“Good. Now, I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
I hear the footsteps coming up behind me as the entire rink goes silent. Some of the guy’s jaws hit the floor, while some look starstruck.
Theo Cramer, Connor Grieves, Billy Callahan, and Wilder Ranslavic walk onto the ice, each of them looking smug and confident. They stop, forming a line at my side. It’s kind of entertaining watching Callahan try to look intimidating when I know he’s a huge softie. Last year for Halloween, he dressed as a princess with his niece. Yet when he gets into hockey mode, he doesn’t fuck around.
“No fucking way…” Logan breathes.
“Holy shit, that’s Wilder Ranslavic,” Levi states in awe.
Straightening, I begin to walk back and forth, making sure I have everyone’s attention. Once I’m confident they’re all looking my way, I step back in line with my men.
“As you all may know, this is Callahan, Ranslavic, Grieves, and Cramer. They’re some of my buddies from the Storm, and they’re gonna show you dipshits how to play some damn hockey. Got it?” I announce, and the Wolves all nod. They’re in for a treat. I just hope my friends can keep it together and get this shit done. I’m counting on them to help me get the Wolves set for the rest of the season.
“Yes, Coach!”
I look at my buddies and give them a nod, letting them take over. I don’t know if this is the smartest idea I’ve ever had or if it’s about to be one of the dumbest, but I guess I’m about to find out.
Theo steps forward, eyes scanning the room like he’s sizing up a rival team on game night.
“We watched your last game film on the way here,” he tells the Wolves. They share some looks and whispers before their attention snaps back to Cramer.
You could hear a fucking pin drop in here it’s so damn quiet.
“And?” Logan asks. Kid’s snarky, and I know Callahan’s going to have a field day with him.
Wilder shrugs. “You want the polite answer or the honest one?”
There’s no response. My team looks terrified.
“Honest,” Logan mutters.
Wilder nods once.
“You’ve got talent, size, speed, and a shit ton of money backing every inch of this place,” Theo says.
“But you don’t play like a team thatneedsto win,” Callahan states.
I watch the Wolves faces shift from awe to defensiveness and maybe a bit of embarrassment. Good. They need to know what the pro’s think of their skills as players. If they’re not going to listen to me alone, now they’ve got five of us telling them the same damn thing. They need to be told like it is, or they’re never going to get better. They’ll never succeed.
“Okay,” Theo claps. “We’re here for the weekend. Your coach here asked us to run some sessions and scrimmages with you guys and talk strategy. Help you figure out what Patterson’s been trying to beat into your skulls for weeks.”
“You want the NHL?” Connor asks, his tone serious. “Then stop acting like this is guaranteed. Nothing is. It doesn’t matter how much money mommy and daddy make. They can’t buy your way in. You’ve got to be fucking great.”
Damn, Grieves. I didn’t know he had it in him to give a pep talk like that.
Honestly, I’m glad they agreed to this, because I was at my whit’s end with these fools. I needed backup. The awesome thing about my friends is they’ve always got my back, just like I’ve got theirs. Even if I’m not out there playing with them right now.
Two hours later, we’re in full scrimmage mode.
Connor, Theo, Wilder, and Billy rotate in every once in a while, demonstrating how things should be done.
The Wolves skate faster and hit harder, trying to prove my guys wrong. This is what they needed. They needed to want to prove themselves.
Before long, the Wolves are gasping for air as
Theo steals the puck clean from Jacob, passing it to Connor who buries it into the net flawlessly.
Wolves players stand around looking like they’ve just witnessed a miracle. I think they’re starting to see that this is the level they need to be at. This is what it takes to be the best. To get to the top.
