She nods, “I couldn’t agree more.”
Silence. Then the click of cameras again.
Someone tries to follow up, but Coach D steps in like a wall.
“That’s enough.” She says to them, looking at me. “You killed it out there tonight. Head back to the locker room.”
I turn before anyone can squeeze out another question.
I listen to them question Deacon as I walk away.
Mics shuffle. Shoes scrape. Someone clears their throat like they’ve been waiting for this moment.
“Moretti,” a voice calls. “Huge win tonight. As the goalie, what’s it like watching Kilovac dominate from your end of the ice?”
Deacon laughs, and it’s real and relaxed. “Honestly? It’s comforting. But comfort makes my job real boring.”
A few laughs ripple through the group.
Another reporter,“You two have played together a long time. How much does that chemistry matter in games like this?”
“Means everything,” Deacon answers easily. “I know where he’ll be before he gets there. And he knows if something goes sideways, I’ve got his back.”
I hear the certainty in it. No performance, just fact.
Another, “There’s been a lot of attention on that parade video with your child. Fans seem very invested in your personal lives lately.”
Deacon doesn’t miss a beat. “That was a little one having a good day. End of story.”
Another asks, “Can we get a name?”
“Nope.” He chuckles.
I reach my locker and start grabbing my shower items, listening harder than I mean to as they continue over the sound system.
“Some of the commentary online has gotten ugly, toward Aleks especially.”
Deacon’s tone shifts. Not angry, protective. “People online confuse access with relevance. They think because they can comment, they’re part of it. They’re not.”
Tonya asks, “Does it bother the team, seeing that kind of rhetoric?”
“What bothers us,” Deacon replies, “is blown coverages and lazy clears. Not strangers yelling into their phones.”
Someone snorts.
Another asks,“Do you think Aleks gets misunderstood by fans?”
There’s a pause this time. Short, but deliberate.
“I think people project,” Deacon says. “He’s quiet. He’s disciplined. He doesn’t perform for approval. If that makes acertain kind of person uncomfortable, they should look in the mirror.”
I stop at the locker room door.
The questions are still coming.“How would you describe him as a teammate?”
Deacon doesn’t hesitate. “Dependable. More often than not, he’s the first guy on the ice and last guy off, and the one I trust most when things get ugly.”
A beat.
