Page 48 of Cross Check Christmas
Griffin’s only here for the hot chocolate,” Sawyer says, joining us on the ice.
"I heard Brookking Sound has the best hot chocolate in Canada," Griffin says with a grin. "Thought I'd test that theory."
Owen claps me on the back. "We've got a few hours to torment you before we have to head back."
The teens are practically vibrating with excitement. Brenden keeps opening and closing his mouth like a fish, while Danny’s face has gone tomato red.
"Is that... is that really Griffin McGregor?" Danny squeaks.
"The one and only," Griffin beams.
"You saved forty-two shots against Montreal last month!" he blurts out.
"Forty-three," Griffin winks. "But who's counting?"
The kids swarm around us, firing questions faster than pucks.
"Can you show us that move from the playoffs?"
"How fast can you really shoot?"
"Is it true you broke the glass in practice last week?"
Owen catches my eye with a smirk. "What do you say, Coach? Mind if we crash your practice?"
The kids turn to me with pleading faces that would put puppies to shame.
"Please, Coach Ellis?"
"Pretty please?"
"We'll do extra laps tomorrow!"
I try to hide my grin. "Well, I guess since you're offering extra laps..."
The rink erupts in cheers.
I split the kids into three breakout groups, rotating them between Owen's shooting drills, Griffin's goalie clinic, and Sawyer’s stick handling stations.
Owen demonstrates his signature deke move, the kids copying his every motion with laser focus.
"The key is selling the fake," Owen explains, his stick dancing across the ice. "Make them think you're going left, then—" He shifts his weight, cutting right with lightning speed. "Boom."
"That's how you scored against Boston!" Todd exclaims.
"Got it in one, kid."
On the other end, Griffin's working with our goalies, showing them positioning tricks that took me years to figure out how to score against. Danny's eyes are wide as saucers as Griffin explains the butterfly stance.
"Remember," Griffin calls out, "you're not just blocking shots. You're reading the play, anticipating where that puck's going before it gets there."
Sawyer’s moved on to passing, and he weaves between them, dropping nuggets of wisdom with his usual charm.
"Hockey's not just about skill," he tells them. "It's about heart. About showing up for your teammates."
The energy in the rink has completely transformed. These aren't the same sluggish kids from earlier – they're alive, electric, soaking up every second. Even Danny, who usually needs three reminders to keep his stick down, is laser-focused on Sawyer's stick-handling demonstration.
I alternate between the groups, watching my teammates run the kids through the same drills I've been teaching but somehow making it look effortless. The teens hang on every word, their earlier attitude completely forgotten.
