Page 8 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)

Everyone nodded, but I could tell they didn’t get my point.

That thing I hated about coaching staffs, in general, ran rampant in the program at Manchester.

I knew this because the one of the things Muncy had done right was implement an anonymous evaluation system for coaches, players, and staff to voice concerns about the program, staff, and each other.

After digging the bits and pieces left after everything had been sanitized by human resources, even though I said I wanted them all, I found the evals.

And I read every single one of them.

What I discovered left me with a bad taste in my mouth that I wasn’t happy with. Taking a deep breath, I stared at each person on my screen individually before I continued.

“As you know, Muncy put an evaluation system in place. I don’t know who did or didn’t participate, since it was anonymous, but I read the submissions. All of them, every word. With that said, I maintain we have a good foundation, but…” I paused when several people squirmed in their seats.

I held my tongue for several minutes. By the time I spoke, the only people not squirming were the team doctor, nutritionist, Dane Weller, and, thankfully, Will Grigor.

“I will not, under any circumstances, condone throwing others under the bus. If you are the head of your department, the buck stops with you. Same with me. I’m the Head Coach.

Everything about this program lands at my feet.

You will never hear me put a loss on a member of the team or staff.

I will always take the blame, and I expect the heads of the departments to do the same when shit hits the proverbial fan in your department. ”

I paused, taking a long swallow from the water bottle sitting next to the laptop.

Wiping my mouth, I went on to add, “If there’s an issue, address it immediately and away from the players.

If it’s not handled, then I will address it myself.

To everyone outside the coaches and staff, we are a cohesive unit.

That includes the team. There will be no bad-mouthing of other coaches or staff to the players or where the players can overhear.

For The U to be successful, we must present a united front.

That means we will win and lose as a team.

If we lose, I’ll shoulder the blame from the administration and the media, but if there is an issue with a staff member that led to the bad outcome, I’ll discuss it with the department head so it can be addressed.

If it’s a player, Coach Grigor and I will pull them aside to discuss the issue and see about righting the ship.

If it cannot be righted, the player will be benched. ”

They all looked at me, the squirmers still twitching, but not a single person opened their mouth. Sighing, I rubbed my hand over my face before shoving my hand into my hair and explained my reasoning.

“Guys, I can’t tell you the number of times as a player I heard coaches blame players for not performing well or other coaches or staff for not being on the same page.

And no, I don’t just mean in the media or outside the locker room.

I mean inside the team’s sanctuary. It’s a direct shot to the nuts of team morale, and I won’t have it. ”

Several people unmuted themselves, but I held up my hand.

“Before any of you attempt to deny what I’ve said…

don’t. From the evaluations I read, that seems to be an issue here.

So, let me be frank… The minute I hear a coach or staff member berate a player for not performing well or saying the issue is a single player’s fault, or tossing blame at another member of the staff, you will be packing your shit.

A version of this conversation will be given to the players as well.

So they will also know the blame game is over and done with.

If a player continues down that path, I will deal with them myself individually.

But that shit stops now. Is that understood? ”

Their eyes widened in their little boxes on my laptop screen, but they all nodded.

“Alright. I’ll send you all an email with this information laid out so there’s no confusion.

It will include a read receipt, and I expect a reply from each of you that says you have read and understood the information.

And use your brains people. Do no reply all.

No one needs their inbox getting clogged up. ”

Everyone nodded again, and I wondered if the staff were a bunch of bobble heads instead of actual people.

Several days later, I pulled away from my cabin at the lake, Hawk in the passenger seat, my favorite music playing on the stereo, and pointed the truck toward The U.

Will and I spoke multiple times over the last few days while I packed up my house.

According to Will, everyone had been on their best behavior over the last couple of days.

Which made me happy. I didn’t want my assistant head coach dealing with the fallout from my orders.

James Michelson’s secretary, Georgene, arranged for movers to come in, load everything up, drive it to the school, and not only unload it in the house, but also put it where instructed. She was a keeper, and I would make sure to stay on her good side. I’d already sent the woman flowers.

The trip was an easy one. Hawk and I stopped several times, stretching the trip out so it took twice as long as it should.

Since my only plans for the day included meeting the moving truck, which should arrive about half an hour after Hawk and I were due to get in, and checking out the kink club I was now a member of, I took my time .

Chaos from campus bled over into town as I hit the city limits.

The streets were clogged the closer I got to the house that came with the coaching position.

The campus map I’d studied over the last few days showed several changes since the last time I stepped on campus.

The newly remodeled hockey arena included residence halls for both the men’s and women’s hockey teams. They stood on the opposite side of the arena from where I’d be living.

A little close for comfort, but I’d make do.

In addition to all the other help Georgene had provided, she sent along a floor plan for the house so I could label the boxes with the stickers she’d also sent along.

The house had been built to match the other buildings on campus.

On paper, it looked big, but that didn’t prepare me for the sight that greeted me when I pulled into the driveway.

“What the hell are we going to do with a house that damn big, Hawk?”

Hawk barked, and I sighed.

“C’mon, let’s check the place out.”

I stepped out of the truck, and Hawk jumped down after me, following me toward the massive ass house that was too damn big for a single guy and a dog.

By the time we toured the house and I commented to Hawk several more times that the house was too fucking big, the movers arrived.

Luckily, the main bedroom and bath were downstairs with a study, half bath, laundry room, and an open floor plan living, dining, and kitchen.

Which meant all the spare bedrooms were upstairs and wouldn’t need furnishing.

At least not immediately. My hope was that Mikal and Anya would stay with me when they came into town .

If they came into town, since they and their son didn’t want me to know who he was, and Mikal coached several teams of his own during the season.

When the movers finally got out of my way, I started opening boxes and unpacking the dishes, linens, and the like.

Hawk had taken up residence at the large wall of sliding glass doors leading out onto the patio.

My gaze trailed out the kitchen windows to check out what he was staring at.

Trees of every kind filled the yard behind the house.

Birds and squirrels swooped and scampered. I smiled at him.

“What do you think, Hawk? Think this will do for a while?”

He was well past the puppy stage, so he remained his usual stoic self, all but his tail.

That set to wagging so hard I heard him brushing against the hardwood floors, so I knew he was excited as hell to explore.

But he was a good boy and waited patiently.

I glanced at the half-unpacked kitchen. I still had a slew of things to put away, but we’d both been cooped up in the car for a few hours, and we’d been working almost non-stop since we got here.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s take a break and check out the yard.”

Grabbing his daily collar with his tags from the box I set on the counter near the wall of doors, I leaned over, pulled his harness off, and replaced it with the simple collar.

I didn’t make him wear the harness often.

At the cabin, he hadn’t worn it unless we went into one of the neighboring towns we didn’t frequent much.

He was a gorgeous, friendly dog, and people had a tendency to pet him if he wasn’t wearing his service vest.

Now that we were here, I’d have him in the vest until the team and others on campus got used to seeing us out and about.

I’d retire the vest again, but until then, it gave us both a bit of breathing room because it literally said not to pet him.

For the most part, the vest did it’s job and deterred people from being assholes.

There’d always be one or two entitled people who thought it didn’t apply to them and would still try.

I dropped the harness in the box. “Wanna go play?” I asked him as I grabbed his ball and Frisbee.

Happy barking and spinning in place replaced the normally stoic dog’s demeanor.

I opened the door, and he took off like a shot, running and sniffing.

I gave him time to do his business, then called him back to me, tossing the ball and Frisbee until my shoulders burned.

I paused several times to make sure he caught his breath and drank some water.

I didn’t want him overheating, but after keeping him cooped up in the truck on the trip here and planning to go out tonight, I also wanted him tired enough not to stress when I left him alone.

My phone buzzed in my pocket as I took the ball from Hawk, tossing it into the yard, but Hawk didn’t acknowledge it. He remained motionless other than his head cocking as if asking if I heard it. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and said, “Get the ball, Hawk.”

He took off at a dead run, and I laughed as I opened my text messages.

Mikal Rustav

You in town?

Hawk brought the ball back, dropped it at my feet before sniffing the entire patio. When he found the spot he liked, he lay down with a huff.

Sasha Storm

Yes. Just moved the last of my boxes in. Thanks for arranging the moving company and helping get the stuff I ordered delivered.

Mikal Rustav

I didn’t do much other than tell the athletic director that you were saving the pork.

Sasha Storm

Bacon

My phone buzzed in my hand, my eyes rolling as his face filled the screen.

“The saying is saving the bacon, not the pork. How do you not know this stuff after all the years you’ve been in this country?”

“Pork is better, because it’s the whole thing. Bacon is too small.”

“Fucking hell.” Laughter pinched my side. “You are ridiculous.”

“Says the man who turned hermit and hid from the world for nearly a decade in the woods.”

“I didn’t hide, I just didn’t want to be a sideshow, so I removed myself from the circus.”

“Did you get approved for that club that costs a mint? Why is money compared to a plant?”

“It’s not. Money is minted. That’s the term for making money, and you got that saying right, but not the one about bacon?”

“Quit changing the subject. Did you get approved? ”

“I did. And before you ask, you pervert, I’m going tonight. As soon as I get Hawk settled.”

“You aren’t taking him? Is that wise?”

“Dear God, you’ve become a worrywart in your advanced years.”

“Advanced… I am not that many years older than you, my friend. My forty-two to your thirty-six. There are siblings with bigger age gaps. Couples too. I know one couple who is more than fifteen years different.”

I knew the same couple, and none of us thought they’d make it work, but they proved us all wrong.

A decade and several kids later, our former teammate and his husband were still going strong.

They’d caused quite a scandal, as the younger of the two was an intern with the physical therapist, while our teammate was a veteran player facing forced retirement due to injuries.

“Have you talked to Jake and Aaron lately?”

“They are well. Adopting another kid, last I spoke to them. They were invaluable to Anya and me when we adopted… our boy.”

Dammit. So close.

“I still do not understand what the big deal is with me knowing the kid’s name.”

“He wants to make his own mark. Do it on his own merit. The boy is afraid to… what’s the saying he used… ride my tail or some such thing.”

“He doesn’t want to ride your coattails. ”

“Yes. That. Nonsense. As long as he has the talent, there won’t be any question as to how he got drafted.”

I agreed with Mikal and his son equally. The people who mattered would know. The people who got passed over by the boy would say it was nepotism, not talent.

“You’re both right. So, I won’t push.”

“Thank you. Now, I’ll let you go so you can take advantage of the club.”

“You have a weird obsession with my sex life, my friend.”

“No. I am tired of my friend living less than half a life.”

And with that, he hung up.