Page 49 of Puck Me Secretly

“Good job.”

CHAPTER 17

By noon,our legal team had banned the reporter from entry to our stadium until further notice. They also threatened to ban the entire NCR news station from our stadium and all future events, unless Gary, their reporter, dropped his charges and their network posted a public apology.

The news station responded within thirty minutes and complied. Gary gave a heartfelt apology for misleading the public and they suspended him without pay.

I couldn’t wait to tell Max. I brought my lunch down to the rink to watch the team practice, hoping to catch Max afterwards to tell him the good news. I studied Max as he worked. Despite what happened last night, he worked hard while they skated speed drills. It did not surprise me that Max led the team with his speed.

A sharp whistle blew.

The team stopped, all of them breathing hard.

Baxter, the head coach, called out, “Since Logan is dragging his ass, we will start from the beginning.”

Groans sounded from the players.

Baxter continued to ride Max’s ass. I watched Max push himselfharder than anyone else, but his best was never good enough for Baxter.

“Logan, you look asleep out there.”

“Logan, how hungover are you?”

“Logan, why do you bother to show up, if you won't do the work?”

They did the same drill again. And again. And again. Until they were all dripping with sweat and heaving for oxygen.

When they moved to an offense drill I breathed a sigh of relief.

Three offense players with the puck, played against two defensive players and a goalie.

I watched as Max wove up the ice with the puck. Max waited to pass but the defense covered the other two players. Max shot the puck and easily hit the net.

The whistle pierced the air.

“Logan, you think you’re a one-man team? Learn to pass the puck. This isn’t the Logan show.” Baxter yelled, shaking his head in disgust. “Again.”

I watched as Max started with the puck again. The defense covered the other players. Max took advantage of a split second that his teammate was free. The pass was perfect and the other player scored.

The whistled echoed.

“Logan! Why would you pass? You were wide open,” Baxter yelled, his face red in anger.

The players exchanged glances. Baxter was being a complete dick. We all knew it.

Max circled back to Baxter.

Baxter ignored him and blew his whistle. “We’re done for today. Thanks to those of you who mentally showed up to this practice. Your commitment to our team has not gone unnoticed.”

The team and the other assistant coaches filed off the ice. It concerned me that Baxter could not remain professional with Max.

Baxter called out. “Logan.”

Almost off the ice, Max made eye contact with me withan empty expression. He stopped short and skated back towards Baxter.

At that moment, I realized that Baxter had no idea I was listening.

“I don’t give a shit who you are or how many goals you score, you can’t come to my practices and act like you don’t give a shit.” Baxter skated around him and then stopped in front of his face. “You think you’re such hot shit, but you’re a washed-up loser.”

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