Because I don’t hate him. Not even in the slightest.
When Jakob comes toward me, I stand up straight as I hold out my tablet. He speaks before I can decide what I want to say. “Like you said, they wouldn’t be able to get any momentum, which is why we did it this way. But I don’t like our boys’ play. It’s messy. They’re not able to break the zone because we haven’t practiced it as a unit. I’m putting everyone back the way they were.”
“You don’t want to try it again? We’re just giving up?”
“Yes, we shouldn’t have tried this first. You were wrong.”
I don’t have anything to add—I mean, he’s right—so I nod. “Okay.”
“You can go back up.”
And I’m dismissed.
I know emotions are high; we want a win, so I don’t let Jakob’s tone hurt my feelings. His words, him saying I was wrong, that does hurt my feelings, but he’s probably right. I let out a long sigh and start back up to the box. But to my surprise, Boon comes out of the stick room half dressed. His chest is glistening with sweat and totally hard—abs and pecs and one hell of a pair of shoulders. I stop midstride and look up just as his eyes land on me. He’s sweaty and he has a smile on his face, but then he sees me. He presses his lips together, averts his eyes, and then he moves past me like I’m not there. I look over my shoulder, watching as he walks back into the locker room, and my heart aches. I scratch the back of my neck, holding in my emotion as I head back upstairs.
So, he does hate me.
Fantastic.
I have bigger fish to fry.
A power play that needs to score.
The second period starts with a bang. For the Wild, that is.
They score nineteen seconds into the period. When they go on the power play, they score again. I wanted to challenge it since, to me, it was offside. But our other assistant coach didn’t agree. I think I was right, but apparently I’m wrong all over the place today. We go into the third period tied, and both teams are fighting like this is a Cup final. With the same messy play the Wild have been using all night, one of their players trips the shit out of Yukentco, and he draws a penalty. I sit on the edge of my seat as the McBroenes line goes out there, but they don’t succeed. It takes their line coming out a second time before they are able to penetrate the zone. Brooks moves the puck to Reeves, who sends it to Mac. He cradles it for a second, trying to bring the defense to him. The guy bites, so Mac sends it to Hoenes, who is waiting for it toward the right of the cage. His man attacks, giving him no space, so Hoenes goes to pass it to Reeves. But just like what’s been happening for weeks, his pass is picked off. The forward tips it up, and it bounces right over Reeves’s stick just as the other player gets out of the box.
And that’s all she wrote.
I groan loudly as the light flashes behind the net. I knew this would happen with how good their penalty kill is. Yes, it could have happened with a shitty one too; Boon just isn’t confident when it comes to passing on the power play. Damn it. I watch Hoenes as he skates back to the bench, and I see the defeat on his face. It sucks. I didn’t want this to happen. He’s already not self-assured about it, and all this is going to do is beat up his ego, which is already a little dented at the moment.
All because of me.
God, I’m such a bitch.
A bitch who was correct. But still, a bitch.
With the Wild up, our boys are fighting. Thankfully, Yukentco scores with one hell of a slap shot. I heard the damn stick hitting the puck all the way up here. Since we tied it, we soon head into overtime. I’m not a huge fan of overtime, so of course I’m on the edge of my seat. Who am I kidding? I’ve been here all night. I lean on my hands, chewing my lip as I watch the boys invade their zone. Brooks has great hands and is trying to pull the defense. Mac is at the net, waiting for the shot, and when Brooks sends it to Mac, he one times it, going wide. Hoenes gets the puck, sending it to the defensemen at the blue line, before rushing to set up next to the net. Mac passes to Brooks, who passes it back to Mac. He one times it, but it’s blocked. The rebound comes off hard and fast, but Hoenes is there. He swings back, shooting that puck so damn hard, he goes to his knees.