Page 1 of For the Win

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HARRISON

“Smith is out.Lower body.”

I nod slowly, sitting in coach Dave Martin’s office in the Santa Monica Coliseum.

“He’s out for the season,” Coach adds glumly.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.On top of Yatsyshyn already being out, we’re pretty light on the left wing.”

“Yeah.”

I’ve been called up from the farm team, which is nothing new for me.This season I’ve been up and down more than an Amazon drone.

Idohave a contract with the California Condors, but it’s a two-way contract, meaning I can get sent down to the AHL any time.People say “sent down,” but technically I’m being loaned to the Pasadena team.I get paid more when I play NHL games, based on my contract, but still a helluva lot less than most NHL players.But don’t get me wrong—it’s not just about the money.

“We’re gonna need you, Milo, and Jack to fill some big holes.I haven’t decided yet what lines we’re gonna run.”He rubs his silver beard.“We may have to toss things in the blender and see what we come up with.”

“That’s fine.”I’m nothing if not adaptable.I think I’ve filled in on left wing and played with nearly every line on this team at one point or another.

This shit is getting old.

I mean, I’m grateful I have a chance to play hockey for a living.But everyone wants to play in the NHL.I’ve had so many chances, but it never sticks.I end up being sent back down to the minors.They give me the “you’re a valuable veteran resource for that team” speech.I know it’s true.I’m not bragging; it’s a fact that at twenty-six years old, I’m the second-oldest player on the Pasadena Condors.Our team feeds players to the Santa Monica Condors and there are new guys coming in every season, teenagers who’ve just been drafted, guys being traded, and I’ve watched too many of them make the move.

We’ve been lucky with our draft picks the last few seasons.That’s the upside of being a team that sucks and never makes the playoffs—higher draft picks.A bunch of eager, talented, young guys have come into the team, and then moved onto our NHL affiliate.This year the Condors have done a lot better, thanks to new management and coaching.It looks like they (we?) might make the playoffs.But injuries are killing them right now and it’s late in the season.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” I tell Coach.

“Will you?”He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, looking at me over the rims of his black reading glasses.

I gaze back at him.“Uh...of course.”

He gives me another long look that has my nuts shriveling.“What?”

“You have a lot of natural talent for this game.”

I guess that’s true.

“You also have a lot of experience.Been playing pro hockey for ten years now, right?”

“Yeah.”He knows exactly how long I’ve played, how many NHL games I’ve played, and all my numbers.

“When I say we need you to step up, I meanwe really need you to step up.”He straightens and sits forward, his intense gaze fixed on me.“Let me be very frank here.”

“Of course.”I keep my face expressionless, not sure where this is going, but fairly sure it’s not going to be good.

“You’ve coasted for a lot of years.”

My jaw drops.“What?That’s not true!”

“You make it look easy,” he continues.“You have amazing hands and a fantastic ability to read the play.You make good choices with the puck at both blue lines.But there’s a sense you’re only putting in as much effort as you need to.”

“No.Absolutely not.”I think...

“I’ve always wondered what it would look like if you really put some effort into it.I bet you didn’t have to try hard in junior hockey.I bet you knew you were going to be drafted.”

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