Page 67 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
Abby and I sat next to Willa, sipped our beers and people watched. The arena wasn’t even half full, and there was a noticeable lack of Tusks colors in the crowd, although a boy a few sections up did have one of those huge number one foam hands in lime green.
Wishful thinking, kid.
The Maple Leafs were on the ice practicing, but as the music changed, they headed down the tunnel to their locker rooms. The announcer made a few comments about parking and concessions, then brought the Toronto team back to skate around the edge of the rink while the overhead showed their headshots and introduced each one.
“Here they come!” Abby announced with a seat-bounce.
Willa sat up straight, and I leaned forward to see as the orcs took the ice. I noticed the improvement right away. The one guy remained along the wall as before, but the otherswere actually gliding into the center of the rink, even if they did have some issues stopping.
“No one’s fallen yet,” Abby said with crossed fingers.
Keyword: yet.
We screamed and yelled as the team was introduced, even though Abby had a few things to say about the headshots on the screen.
“Tough day at work?” Willa asked her once the last team member, an orc whose name didn’t appear to have any vowels in it, faded from the overhead.
Abby sighed. “I can’t stand crappy PR work. This is our home team, and I want better for them.”
Willa nodded. “Me too. It’s not like it’s packed here, but it could be. People come out even if the team is on a losing streak.”
Abby snorted. “Theywouldif they pimped this all out at even the most minimal level. Lots came out the first game for the novelty, but there is going to be decreasing attendance unless the owner gets his shit together.”
“Get your sales staff over here,” I told her. “There’s an opportunity. Someone should be closing the deal.”
Willa’s expression turned thoughtful. “Yeah. Closing the deal,” she murmured. “You know, it’s a good idea.”
“We don’t usually go for demon-owned business.” Abby held up a hand. “I know, I know. The owner is worried they will skip out on payment. I’ve tried to explain that demons are very respectful of contracts and with a properly worded one, there won’t be any more problems than we have with human-owned businesses. Less, actually.”
“Make a solid pitch,” I advised her. “This isn’t a corner vape shop, it’s a major sports team, an NHL franchise. If the NHL felt the owner could abide by the rules of theircontract, then your company’s owner shouldn’t be so worried.”
Our discussion abruptly ended as the announcer instructed us all to stand for the National Anthem. Once the song had finished, we sat and watched as the players not starting took to their benches. Ozar was facing off against the Maple Leaf’s center, flanked by Ugwyll and the orc with no vowels in his name. Eng remained against the wall, his location such that I think he was supposed to be playing defense. The only other player I recognized was Bwat, who was hovering near their goalie in a defensive spot.
I couldn’t hear what Ozar and the Toronto center were saying, but it was clear they were riling each other up. The puck dropped, and all hell broke loose. Instead of gaining control, the two players lost it. Gloves came off, and the Toronto center dove at Ozar with a shout of anger. The crowd got to their feet in excitement, screaming encouragement as the players all began to brawl. It took the referees and the few level-headed Maple Leafs to settle everyone down. The next time the fight started even before the puck hit the ice.
“Damn. Best gladiatorial fight I’ve ever seen,” Willa commented.
“All we need is some lions to come out of the tunnels,” Abby added.
“And a couple of chariots,” I agreed.
The refs sent both teams to their benches to think about what they’d done for a couple of minutes, and this time when the puck dropped, a hockey game actually ensued.
Well, sort of a hockey game. The Maple Leafs literally skated circles around the slow-moving, clumsy orcs, remaining far enough from them that they wouldn’t bepummeled by the orcs’ superior strength. At the end of the first period, the opposing team had casually scored four points.
I strongly believed the human team was taking it easy on the Tusks because that score should have been much higher.
During the second period, the Tusks tried a new approach. They appeared to be herding the human with the puck toward the wall where he had limited options, then closing in so one of the orcs could check their opponent. The move, which Willa had named “The Border Collie,” worked the first few times until the Maple Leafs caught on and used their speed to evade the orcs. Even with several of their players injured, the Toronto team still scored an additional four points in the second period, then another two in the third to win ten to zero. The Tusks never got possession of the puck once during the whole game.
We sat in silence after the buzzer, mourning this loss.
“Theyareskating better.” Abby’s voice was soft. “It’s only their second game. And the Maple Leafs are looking really great this year.”
“They scored a goal last week. This shutout has to hurt,” I said.
Willa blew out a frustrated breath. “You can’t have a team full of Hulks in a game where speed and agility are critical. Who the hell is in charge of their training? They need to be doing weighted sprints and fartlek. Is anyone tracking their VO2 max and customizing a program for each player? They need speed work and a decent flexibility program in addition to skating lessons, or they’ll never be able to win a game.”
My eyebrows shot up, and I turned to Willa.
