“If you’re thinking that’s Wade Foster, ex-Minnesota Wild defenseman and high school coaching royalty, then yeah it’s who you think it is,” Seth replied.
“But what’s he…” Owen drew in a sharp breath. “He must be our new coach.”
Our new coach? That couldn’t be true. If it was, then things were worse than I thought. My entire senior year season was about to go up in flames.
“Gather round,” Foster called before I could get any more answers. He looked just as I remembered him. Tall, with broad shoulders and arms like tree trunks; still a physical force to be reckoned with. The only difference I could spot was how the firm line etched into his forehead had grown more pronounced, probably from a few more years of scowling. He might’ve been trying to smile at us, but it came across more like a grimace, as though he’d already decided we were a disappointment.
I’d done my best to erase the memory of my disastrously short time at Coach Foster’s hockey camp. How I’d failed to impress him with my play on the ice and then been unceremoniously booted off it all together. But it was no use. There was no forgetting the way he’d had made me feel that day. Every time I laced my skates the following season, I got the same irritating sense that I wasn’t good enough. I could have let it get me down, but instead, I used Foster’s criticism and my own self-doubt as fuel. It motivated me to become such a good player I could never be overlooked.
The thought made me stand a little taller. I was the best player here. I deserved my place on this team. And a new coach didn’t change that. I refused to let Wade Foster’s menacing eyesmake me doubt myself again.
“Good evening, everyone,” Foster said once we’d formed a circle around him. His words instantly silenced all the mumbling whispers of excitement coming from the players. “I’m Wade Foster, and I’ll be your head coach this season.”
That got people whispering again. Not me. I was too busy wondering if I was stuck in a nightmare. There was no way this could actually be happening.
“I understand my arrival may come as a surprise, especially as you have your first game on Friday. But I’ve spoken with the assistant coaches, and we still plan on confirming this season’s varsity and junior varsity squads tonight. I’ll be watching and assessing you all closely, and remember, your spot on the team is still on the line.”
He nodded for one of the assistant coaches to take over, and I immediately turned to Owen. “What happened to Ray?” And, more importantly, how the hell were we going to get him back?
“He’s out for the season.” Elliot Ford was standing in front of me, and he turned to reveal an unsympathetic smirk. “Back injury. Didn’t you know?”
I had a natural talent for pissing people off, but Elliot was one of the few people who managed to irritate me in equal measure. What I wouldn’t give to see him dropped to JV this year. It would never happen, though. He was a senior, and Ransom High was already seriously lacking in goaltending talent. Our backup goalie had moved to Florida over the summer and none of the guys vying to fill the vacant spot had impressed during preseason.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Owen said in a hushed voice as Ford turned away. “Apparently, Coach Ray has always had a bad back, and it started playing up a few weeks ago. Turns out he needs surgery, so he’s taking the year off. Although, I heard he might be retiring altogether. Leaving on a high after last year’s championship win.”
“Well, shit.” This was a disaster. Coach Ray had been my coach throughout high school, and I really liked him. He was a brilliant mentor, and I knew the team wouldn’t be the same without him. I couldn’t even be pissed at him for ditching us. It’s not like he could help it if he needed surgery.
“But can you believe it? WadeFoster.” Despite Owen’s excitement, he kept his voice quiet as the assistant coach was still explaining the plan for tonight’s session. “I wonder what he’s like.”
“Yeah, Parker, what’s he like?” Seth answered, sending me a grin. He knew all about my rocky history with Coach Foster. But as my best friend, wasn’t he supposed to help ease my suffering, not revel in it?
“Didn’t he tell you he never wanted to see your face again?” Seth added.
“Well, we don’t always get what we want, Seth. I have to see your face every day, don’t I?” Everyone started moving into position to begin our first drill, and I bumped Seth’s shoulder as I skated past him. “I hope you end up in JV.”
He laughed and called after me, “Don’t lie, you missed me too much last year.”
I pushed the shock of Coach Foster’s sudden appearance aside to focus on the task at hand: impressing him. SomethingI’d completely failed to do the last time we met.
When it came to the end of practice, it seemed I’d done enough, because I made the varsity squad. I was stoked to hear both Owen and Seth’s names called, too. Elliot was also selected, so it looked like I was stuck with him for another season. Freddy Anderson, a sophomore I’d never even noticed until preseason started, was named as his backup. But I prayed we never had to use him. Whenever a puck went near him tonight, he’d just stood in front of the net and squinted his eyes shut like he was hoping his body might somehow make the save.
And by some stroke of luck, Coach Foster didn’t appear to recognize me. I guess it made sense—he must have coached thousands of kids in his time, so while he’d left a lasting impact on me, it was hardly shocking that the feeling wasn’t mutual.
Once Foster finished reading out the two rosters, he dismissed us and everyone started to make their way back to the locker room. I should have been happy; I’d made varsity, and that was what mattered most. But all I could think about was that Coach Foster hadn’t announced team captain.
I knew I should leave it alone. That I shouldn’t draw attention to myself so soon. But I’d been waiting for this moment for weeks—no, months. Hell, I’d wanted this ever since I first pulled on a Ransom Devils uniform. I didn’t want to wait any longer. I was obviously the best player, and there was no way Foster could deny it this time.
I started skating over to him before I could reconsider. Perhaps he’d just forgotten, like he appeared to have forgotten me.
“Uh, Coach Foster?” I said as I approached.
Up close he cut an imposing figure, and I was taken right back to our first encounter three years ago. I’d grown taller since then, so he didn’t tower over me quite as much, but he was no less intimidating. I remembered the way he’d bluntly told me I wasn’t good enough. The look of disapproval on his face when I’d questioned the decision. And how that disapproval had turned to blind rage when he caught me on the ice after hours with—
I refused to let myself finish that thought.
Foster lifted his eyes to mine. “Can I help you…”
“Parker,” I cleared my throat. “Parker Darling. I play center.”
