Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
All about that ice. Later. Three dots. Three more dots. Weird request, but…call me later if you can.
I sent a thumbs-up emoji and stuffed my cell into my pocket as Denny pushed open the door.
He tapped his cup to mine and inclined his head. “Shall we?”
We talked about the usual new-session hurdles. There was always a kid who was sure they deserved star athlete treatment or whose parents were concerned their little darling wasn’t getting enough attention. We didn’t have to deal with them personally. They filed their grievances with the owners and local coaches, not the NHL hotshots.
However, Denny and I had grown up here. Hell, I’d attended the first ever Juniors Camp, coached by the newly retired legend, Kimbo, a.k.a., Vinnie Kiminski. I still remembered how nervous I’d been. Sure, I knew how to play hockey and I’d had some great coaches, but Vinnie was a real live NHL star.
Elmwood Juniors’ Camp had come a long way since that first summer that Vinnie was the only name anyone recognized. Nowadays, hockey greats flooded the Four Forest area every summer. Some came with their families, friends, and significant others and stayed to tour rural New England. Some arrived solo, happy to do a little bonding with their fellow athletes and soak up the positive press that came along with this gig.
Denny and I stopped to chat with a Russian goalie who played for Vegas and gave directions to a rookie forward from Pittsburgh who’d been assigned coaching duties at the high school rink across town.
Did we know where to go? Dude, Elmwood was home. Our families were entrenched in the community and had been for decades. Geez, I’d coached Denny well before he’d skyrocketed to superstardom.
It was surreal to be among the few athletes who represented the NHL and Elmwood. Sometimes, it was just a pain in the ass. The press coverage always seemed to include a segment with one of the local “success” stories.
“It’s your turn,” I teased at the crosswalk down the hill from the rink.
“Nope. We’re both off the hook for now. The reporter from ESPN says they want to talk to the guys who come back every year.” Denny sipped his drink.
“Oh. That’s a good angle.”
“Personally, I’m trying to stay out of the spotlight and enjoy camp. If one more idiot asks if I’m staying in Denver next season, I’m going to lose my shit.”
“Your contract isn’t up for like…two years or more,” I replied as the light flashed green.
“I know, but they’re looking for a story…any story. McD warned me. I’m sure he warned you too.”
I scoffed. “McD is preparing for my downward spiral.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s alluded that they may shake things up in Boston. I’ve been there for over a decade. We’ve got new talent asking for big money and…” I shrugged. “I don’t feel as safe as I used to. I told you about that meeting in LA. Total waste of time. Great organization, but they don’t need me.”
“Boston isn’t going to let you go,” Denny said firmly. “No chance.”
“Thanks, but you’re five years younger than me, and your team made it to the championship game. My story is a little different.”
He smacked my biceps playfully. “No one is sending you anywhere, dumbshit. Especially now that they’ve got a rivalry to cover.”
I wiped sweat from my brow, clandestinely checking for witnesses in the El Rink parking lot before flipping him off. “That’s old news.”
“Wishful thinking,” Denny singsonged.
I tossed my cup into the bin, frowning at his cryptic tone. “What do you mean?”
He grabbed my shirt and pulled me under the eaves, away from the kids and parents queuing for early entrance into the rink. “You didn’t hear this from me, but…Trinsky is coming into town early.”
Screech.
“What? When?” I asked, grateful my voice didn’t rise five octaves.
“I don’t know. Tomorrow or the next day, I think. Vinnie was short a coach when Galmers’ wife delivered their baby early. He spoke to McD about a replacement and…”
“He suggested Trinsky,” I finished, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Yep. The only reason I know anything is ’cause Galmer was supposed to stay at my old house…next to Grams. She loves Trinsky, so she’s already stocking up on pancake mix and syrup.”
“Oh.”
Nice, Milligan.
I couldn’t come up with any more words, though. I’d been blindsided. We’d been texting less than fifteen minutes ago and every evening for over a week. Why wouldn’t Trinsky have mentioned it?
He had wanted me to call him later. That wasn’t something we did often. I should have asked what was up. I should have—
Now Denny looked concerned. Shit.
He squinted as if that might help him read my mind. “You don’t really hate him anymore, do you? It seemed like you struck a truce after your TV appearance.”
You might say that.
I pasted a neutral smile on my face. “Yeah…whatever. I’m just annoyed McD didn’t bother telling me first.”