Page 22 of The Trade Deadline
[Another summary screen, then the final round of questions.]
Narrator:What’s your favorite animal?
Jake Campbell:Dog.
Pierre Laurent:Dog.
Pavel Vlasic:Dog.
Lars Nilsson:I’ve always liked cats. We had a pet cat when I was a kid but…but never anything else.
Vladislav Voronin:Lion.
RJ Russell:This feels a little bit like a cruel question after that last one. Like I’m supposed to say crabs, right? But I just said I like to eat crabs, so I just…I feel a little set up.
Narrator:Like you trusted me?—
RJ Russell:Yeah, I trusted you, and you just pulled the rug out from under me. But I’ll go crabs. Gotta respect the claw.
[A final summary page that fades into a Blue Crabs logo.]
Chapter7
Lars
When his phone buzzed,Lars didn’t even look at the name as he picked up. It was 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning; only one person would be calling him.
“God Morgan, Mormor.” He turned on speakerphone so he could continue mixing his oatmeal. Brown sugar or jam today? Both. Always both.
“Why haven’t you played yet? I want to see you play with this new team.”
“It’s the preseason,” he said patiently. “I haven’t played a full preseason since I was a rookie. I’ll play at the end, I promise.”
She grumbled unintelligibly while he scooped a spoonful of strawberry jam into his bowl. They both knew she knew this, but it was part of the ritual they went through each September. It was her way of leading into whatever she really wanted to say about the team or the league or his upcoming schedule.
“These Blue Crabs don’t have a good record. I don’t know why you picked them. Anders says ego but Amanda thinks it’s the money. Is it good money?”
“It is.” It was actually the same money, since the Crabs had merely absorbed his contract, but that wasn’t relevant. He stirred in two giant spoonfuls of brown sugar more aggressively than necessary as he imagined punching Anders’s stupid face. “It brings me closer to you,” he deflected.
“And your brother, so I know it’s not that.” Then mercifully, she returned to her earlier thoughts. “I watched them play Toronto. Your Crabs didn’t do so bad. They don’t score enough. They should play you.”
“They will.”
“The young players, they are too fancy. They need to settle down.”
“Most won’t be in the lineup in October. They’re being fancy on purpose. They’ll play better when it matters.”
“Every game matters,” she scoffed. “There are some good players, though. The goalie will steal you three games at least. Your defense is good but they will not help you score.”
“Not all defensemen like to play risky,” Lars muttered under his breath.
“Anders is not a bad defenseman because he gets goals. His team likes it. Not everyone plays defense like your father did. The Prowlers relied on the defense scoring, and I’m worried you’re used to that. You’ll have to be mindful of how your style fits into this team, Lillen.”
“I know, I know. It’s coming together in practice.”
She hummed in approval. “Good. I don’t want to see you struggle on a bad team just for more money. I know you, it would frustrate you.”
It probably would. He’d left teams as a kid because of it, though maybe now that he was older?—
