Leo

The season was finally over, the arena was cleared out, and we were almost finished with the exit interviews. We’d managed to win a few of our last games, but I hadn’t been able to change the chemistry of the team. There were major divisions in the room, cliques so tight that there was no real sense of team. While the captain, Dan Ramsey, was a good player, now I was glad that he’d be traded over the summer. Rams had tried to act like my best pal, but it didn’t take long to figure out that he was the source of the conflict. He was extremely competitive, but unfortunately his competition was mainly directed to teammates rather than the opposition. That was no way to win games.

We needed a strong leader for captain. There was a guy I knew from back east that I wanted to bring here, Paul Thiebault. He was older, but he’d be a good leader and mentor for younger players. We’d just have to convince him that the Vice were becoming a team he’d want to play for.

“Who’s next?” Lucky asked me after Eric Fairburn left.

Burner’s interview had been an easy one. The Millionaires were finalizing a two-way contract with him. Whether he’d be starting the season in the NHL or the AHL was debatable. He was good, but they had younger draft picks they might want to develop before him.

In my opinion, some of the prospects would be better off with the Vice, where we could devote more time to practice and good habits, but that wasn’t the Millionaires’ philosophy. They had rushed a couple of players this season because they needed scoring. The Millionaires hadn’t made the playoffs, and the coaching staff were taking some heat. They’d been close, but close meant nothing when each playoff game was a big revenue generator.

Most of the exit interviews had been pretty similar. I wasn’t going to give false hope to players we weren’t interested in.

Rico Aleppo walked in. He’d started talking to a counsellor, and it had paid off immediately. He had a big smile on his face that hadn’t been there before.

“Your play lately has looked good,” Lucky told him. Lepper had points in his last three games. But beyond points, it was his attitude. He stopped playing like he was haunted.

“I’ve been feeling good,” Lepper said. “All the extra stuff I’ve been doing has helped a ton. Turns out a lot of the issues were up here.” He pointed to his head and glanced nervously at Lucky.

“Lucky also knows you’re seeing Edgar,” I reassured Lepper. “But it stays in this room.”

“I’ve decided to stay in Vancouver for the summer,” Lepper said. “So, I’ll have the same routine here and stay in shape. And keep the other stuff too.”

I nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. We’re going to be doing some facility renovations over this summer, but maybe Lucky can arrange for you to work out at the Millionaires facility while that’s going on.”

Lucky agreed. We discussed specific things that Lepper could focus on during his off-season training.

Lepper got up but didn’t leave. “Coach, I really appreciate all the extra time we spent together. You really helped me a ton.”

I shook his hand. “You’re doing the hard lifting, Rico. I’ll be right here all summer, so we can keep talking.”

Lepper’s new ease lifted me up. This was the essence of coaching for me: making guys stronger, both inside and out. My goal was always to leave people better than when I first encountered them.

Marty Devonshire was our last interview of the day. At first, he didn’t seem worth a second look. He was huge, but he had only a few points and tons of penalty minutes for fighting. But his work ethic had impressed me. If I gave him an assignment, he followed through to a T. Seeing him visit Bob Pankowski showed he had the kind of character that Lucky and I were looking for.

“Hey Devo, have a seat,” I told him.

“Coach.” He sat down and rested his big hands on his knees.

“Well, I gotta be honest with you here. Your stats weren’t great this season. And you know we can only carry a certain number of contracts for overage guys.”

Devo nodded, but the light was going out of his eyes.

“But… I’ve also seen things I really like from you—you’re coachable and you’re a character guy in the room. I’d rather have a guy around who knows when to fight and when to step back.”

The big man leaned forward. “I’m a hard worker, Coach. I’ll work on whatever you want in the summer.”

“Okay, Devo. I can’t make you any promises about next season. But you want to have a chance, here’s what you gotta do. I want you to work on one thing. Speed. Where you from?”

“Near Saskatoon. Saskatchewan,” he added, like there might be another one.

“Okay, I’d like to see you getting some power skating instruction. You’re a decent skater, but you need to work on your strides and turns. I’ll call around and find out who’s good in your area.”

Devo nodded.

“The new team’s going to be faster,” I explained, and Lucky nodded. It was something we’d discussed with the Millionaires: the style and the systems we wanted to play next season. The whole league was speeding up, and we didn’t want to fall behind. “You’ve already got some skills, and your skating’s decent. But if you could add an extra gear… a big guy like you, they won’t be expecting speed. It’ll be the ace up your hole.”

Lucky snorted and then burst out laughing. Devo chuckled too.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Jesus, Goats, it’s either ‘ace in the hole’ or ‘ace up your sleeve,’” said Lucky. “You’re a smart guy, but you sure mangle the English language sometimes.”

“Merde. I blame it on being bilingual.” It was like I had no first language anymore. “Well, whatever. You get what I mean.”

Marty agreed and then he left too.

Lucky turned to me. “Those are the guys you want in the playoffs. People you know you can depend on.”

I snorted. “Playoffs? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”

Throughout my career, any team I’d coached from the start of the season had gone to the playoffs. And a few had even won. But I preferred to keep expectations low and exceed them.

“We need to run over the schedule where we’re going during these playoffs,” Lucky reminded me. There were a number of players we wanted to see in person. How many would even be interested in the Vice? But we were making over the training facilities and programs during the summer which would help attract and retain players in the longer run. “You want to do that over dinner? Let’s go out. My dime. Amanda can join us, and we can go over the renovation plans and timing.”

I pulled up my calendar. “Uh, it’s Wednesday. I have plans.” I’d never dated a single mother before. On one hand, it sucked that we couldn’t get together whenever I had free time. But on the other, I liked a routine. Wednesday night was now our regular date night. Our regular sex night too, so it was something to look forward to. Tonight, Jackie was cooking at my place.

Lucky gave me a curious look. “What’s up?”

“Uh, my girlfriend’s making dinner for me.”

“Goats! A girlfriend already? And here I thought you were all work. Jesus, every French guy I’ve ever played with has been the same: so suave with the ladies.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m sure you never had any problems in that area.”

Lucky’s eyebrow went up. “Want to know something? I could count the steady girlfriends I had on one hand—actually on one finger. While I was playing, I mean.”

“That’s terrible,” I told him.

“Why? I didn’t say I wasn’t going out, only that I didn’t do girlfriends.”

“You know what I like in my players? Steadiness and commitment. Everyone needs to get laid, but if you’re wasting energy chasing women and having all kinds of drama, then that takes your focus off hockey. Guys with girlfriends make the best players.”

He laughed loudly at this. “You’re kidding me, right? I had a pretty decent career.”

“Yeah, but who knows what you could have done—with a girlfriend.” Then I laughed along with him. “No, seriously Lucky, you were a major talent. You could have gotten blowjobs between periods and still played well. But for most players, the difference between playing well and playing their best is focus.”

Lucky leaned back in his chair. “You know, with an attitude like that, I’m surprised you’re not married.”

“I was once. That was enough.” Proof enough that I wasn’t a winner at everything. But that’s why rules and structure were important, so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

“Oh sorry. I forgot, you have a kid, right?”

“Yeah, a daughter. She’s in Montréal, but she’ll be here this summer.”

“I like kids. I’d like to meet her.” Lucky’s expression was friendly and genuine. “Hey, why don’t you invite your girlfriend to dinner too? It’s better than slaving away in the kitchen.”

“Okay. I’ll check with her.” Jackie was more than presentable. I could take her anywhere. But I preferred to stay in with her. Our little dinner was something I’d been looking forward to all day. Relaxing, eating her great cooking, and then fucking that eager body. Jackie was always full of surprises.

Lucky was watching me. “What are you smiling about?”

Merde. “Nothing. Give me a minute to call Jackie and let her know the change of plans.”

The three of us settled into a booth at Gotham’s. Thankfully, Lucky had won the argument about where to go for dinner. Amanda had wanted something trendy and hipster, neither of which appealed to me. For dinners, especially when Lucky was paying, a nice steakhouse was perfect. Some place where we could settle in comfortably and really relax. But Amanda disliked places that were too fancy. She preferred to get down with the people.

Jackie walked in and spoke to the maître-d’. Once they took her coat, I did a double take. I’d never seen her in a dress before. She looked perfectly at home in this formal restaurant in her elegant black dress, high heels, and fancy jewellery. Even her hair was tamed for the occasion.

As she walked towards us, I smiled and rose.

“Jackie.” I kissed her on both cheeks. “You look very beautiful tonight.” Lucky murmured something about smooth Frenchmen.

For once there was no blush, Jackie was completely at ease. “Thank you, Leo.”

I made the introduction.

“Nice to meet you both,” Jackie said. She stared at Lucky. “Sorry, but aren’t you the hockey player?”

“Guilty,” he replied with an easy smile.

“My son worships you. He has your poster on his wall.”

Lucky reached out and squeezed Amanda’s hand. “All the best people do.” He laughed, and Jackie joined him. She was so different tonight, more cool and polished. She actually reminded me of Amanda.

We ordered dinner, and Lucky pulled out his tentative travel schedule.

Amanda shook her head. “Should we be talking about business? Poor Jackie. I’m sure she hears enough about hockey.”

Jackie smiled. “It’s not a problem. I’m the one horning in on your business dinner. Besides, Leo barely talks about the team with me.”

“He doesn’t? I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him talk about anything else,” Amanda replied. “How did the two of you meet?”

“I was the person hired to outfit Leo’s new apartment. Leo claims he met me when I broke in. But I maintain that I was merely working overtime. He was such an ogre on the phone that I wanted to get everything done quickly.”

Again I was shocked at the difference in her. The Jackie I knew was so delightfully open, awkward, and funny. But this Jackie was poised and sophisticated.

Lucky laughed. “And they call me Lucky! Goats, you didn’t even have to leave your house to meet a great woman. I’m glad you’re on my team, because you clearly have horseshoes up the… um… wazoo.”

“Oh, are you an interior designer? I could use some help with my new condo,” Amanda said.

Jackie shook her head. “I’m not a qualified designer or anything. I’m more like a bargain hunter. I get called in when the budget is so low it’s measured in pennies.”

“Which our budget was. Sorry to let you in on that secret, Leo,” Amanda confessed.

“Not a problem. As I told you before, it’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived in. It’s comfortable and looks great. Jackie’s home is the same. You’d be lucky to have her working with you.”

Jackie flashed me a pleased smile. I reached under the table and squeezed her hand.

Amanda nodded. “Sounds perfect. I hate those fancy-schmancy designers who create pristine showcases where you can’t kick off your shoes and relax. Give me your card, Jackie, and I’ll call you later.”

“I’m so low budget, I don’t even have a real card,” Jackie confessed. But she produced a little handmade card. “Here you go. The address will be changing, but my cell number will stay the same.”

Amanda examined it. “Oh, you’re an artist too.”

“A Jackie-of-all-trades,” she joked.

Our dinners arrived, and we all began eating. But Amanda kept darting glances between me and Jackie. Although Amanda and I got along fine, she had never completely warmed to me. Possibly because I didn’t agree with her ideals of loyalty and a team-family. But Jackie had impressed her, and somehow raised my status as well.