Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
tate
“So,” I say, settling back into my chair once Petrov returns from the restroom. “Tell me more about this athletic performance consulting.”
Petrov motions for the server, who walks over with an unopened bottle of wine.
He expertly removes the cork and pours the red liquid into both glasses.
When Petrov picks up his glass, I notice his diamond-encrusted Rolex that probably cost more than my first condo.
“I gave you the highlights earlier. So now, let’s talk more about your current situation, Tate.
What would you say are the primary challenges you’re facing? ”
Jesus Christ, where do I start? The performance anxiety that’s been plaguing me for months? The coach who won’t return my calls? The rookie who’s playing my position while I sit on the bench and watch?
“It’s been a bit of a rough patch,” I say, which is the understatement of the fucking century.
“Rough patch.” Petrov repeats the words and nods. “That’s what they’re calling it in the media. But what would you call it?”
“A nightmare.”
“Better. More honest.” He leans back in his chair, studying me, his fingers steepled. “How long has this ‘nightmare’ been going on?”
“Six months.” I take a sip of wine. “It started before the playoffs last season and got worse over the summer.” If I had to pin point a time, it was probably when Mark and Tessa got really serious.
I felt so much more pressure on me, pressure to be someone I’m not, someone I’ve been afraid to be since Vegas, since Zane’s rejection.
“And what have you done to address it?”
I rub the back of my neck. “Pretty much everything. Sports psychologists, meditation, different training methods. I’ve worked with three different coaches, including my current one. Nothing’s helped.”
“Traditional methods rarely address the root causes of performance issues in professional athletes.” Petrov’s voice is matter-of-fact. “They focus on symptoms rather than underlying problems.”
“What kind of underlying problems?”
“External pressures. Financial concerns. Family expectations. Relationship complications.” He shrugs. “They are all very common contributors to the stresses you experience in your position.”
I clench and unclench my fists under the tablecloth. “And how do you know about any of that?”
“It’s my business to understand the challenges facing elite athletes. Physical talent is only part of what determines success at your level.” The server refills my wine glass. “The rest happens off the ice. Support systems, financial security, freedom from external distractions.”
“And your consulting firm addresses those things?” I lift an eyebrow. “How?”
“We provide comprehensive support for athletes whose careers have been impacted by factors beyond their control.” He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a leather portfolio.
“We work with players across multiple sports. Professional athletes who’ve found themselves in situations where traditional coaching and sports psychology aren’t sufficient. ”
He slides a photograph across the table. It shows him with a baseball player I recognize, some all-star shortstop who went through a hitting slump a few years back before returning to stardom.
“This is just one example. Jack Taylor of the Cleveland Guardians. He’d been struggling for eight months when we began working together,” Petrov explains.
“His batting average dropped from .312 to .228, he was making constant errors in the field, and experienced problems with focus and confidence. Sound familiar?”
“What did you do for him?”
“We addressed the external factors that were affecting his performance. Financial pressures, family issues, distractions that were preventing him from focusing on his game.” Petrov taps the photo.
“Within three months, he was back to all-star form. Within six months, he’d signed the largest contract in his team’s history. ”
“Yeah, but how? Because it all sounds like fluffy bullshit,” I say.
Petrov smiles. “I’m sure you don’t expect me to divulge our specific tactics without first becoming a client.
But, to give you some clarity, we are successful by understanding that elite athletic performance exists within a complex ecosystem.
Change the ecosystem, and you change the performance.
” Petrov puts the photo away. “Traditional coaching focuses on technique and mental preparation. We focus on other methods, interventions, conversations, strategies. Everything designed to relieve the non-hockey pressures.”
The server appears with our appetizers, and I take a bite while trying to work out what Petrov is telling me.
“Your situation is more complex than Taylor’s, of course. Goalies face unique psychological challenges given that so much rests on your shoulders, and your recent struggles have created a number of secondary issues.”
“Such as?”
“Media scrutiny. Questions about your future with the team. Coaching changes that may or may not be in your best interests.” Petrov’s voice drops. “Personal relationships that complicate your professional focus.”
There it is again. Personal relationships. He definitely knows something about me and Zane.
“What makes you think I have relationship issues?”
“I make it my business to understand all factors affecting my potential clients. Not to judge or exploit, but to offer comprehensive solutions.” Petrov cuts into his appetizer.
“Professional athletes often find themselves in situations where personal and professional boundaries become blurred. It’s more common than you might think. ”
I’m about to ask what the hell that means when I spot them across the dining room.
Coach Enver, Frank Kowalski, the GM…and Zane. My heart stutters to a stop. They’re leaning in close, having what looks like a serious conversation.
My stomach knots.
They’re talking about me. They have to be. Why else would they look so serious, so focused on whatever documents are spread across their table? They’re evaluating me against Parker, I’d bet my left nut on that. I swallow hard and guzzle some more wine.
“I see you’ve noticed your coaching staff,” Petrov says, following my gaze.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Unfortunate timing. Nothing quite like discovering that important conversations about your future are happening without you.”
“You think that’s what this is?” I look at him, my eyes wide. I didn’t really want to believe it but if Petrov sees it, too, I must not be too off-base with my assumption.
“What else would it be? Your head coach, your assistant coaches, and the general manager of the Raptors.” Petrov is quiet for a second.
“I’m sorry to be telling you this, but in my experience, when coaches and executives have dinner meetings during the season, they’re usually discussing personnel decisions. ”
Personnel decisions. Like whether to keep giving me chances or move on to someone younger, cheaper, less complicated. Like fucking Liam Parker.
At that moment, Zane looks up from his plate and with a quick twist of his head, his gaze lands squarely on my face.
I freeze. Everything else fades away. He looks... guilty. Panicked. Like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
I hold his gaze for a few seconds, narrowing my eyes, letting him see exactly how I feel about this bullshit. Then I turn to Petrov, who’s been watching the entire exchange with obvious interest.
“Seems tense between you two,” he observes.
“You could say that.”
“Professional disagreements can be challenging when personal feelings are involved.”
Personal feelings. There’s that phrase again, loaded with implications I’m not ready to unpack.
“What are you suggesting?” I try to keep my voice neutral but his knowing look tells me not to bother. He already knows. Fuck my life.
“Just that the relationship between coach and player requires trust, communication, and honesty. When one or more of those elements are missing... ” Petrov shrugs. “Performance suffers.”
He’s not wrong. Zane and I used to communicate and trust each other. Now I can’t get him to return a fucking phone call, and he’s having secret meetings with management, literally under my nose.
“The question is whether you’re willing to explore alternatives,” Petrov continues, placing his fork on his plate. “Support systems that don’t involve navigating complex personal dynamics or wondering whether the people supposed to help you are actually working in your best interests.”
“What kind of alternatives?”
“Performance consulting that addresses the full spectrum of challenges you’re facing.
Financial incentives that provide security regardless of your current team situation.
Opportunities to demonstrate your abilities in environments where politics and personal complications don’t factor into the evaluation. ”
“That sounds too good to be true.” My eyes drift back to Zane’s table. His back is stiff, head unmoving.
“You’re an elite athlete, Tate. Your skills are valuable, regardless of what’s happening with your current organization. The question is whether you’re interested in exploring ways to maximize that value and get the outcomes you deserve.”
I glance back at Zane’s table. He’s trying to focus on his conversation, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he keeps glancing in my direction when he thinks I’m not looking.
“If I was to say yes, what would this consulting involve?”
“An assessment of your current situation and the factors contributing to your struggles. Development of strategies to address external pressures. And yes, financial compensation for your participation in performance evaluation scenarios.”
“Performance evaluation scenarios?”
“Think of it as... independent contracting. Opportunities to show what you can do when external factors aren’t working against you.”
Independent contracting. It sounds legitimate, professional. A way to prove my worth.
“How much financial compensation are we talking about?”
“Depends on the scope of your participation. Initial consulting fees typically range from ten to twenty thousand per engagement. More comprehensive arrangements can be significantly more lucrative.”
Ten to twenty thousand. Per engagement. That’s more than I make in a month on my current contract.
“What would I have to do for that kind of money?”
“Demonstrate your abilities in specific game situations. Show that you can perform under pressure when external distractions are minimized.” Petrov finishes his wine.
“Nothing you’re not already doing, simply in a different context, without the pressure of your current management breathing down your neck. ”
A different context. That could mean anything, but right now, with Zane ignoring me and management having secret dinners about my future, different sounds pretty fucking good.
“I’d need to know more specifics.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to make any commitments without understanding exactly what we’re proposing.
” Petrov signals for the check. “Why don’t you take some time to consider what we’ve discussed?
If you’re interested in learning more, we can arrange a more detailed conversation.
We can prepare documentation for you to review. ”
“When?”
“Soon. Within the next few days.” He pulls out his phone, scrolls through what looks like a calendar. “I’ll have my assistant contact you with some date and time options.”
The server brings the check, and Petrov hands over an American Express black card without looking at the total. The kind of casual wealth that suggests money isn’t a concern, which makes his offer feel more legitimate.
“One more thing, Tate.” Petrov’s voice drops as we stand up to leave. “I’d recommend keeping our conversations confidential for now. In my experience, people who have investments in maintaining the status quo don’t always appreciate when athletes explore other options.”
People like Zane, who’s supposed to be helping me but seems more interested in having dinner with management than returning my calls.
“I understand.”
“I hope you do. Because what we’re offering isn’t just about money or performance consulting. It’s about taking control of your career instead of letting other people make decisions about your future.”
We shake hands at the restaurant entrance, and I watch him disappear around a corner.
Someone finally seems to understand what I’m going through. Someone’s offering real solutions instead of empty encouragement and fucking breathing exercises. Someone’s treating me like a valuable asset instead of a problem to be managed.
My fists ball at my sides when I pass the restaurant. A quick look through the front window confirms that Zane, the coaches, and GM are still finishing their dinner.
If they want to exclude me from conversations about my career, maybe it’s time I found people who actually value what I bring to the table.
I drive home with thoughts bouncing around my mind like pinballs.
For the first time in months, I feel like someone’s actually on my side, even if that someone is a complete stranger who knows more about my personal life than he should.
I shrug all of that off, though, because I need help and he’s offering it.
How bad could it be? I can always walk away if it’s not for me.
And right now, I need to take control of my own future and stop wasting my energy on things that were never going to be mine, namely Zane Christensen.