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

FOUR

SASHA

“We’re excited to have you coaching the team, Sasha,” James Michelson schmoozed into the webcam as I signed the contract naming me Manchester University’s newest Head Coach of the Men’s Ice Hockey team.

As we’d gone over the contract during the call, I became more and more ecstatic about the clauses I’d negotiated with the hiring team and the school president. Michelson had been on the committee that hired me as well, and would be my boss, so to speak, but he was fake as hell.

And I hated fake.

After agreeing to accept the position, James scheduled this meeting to review the contract.

As he read through it—yes, the man read it aloud to me over the webcam as if I couldn’t read it for myself—his nose snarled at the clause that gave me full, unfettered control of the team and program.

Then his face soured further when he read over the portion that stated, unless I resigned, the school couldn’t fire me until the end of the season without just cause.

His eyes lit up at that phrase, but fell when all of the possible reasons for termination were enumerated clearly with zero wiggle room.

The last thing I asked for robbed the man of his voice and the snarl.

“You cannot have access to another staff member’s email.”

“Considering the last coach was fired and the email is property of the university, my attorney and the school provost disagree. I will not sign the contract without all the files and emails pertaining to the team, staff, and individual players.”

“One moment.”

He muted his side of the video feed and picked up the phone.

Leaning back in my chair, I folded my arms across my chest and waited, watching him side eye me several times as he argued with whomever was on the other line.

I didn’t know the man well, but based on the way he clicked his pen and carded his fingers through his hair, messing up the perfectly slicked back hairstyle, he wasn’t hearing what he wanted to hear.

When he hung up the phone, his shoulders lifted several times before he turned back to me with the phoniest smile I’d ever seen, and he said, “You will gain access once…”

“ Before I sign the documents. Or I don’t sign.”

That twitchy muscle danced in his cheek again, joined by a twitchy eyelid.

I clenched my teeth to keep from laughing at the man when he held up a finger, telling me to hold.

The sound on his side muted briefly, but came back on when he turned for the phone.

He must not have noticed because he punched some buttons, and the speakerphone started ringing.

A voice I recognized as the school provost, who had also been on the call when I made my demands, answered.

“What now, James? ”

“He refuses to sign…”

The school president’s voice came through the speakerphone. “Whatever he wants, give it to him. If you can’t or won’t, start polishing your resume.”

The call disconnected, and when he turned back to the computer screen, he noticed the mic was on, and I couldn’t help myself.

I sat forward, my crossed arms coming to rest on the dining table in front of my laptop, my biceps stretching my t-shirt.

With the biggest shit-eating grin I could manage splashed across my face, I said, “I’m excited to be part of the Maulers again.

I loved playing for The U, and I look forward to helping the team win some games and the boys achieve their dreams.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek, and he tried to smile, but it came off as more of a pained grimace than a smile.

“Like I said, we’re excited to have you,” he said as he typed away on the keyboard. Then he looked back at me with a sigh. “The email with your account setup, as well as access to Coach Muncy’s files, has been sent to you. If you’d double-check that so we can finalize the contract?”

I did so and smiled. “Thank you, James. I appreciate it.” When he started reading the contract again, I signed it and emailed it back to him before saying, “There’s no need to continue. You have the signed contract in your email.”

He blustered and babbled, then paused and sighed. “When can we expect you on campus?”

“I’ll move in this weekend.”

“But… ”

“Yes, I know the start of the season and all that. Apparently, I have staff who’ve been handling things since school started. They can continue to handle things until I get there. I’ll be in touch with your secretary to arrange for someone to accept delivery of my furniture.”

After that, I hung up. I had shit to do. Which began with digging through the mess Muncy had left behind.

Several hours later, I looked up and sighed. It was just as I suspected, James was on the outs with the school and probably on the verge of losing his job, if what I found was known by the president and provost. Muncy wasn’t the only guy gambling. James was right there with him.

Luckily, the team seemed well managed thanks to the assistant coach.

Will Grigor had been an amazing player, and from what I could see from the film I watched and the paperwork I found in Muncy’s files, he made an even better coach.

Picking up the phone, I dialed his office number, praying he was still there.

“Coach Grigor.”

“Will, this is Sasha Storm.” The name felt like a pair of old hockey skates that fit like a glove but weren’t nearly as comfortable as the new ones you’d been wearing.

“Sasha! It’s been a while.”

“It has.”

“Is it official? Will you be coming on as head coach?”

“Yes, but I need you to answer me a question. Why didn’t you take the job? I’m sure it was offered…”

“My parents just moved in with us. My dad has early-onset Alzheimer’s. ”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll keep you all in my thoughts. So… is the staff around? I’d like to hop on a quick video call since I won’t be there until the weekend.”

Moments later, I sat staring at a screen filled with the faces of the coaches and staff for the Maulers Hockey Team. Intimidated shouldn’t have been how I felt, but I’d never coached before, and they all knew it.

I decided my first act as coach, after having them all introduce themselves, was to offer the job to whoever on the staff wanted it.

“Anyone want the job? It’s yours if you want it.”

Crickets.

Finally, Will Grigor spoke up, “Coach Storm, I feel comfortable saying we’re all willing to step up and help out, but none of us wants to take the lead.”

“If you’re all sure?”

Every head on the screen nodded, and I sighed.

“Alright. Let’s get to work, but I have a request.”

They all stared at me silently until Will asked, “What’s that, Coach?”

“I want a rundown on the team, not individual players. I wanna know where we’re weak, where we’re strong, where we need to tweak things, and what needs overhauling.

If you do bring up an individual player, I don’t wanna know who their parents and family are.

If they have a hockey dad, brother, uncle, cousin, etc,… I don’t wanna know. ”

Brows furrowed across all their foreheads, but they nodded, and we got to work.

Over the next hour, they brought me up to speed on everything I needed to know going into the season, which started in less than two weeks.

And I kept my promise to Mikal. I didn’t do a damn bit of digging into who his kid was.

A few of the names on the roster were hard to miss.

One in particular stood out. Trey Malachek.

Mikal and I played against his dad. It was what it was.

I wasn’t a fan of his dad, but the kid would be judged on his own merits. As would all the others.

“Thanks, everyone. I appreciate the extra effort. As for now, we will stick to the schedule that’s already in place and see how things go from there.”

That last bit was met with a lot of shifty eyes and fidgeting bodies. Then came the question I dreaded the most.

“What will you be changing?”

I looked down at the square on my screen of the guy with enough balls to ask the question, I could see on the others’ faces.

Dane Weller.

Luckily, all their names showed on their squares, because I didn’t recall his name, even though he’d introduced himself earlier. That was the strength and conditioning coach was all that came to me.

“It’s been a day, Dane, so if I’ve not said it, it’s nice to meet you.

I look forward to working with you. Especially since you sucked up enough courage to ask what is probably on everyone’s mind.

To answer your question… not a damn thing.

I refuse to be the guy who changes shit up just because he can.

Th e program has a great foundation from what I can see, and we will use it until it no longer works for us. ”

They looked around at the squares on their screens, and you could almost feel the tension leave them.

But then I brought up something that I knew would bring the tension back tenfold, something I’d hated about coaching staffs as a player and refused to deal with as a coach, especially when I was the one in charge.

“Which leads me to this… while I’m not changing anything outright, but there will be some tweaks made and a non-negotiable enforced.”

The faces several of them made cracked me up. The phrase ‘oh shit’ came to mind based on the worst of the faces, some of them had clenched down hard to keep from doing exactly that. I took a deep breath, then launched into the things I wouldn’t tolerate.

“First, the non-negotiable. I will not tolerate gambling. That’s what got the team in this shitty ass mess and it is now banned. Across the board. No betting on any sport. If you’re caught, I’ll fire your ass without hesitation.”

Everyone nodded.

“Second, there are multiple teams at work here, trying to achieve the same goal. For The U to come out on top this season, or anywhere close to it, each team needs to be a cohesive unit that pushes The U forward.”