Even if she slipped out before I was awake.
Finding out that she works here? That is a surprise. One I don’t mind.
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
“Nope.” I shake my head as I open the door to the locker room. “Nothing to tell.”
“Fine.” Alfie eyes me before I shake him off.
The new defensive coach is waiting for us.
“Jack Jones.” He holds his hand out in a no-nonsense manner.
“Stanley Easton. You can call me Tag.”
“Alfie Hughes.”
“Nice to meet you both.”
His accent is thick, clearly English. Having done my research on him, I know he’s an ex-hockey player. From what I gathered, he was happy staying in Europe to play. He was fucking talented as hell—could have made it in the NHL without a doubt. There was nothing I could find on why he didn’t want to leave.
“I’m glad you’re with us,” I tell him. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
“Happy to be here.” Jack gives me a clipped nod, dark brown hair peeking out from under his backwards baseball cap.
“You played for the Belfast Blades?” Alfie asks. “They’re a great team.”
“We were. Hopefully this team will be better.”
That earns him a smile from me. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The guys are already gathered in the locker room, shooting the shit as they get ready for practice. It’s not big by any means, but I know the European leagues don’t have the same funds as the NHL.
Each guy has a folding chair in front of their stall.Jerseys hang from hooks, and the smell of sweat and ice lingers in the air.
With not much room, the guys are crowded in one corner. This is one of the things that I missed the most when I retired from the game.
Having a good group of guys around you.
Our team wasn’t the best. We had a coach that was putting in the time before he could retire. Making the playoffs? Never happened.
It didn’t matter to me. I still love the sport.
And hopefully I can help turn this team around.
“Can I get everyone’s attention?” I call out. The locker room quiets down as all eyes turn to me. “Stanley Easton. I’m your new coach. You can call me Coach or Tag. You’ll find I’m easy to get along with, but I run a tight ship. If I say seven, I mean seven. Not five minutes later.”
A few guys shift on their skates, looking nervous. They’re the ones that are going to have the hardest time with me as coach.
“Jack and Alfie here are your new assistant coaches. If you have problems, I want you to come to one of us. I don’t want things to linger or explode on the ice. That’s not what I want this team to be about, you got it?”
“Yes, Coach,” a few people say.
“Good. Now, let’s hit the ice and get started.”
I clap the guys on the shoulder as they file out past me. A few of the players I recognize from film, having studied last year’s team before I started. They’re talented. We have the skills to go far.
Guidance and training is what this team needs to turn things around.
