“I know what you mean,” I said with a laugh, and pulled out my gear. “He can be an arrogant ass, but he has the game to back it up.”
Hunter scoffed. “Don’t let him hear you. There’s barely enough room in here as it is, with that big head of his.”
The commotion dipped and I knew before turning around, that it was because of Coach. He’d sauntered to the middle of the room, one leg up on the bench while he waited for our attention.
“Game one, boys.” His eyes moved from face to face, a look of earnest resolution. “This is where everything we’ve worked for, played for, and everything we’ve bled for starts paying off.”
The uproar from before seemed to have soaked into each one of us to become an internal storm. There were intense nods and pumped fists all round. The Arizona Coyotes weren’t exactly the “fixture of death”—we were pretty confident we’d sweep the first round—but at the same time, we weren’t taking anything for granted.
“Like I keep telling you,” Coach said, “Doesn’t matter who we play or how deep we are into playoffs. We treat every single game like a final, and we make every second count.” Then his gaze snagged on Grayson, and he gestured with his chin. “Looks like Cap’s busting at the seams to get a word in.”
We all laughed and since Tucker was closest, he did the honors of pulling Grayson into a headlock for a worldclass atomic noogie. He groaned, swatting hopelessly at Tucker’s arms, and when he was finally released, his face was red, hair all messed up.
“Floor’s yours, Cap.”
Grayson nodded, and stood a little straighter. “First off, I want to say what a shame it is to have to go into the biggest competition of the year with a bunch of five-year-olds.” Hewaited for another round of raucous laughter to die down before going on. “Luckily, I’m mature enough, and talented enough… to do this all on my own. I’m humbled and grateful to get to be the one who will lead The Surge to glory with nothing but my singular contribution.”
Sniggers all round, and Coach just shook his head. “Please tell me your second of all isn’t more bullshit.”
“Oh, second of all,” Grayson said, as if it only just occurred to him that he started a numbered list. “You guys better make me look good out there.”
When I slipped out for the med bay, the ragging was still going full force.
“You’re late.” Reese was already stationed at the exam table, cold spray and tape at the ready.
I set my gear down at the edge of the table and pulled off my shirt. “Sorry, there were speeches.”
She scoffed. “Speeches. Right. Sounds more like a bar than a locker room.”
Her hands came up to my shoulders and with a subtle touch, she made me turn so my back was facing her. A second later, the room filled with the smell of menthol and the sound of her hands rubbing together to warm up the anti-inflam gel.
I didn’t know what to say, but needed to break the stiff silence. “You’re not gonna make me lie down again?”
“And have you sleep through the first game of playoffs?” She chuckled, hands gently working my shoulder.
I was immediately pulled back to that feeling when that gnawing pain had finally lifted under her magic hands. How I’d simultaneously felt like I’d been run over by a truck and alsoweightless. Made me a little mad at myself for avoiding her as long as I had.
“Lift your arm slowly,” she said then, her fingers pressed into the top of my shoulder. “Keep your elbow straight. That’s it.”
I raised my arm, gritting my teeth against the familiar sting along the joint. “Feels like someone lit my arm on fire.”
“Hold it,” she said without sympathy. “Now rotate, outward first. Good.”
“Liar.” It wasn’t as smooth or controlled as it should’ve been. But with the gel soaking in to ease the joint, I was confident I’d at least be able to swing a stick tonight.
“Now internal rotation.” Her hand cupped the back of my shoulder, guiding me. “Careful.”
I groaned. “Careful? You think the Coyotes are gonna be careful when they cross-check me into next week?”
She let a faint smile slip. “You have to lead with your left.”
By the end of her short check, she had me move my arm through flexion, extension, rotation, and I could feel every inch she touched. My shoulder hurt, but hadn’t screamed yet, and I considered that a win.
“I’m ready for my close-up,” I said as she rolled out the tape.
She was meticulous. Each strip went on, precise and firm, but not constricting. Her hands lingered just long enough for me to feel the stability settle into the joint. There was something else in her touch too, but I didn’t want to go there. Not just yet, anyway.
“Now let’s see what we’re working with.”
