I’d heard whispers about this coach. His name amused me when I first heard it. Who names their kid Lemon? All I can think of is the pucker your mouth makes when you taste a lemon. By the sounds of it, he’s a brilliant coach, but a bitter, spoiled man who wears loud clothing.
I haven’t had a chance to meet him yet, but if he’s as angry at me for having more funds funneled into hockey, as the rumors say, I’m not in a huge hurry to meet him.
Quin’s smirking. “You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, have you?”
“Not yet. I’m slightly amused and also maybe avoiding it.”
He laughs. “My point in bringing up that the other teams were hit too is because I know they’re all brainstorming how to close the gap they’re now facing. I’m not sure what your plans are, but I think that they’d probably be on board for a collaborative effort.”
“Hmm,” I muse, nodding. “For some things, I think that will work. One is an athlete date auction, which is just what it sounds like.”
“Ahh,” Quin says, sitting back as he smiles.
“My team has had a blast coming up with ideas on how to ‘sell’ themselves. It’s both kitschy and endearing to hear them twist their good qualities into silly humor and find weird facts about themselves to list. They have this idea of making trading cards as a way to sell themselves,” I explain.
“That sounds great. But you realize this is a community event, right? It’s not just the student body here.”
“I thought we’d make an age restriction to avoid a fifty-year-old trying to purchase a date with a nineteen-year-old. I thought we’d also maybe include the date details. Picnic in the park. Or, as one of my students said, romantic night skating on the rink. Though I’m not sure the bright overhead lights lend a romantic ambiance.”
“And put it in writing that this is ‘for fun’ and not a guarantee of anything outside the outlined date,” Quin adds, nodding. “We’ll have to run it by our teams to make sure we have protection for our kids, but I think that could be a lot of fun.”
“I think it’s something I can open up to other teams too,” I say. “Whichever athlete is willing to sign up for this event—the funds from the winning bid on them goes to that team. Easy enough.”
“Have you thought about some good-natured rivalry events?” Quin asks. I shake my head. “I’m thinking of something like dodgeball where it’s a neutral game that none of your teams are well-trained in. Smaller teams can combine and sign up for a dodgeball tournament. You can sell all aspects of it—someone pays to have their company on the team shirts. Maybe have a pay-to-play requirement to enroll as a team and have them get a sponsorship for their team to meet the goal.”
“That reminds me. One of my kids suggested asking teachers to sponsor them for a season. My first reaction was not seeing a problem with it, but I don’t know how teachers would feel having a student ask them to sponsor them.”
Quin dances his head from side to side as he thinks about it. “I think you’d have to lay down some ground rules about approach and stuff. Also have a uniform ask letter so it’s clear exactly what they’re asking for and what they’re promising in exchange. I think it would be okay. I doubt they’d approach more than one or two of their favorites.”
“Okay, so another thing to flesh out. Last one I wanted to run by you is a merch store. We have very few merch options and I thought expanding our products might be a project we could collaborate on. We pay your screen printing and embroidery classes to make our products while allowing your students to come up with some unique ideas for merch. No one knows what an audience wants as merch more than that audience.”
Quin grins. “We can definitely do that. But I hear you’re petitioning to re-logo the team?”
“Wow… that traveled quickly.”
He chuckles. “One of my partners is part of the financial board, and he was particularly excited about this. Otherwise he doesn’t share, since he’s really not supposed to.”
“He too doesn’t like the cartoon horn logo?” I ask.
Quin snorts. “I’m not sure anyone does.”
“Weird that someone approved it to begin with,” I say as I get to my feet. Quin stands too.
“I think it might have just been one of those things that slipped through the cracks. Our football team has held bragging rights for ages, so naturally, they get the most attention. But the other teams are good and getting better. Last year, the board decided they wanted to have great teams. Period. Not justagreat team. But they all needed some attention to get to thesame or similar level of pride that we have for our football team. Our soccer and hockey teams were the most promising, so that’s where we’ve focused. Alka has been given more resources for camp this year and hockey got you.” He grins.
“I hope I don’t let the school down. That’s a lot of pressure.” Since I’m not sure if I should say I haven’t coached before, I keep that to myself. Though anyone who looks me up will quickly find that information. Ijustretired, so I haven’t had time to do anything else.
We step outside and I take a breath. The air is warm, but the breeze is cool. This is such a pretty campus with all the colorful flowers and mature trees. Perfectly manicured lawns and beautiful stone work throughout.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. I think your presence is enough to encourage the community to get excited about our hockey team and offer their support. If it helps, the admin is convinced you’ll do great things.”
It does help, but it also adds another layer of pressure. My team is already doing well. They’re working hard and are completely dedicated to what they’re doing. To hone their skills and master new ones. Working as a team, as well as progressing individually as an athlete.
I have confidence in their ability.
Actually, I find it reassuring that admin feels I’ll do well in this job. Especially since they know I’ve never coached before. But I’ve been playing hockey since I was four. I’ve learned some shit.
As we walk, I don’t pay much attention to the students more than acknowledging that they’re there. So at first, I don’t see the man coming toward us until it’s clear that he’s heading for us. He’s short, thin, wearing pink leggings and a ballerina skirt—that itchy material kind—in a rainbow of colors. His shirt is a white crop top with a sequin football on the front.
