Page 28 of One Good Puck
“If the reporters would stick to asking questions about the game, I wouldn’t have a problem.”
There’s a long pause on his end of the line. “Gavin, you’re the reason for this. If you hadn’t wanted to get rid of McCoy in the first place, you wouldn’t be fielding obnoxious questions from reporters about it.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Are you kidding me? You’re putting this on me?”
“I’m just saying. We wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t thrown a hissy fit about some stupid thing McCoy did in his personal life.”
Rage slingshots through me. This fucking guy.
In the years that I’ve coached the Bashers, I’ve never had a problem with Alan. He’s always been professional. And I respect the work he’s done recruiting the best players to our team and securing the most beneficial trades for us.
Until this mess with McCoy.
I knew Alan wasn’t happy when I gave him the ultimatum about getting rid of McCoy. But now I know exactly where his line in the sand is.
Alan is on McCoy’s side. He doesn’t give a fuck that McCoy is a trash human being. All he cares about is winning, no matter the cost. Even if the cost is human decency.
“You’re a real piece of work, Alan. You know that?” I bite.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’re fine with supporting a goddamn predator. Anything to win, right?”
He’s quiet for a long second. “Watch yourself, Gavin. You’re on thin ice.”
I hang up and toss my phone on my desk. When I look up, Ryker is standing in the open doorway of my office, eyes wide, his hand raised like he was just aboutto knock.
He clears his throat. “Sorry, I, uh…didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
I stand up. “It’s fine. Come in.”
He hesitates for a second before walking into my office. I gesture to the chair in front of my desk for him to sit. I sit down too.
He tugs at the collar of his dress shirt, then pulls at the lapel of his suit jacket, clearly uneasy.
“I’m the one who should apologize,” I say. “I shouldn’t have my door open if I’m going to argue on the phone.”
“We’ve all been there.” A second later, his expression turns serious. “That was about McCoy, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, I know you don’t need my approval or anything. I’m just some old guy playing on your team. But I respect you for getting rid of him. And not just because losing him left a spot open for me.” He clears his throat. “Not a lot of coaches would do what you did. You’re a stand-up guy.”
I’m quiet for a second, encouraged by what he’s said.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I shake my head. “I’m glad you did. It means a lot. Thank you.”
He nods. “I just wanted to tell you thanks for playing me tonight. And see if there’s anything I can improve on.”
I lean back in my chair. “We’re only one preseason game in.”
“Yeah, but I want to play my best for this team. I want to know what else I should be doing to ensure that.”
I look at Ryker, impressed by the initiative he’s taking.
I start to chuckle.
