CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR #2
“It’s not just to hang out and drink in a queer bar with queer guys?” Ian asked, looking a little disappointed.
Nicky laughed. “Well, partly. But not the only reason. I wanted to talk about how things went for us in the postseason.”
The pieces finally clicked into place for Leif. Ahh, okay. This was another postmortem.
Ian made a face. “Terribly.”
“Well, yes,” Nicky agreed with a smile. “But my thought was how we could do better next season. I think a huge issue is team cohesion.”
“Agreed.” Ian took another sip of his drink.
“Yeah, Tanner actually said something really smart about that before the second round started,” Leif said.
Nicky frowned. “What did he say?”
“That forced team bonding is bullshit, and no coach can make a team come together by making us all stay together in a hotel during the playoffs.”
Nicky’s frown deepened. “Hey. How much do you talk to Tanner about the team? Because—”
“Not like that,” Leif said hastily, cutting him off. “I didn’t tell him anything the Harriers couldn’t learn from the media.”
“Okay.” Nicky relaxed. “It just hit me that they seemed like they knew all of our plays, especially Poole’s injury causing weakness on his left side and—”
Leif shook his head. Roman was being evaluated and might need surgery this summer. “Wasn’t me. I didn’t say a thing. Not to Tanner or to my dad. Must’ve just been good tape review.”
Nicky grimaced. “Shit. I’m sorry I insinuated that you would leak anything or—”
“It’s hockey,” Leif said, horrified that Nicky would even question it. Jesus, of course that came first. He tried not to let it sting that his captain had thought the worst of him. “You should know I wouldn’t.”
“The truth is, I don’t know you.” He glanced at Salty.
“Or Ian or half the guys on the fucking team. I haven’t been here.
I was only captain for a couple of seasons before I went out with the concussions and because of what I was dealing with, I wasn’t around nearly as much as I would’ve liked to be. ”
Leif nodded, understanding now.
“So I want to work on that, and I want the three of us to work together to make it happen. Do you have any ideas of how we can do that?”
“Get the homophobes off the team,” Ian muttered.
Nicky snorted. “I wish it was that easy. Oh, I do have some good news though. Pittman is gone.”
Leif and Ian both gaped at him.
Nicky nodded. “The announcement will go out tomorrow. They’ve already started the search for a replacement.”
“That’s something,” Leif said with a relieved sigh. Of course, it depended on who they hired. But hopefully the new ownership and new general manager would steer the ship in a different direction. A better direction.
Pittman wasn’t a terrible coach, but he was kinda old-school. Led with an iron fist and all that and he didn’t much like giving the few good prospects they had a real shot, but favored the older, more established players.
And look how well that had worked out for them.
“Your dad’s name came up in conversation, actually,” Nicky said, playing with his mocktail glass. “How would you feel about playing for him?”
Leif considered the idea. “We did fine at the North Atlantic tournament when he was assistant coach. And it’s not like it’s the first time something like that has happened in the league.”
“True. Well, I know they have a lot of candidates, but he’s definitely one of them.”
“That would be great,” Leif said. He knew becoming a head coach was one of his father’s goals. He liked being an assistant coach for Boston, but it didn’t seem like Hoyt Kent would be going anywhere any time soon and a chance to be a head coach for New York would be tempting.
Oh, but there was the Hawke situation. That could get messy.
“So, you don’t have to come up with anything tonight,” Nicky said. “But if you have ideas for how to increase team cohesion—other than tossing all the homophobes in the East River—I’m all ears.”
“What about some captains’ skates later this summer,” Ian said slowly. “Before camp starts?”
“I like that idea.” Nicky pulled out his phone and tapped something into it. “Something informal, just to get things rolling.”
“I know Boston has a lot of team events throughout the season,” Leif offered as he thought about things Tanner had told him. “They all have this bar they go to. Not O’Shea’s, but something like it. O’Neill’s, maybe? Anyway, it’s their team hangout spot. I think we should find a place.”
“Yeah, I like that.” Nicky typed some more. “Shame it can’t be here.”
Leif glanced around to the bar. It was getting packed. The music was louder now—a distinctly queer anthem playing in the background—and across the room, a drag queen caught his eye and blew him a kiss.
Leif smiled back at her before he faced his teammates. “Can you imagine?” he said. “Renner and Palmer would lose their shit.”
Ian giggled and Leif wondered exactly how much he’d had to drink so far. Ian didn’t drink much during the season either and he was probably as much of a lightweight as Leif was.
They brainstormed for a while longer and Leif offered to ask Tanner for suggestions.
Nicky got that faraway look in his eyes again and whispered, “Tanner Clayton on the Rockets. Can you imagine?”
Leif snorted because yes, he very much could imagine. He’d turn the team upside down in every possible way. Good and bad.
“We don’t know anything yet,” he warned.
But oh, how Leif desperately hoped it could become a reality. No matter how long it took, Leif wanted to play with Tanner instead of against him.
Wanted to have Tanner hogging the bed and talking in his sleep every night.
Wanted to see Tanner’s wild hair in the mornings as he stood in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Yeah, maybe he’d call him tonight. He couldn’t wait any longer.