Page 94 of The Big Puck

* * *

The team makes it to the finals.

During the middle of our fifth game and on the verge of losing, there’s a commotion behind us and the Jumbotron shows police talking to Tina Gavonza. I spin around. Lainey is with her. They stand and the police begin escorting them out of the stands.

Something in me makes me glance up at the owner’s box, but it’s impossible to see whether Gavonza is there.

I send Kap to find out what’s going on and after ten distracted minutes where he disappears with the police, Tina and Lainey, he comes back with the news. The kind of news that leaves a person hollow, neither happy or sad, but very fucking disturbed.

Kap is breathless and pale. “The police say Gavonza was found dead in the street, hit by a car—hit and run. The car, a black SUV, had stolen plates from Florida.”

“Fuck.”

“You said it. What are we going to do?”

“Finish playing this miserable game,” I say.

Between periods, I talk to the team, tell them Gavonza was hit by a car and died, glossing over the details about the hit and run, and the suspected homicide. I do everything I can to force the team to stay on the rails, to not allow any distractions.

But the news and social media are outside of my control and weigh in, heavily before we take the ice for the third period.

We lose the game three to four. Our season is over. Gavonza is dead.

And Lainey is mine

* * *

After the game I take endless interviews about the team’s future with Gavonza gone, about my status as coach, and finally they get around to asking me about the team’s success. The main thing.

“No matter what happened in the playoffs, we’ve had a spectacular Cinderella season, our first season. It’s in the books and I had a part in it. Fucking A, I feel good.” My favorite sportscaster, Buddy, laughs, patting my shoulder, congratulating me.

“You deserve to be proud. They’re talking about you for coach of the year across all sports. What do you have to say about that?”

“Who are they? I’ll have to send them a thank-you card.” Everyone around me laughs.

“You’re a lot funnier and more charming now than you were at the beginning of the season,” one of the sportscasters from Boston says.

“So are you,” I quip. Now the crowd really cracks up. “It’s easy to be funny and charming today. And not because we won. But because we worked hard. We struggled together as a team no matter the odds. The accomplishment of the season was creating this team that’s more like a family—because even when we don’t like each other, we stick together.” Some chuckles, but people are listening to me.

“Maybe you ought to do stand up in the off-season.”

“Not me. I have other plans.” I look to my left and my gaze connects with hers like magnets locking together. The grin I never thought I’d find again materializes as I take in Lainey’s brilliant face and her glittering eyes aimed at me, and all mine. I’ve never felt so full, so lucky ever in my life and I’ll take it. Here and now and for however long I can have it because I earned it and I know I—we—can struggle through whatever life throws at us when luck runs out. Because now that I have her, I’m not letting go.

* * *

The locker room has a strange feel that hits me the second I walk in, that same hollow disturbing energy permeates the air, robbing us of our sense of accomplishment and pride.

“What the hell, men? You’d think someone died.” It’s a bad joke, too soon, but it snaps the from the grips of confused stoicism.

“Fucking bad.” Kap shakes his head, snickers under his breath. Then the snickering rolls through the room and I catch it to make amends before they think I’m deranged.

“Gavonza didn’t deserve to die. This team didn’t deserve to lose in the second round of the playoffs, not after the season we had. I’m proud of you, of each and every one of you. You do deserve to celebrate the accomplishments of this season. You each contributed to a team that I will always call the best team I ever coached.”

The rumble in the room grows into real pride because they know I mean what I say. And they know they can take legitimate pride in this season. Stepping aside, I invite Rafe to have his say, then he invites Jason, who invites Sabien and he invites Chase Whittier, the newest upstart who played big without any expectations.

When I slip out of the locker room, the energy is positive, content and at the same time eager to move on, to the next challenge. So am I.

There’s still a crowd, but I spot Aunt Hildie, Lainey and Krissy waiting for me.