a clamped-down spring.

I lowered my voice, my gaze swept the area, and I said, “If I didn’t think I’d get slapped with a sexual harassment charge, I’d recommend he visit your brother. ”

Will’s eyes widened, his head swiveling before he said, “You umm… wait… which brother?”

“Ewen. I didn’t know you had more than one.”

Will cleared his throat and whispered, “Ollie. He works the front door.”

“The little guy.”

Will snorted, laughter braying from him like a donkey. “No one’s ever called Ollie little.”

I got what he meant. Ollie cut an imposing picture, so I clarified, “They do in my world.”

“So… you’re…”

“A member? Yes.”

Realizing how close I was to divulging too much, I followed after Leif, Matt, and Joey while Will stood gawking after me. When he caught up to me, he leaned in and said, “So, do you have a… umm… person? I don’t want to assume roles because clearly size and attitude doesn’t play into it.”

Fear ran through me. Thankfully, Will stood behind me and couldn’t see my face.

“Good on you, Coach Grigor. Not many people realize that. And no, I don’t have a boy,” I said, again without thinking. Cringing, I clarified, “I met someone, but it didn’t work out, so I’m licking my wounds.”

Not quite the truth, but it wasn’t like I could share who I met.

Or that Aiden and I were both members. Or that I fucked a player I met at the club without realizing I fucked a player until coming face-to-face with him in the player’s lounge my first day on campus.

Yeah, none of that was at all possible, so I didn’t elaborate further.

Instead, I called for Hawk. “C’mon, Hawk.”

I stepped into the press room, and fell into a sea of craziness I fucking hated and definitely hadn’t missed. Anxiety-ridden people stood all around, their hands up like over-eager know-it-alls as they reached out, yelling as soon as they caught a glimpse of me.

“Coach!”

“Coach!”

“Coach!”

The other coaches and staff, minus the team doctor, were already sitting with two chairs left open in the middle.

Will and I took our places and waited. This show of unity and force before the gaggle of press did nothing to take the focus off me.

I hated this shit as a player and it seemed like the theme would be continuing as a coach.

The people on either side of me looked as uncomfortable as you could imagine when faced with a sea of reporters and camera crews.

Everyone was fidgety and twitchy. When the season started and I told them they’d be facing the firing squad with me, they all looked around to see if I was joking.

Now, they knew I wasn’t. As the loses would be my hit to take, the least they could do was sit their asses down in the chairs next to me.

When it appeared the shouting insanity wouldn’t be dying down anytime soon, I tapped the mic in front of me. The media hounds didn’t flinch.

So, I turned to the left, then to the right, and muttered, “Cover your ears. ”

Everyone’s eyes widened, but they did as I said. When they were ready, I let out a long, shrill whistle directly into the microphone.

That got their attention.

Everyone grumbled, but they immediately shut up, and sat down. I crossed my arms on the table before I leaned into the mic.

“Now that we’re all on the same page and ready to have a conversation, who wants to go first?”

Hands shot into the air, but one over-zealous guy shot to his feet and yelled, “Storm, what’s with the entourage? Afraid…”

“Everyone’s afraid of something, but you can sit. I didn’t call on you.”

Pointing at a young woman in the front row who looked out of place, “What’s your name?”

“Gabby Lindell with The Bear Facts. Coach, there’s been some buzz about your guide dog…”

“Hawk is a service animal, not a guide dog. It’s an instance of all guide dogs are service animals; however, not all service animals are guide dogs.

The difference is I don’t need help getting around, not unless it’s an extremely busy, chaotic area, but I do need his help with safety issues since I’m deaf and legally blind on the injured side. ”

“Thank you for the clarification. So the buzz about Hawk is that he’s become sort of a team mascot.”

I laughed and scratched my beard as I tried to figure out her angle. If she had one. The Bear Facts was the student paper. Finally, I said fuck it .

“Hawk and the team get along very well. He’s usually on the ice with them during their morning skate while they warm up. They’ve devised a strange game of fetch with him during shooting practice. He even has his own set of pucks when they want to play with him.”

“Coach, Dan Jenkins from KMAN, with the team losing their first game of the season…”

“I’m gonna stop you there. The team might not have won, but the boys played hard.

We’re still finding our footing. There’s a new captain, a new starting forward, a brand-new coach, and the starting goalie is damn good, but has been sitting on the bench waiting for his turn.

We’ve had about a month together on the ice.

The team we played today… their entire first and second lines returned the last two years, and their coaching staff has years more experience than ours.

Those two lines have played together longer than any I’ve ever heard of.

They play like they’re sharing a brain. That’s difficult to overcome, and today we didn’t. ”

“Do you think having the dog on the ice is a good idea, Coach?”

“I don’t see…”

Will spoke up, “Coach Svartstrom’s service animal isn’t the issue. It’s the staff’s fault the boys weren’t more prepared. It will be something we, as a coaching staff, focus on.”

“Steve Olsen from The Daily Tribune. Can you be prepared for the Eagles? They’re division rivals…”

“Steve, I played here at The U. I’m fully aware the Maulers and Eagles are rivals. And yes, we will be ready. More than ready. . ”

I pointed at someone else in the crowd and I recognized the fucker. I couldn’t remember his name but he covered my early days in the league and made it his fucking goal to make my life a living hell.

“King Masters. Hockey Monthly. It’s nice to have you back in the game, even if it’s only as a coach.”

That’s right. King was his name, and he took it literally. The man fucking irked me then and that question pushed me so close to the edge it crumbled under my feet.

“It’s good to be back. Coaching has been a dream of mine since I played here.”

“Then why turn down so many previous coaching offers?”

“None of them were The U. All those programs are top notch in their own right, but The U was the dream.”

I moved to call on someone else, but King asked, “Going back to the comment you made about the lack of experience on the team, do you think it was a good idea to start an unknown in the first line center?”

“I’m going to correct you. The individuals on this team are extremely experienced.

I never said the team members lacked experience.

That’s you taking my words out of context, which was something you liked to do when I was still playing.

I didn’t like it then, and I can’t say I’m a fan of it now, so let me be blunt.

This team is jam-packed with experience—decades and decades of it.

What I said is that as a team, we’ve had just a few weeks to get to know each other on the ice, with several key players being new to their roles on this team .

The other team did not have that, and I feel confident in saying that had this game happened a month from now, the outcome would be very different. ”

Looking around the press room, I stood. This press conference was pointless.

An utterly asinine waste of time. I had a team waiting, who needed hyped up so they could put this loss behind them.

All sitting here did is let the press continue raking us over the coals until I took a page from my earlier days as a hot-headed hockey player known for storming out of press conferences after swiping everything on the table to the floor.

Yeah. That wasn’t happening.