“Right. I think this was all in its infancy when I was hitting my teens. I didn’t even know this organization existed until Demetrius told me. I spent my junior years in Chicago.”
“Well, here we are,” Jake said, grinning. “And we’re only going to get better, if I have anything to say about it.”
“I promise I’ll try to make a few practices, even if I can’t commit to anything more for now.” Daniel turned his attention back to the kids. “Brayden,” he called, “keep your head up and bend your knees a bit more! It’s important, pal. We’ve talked about this.”
“Yes, Coach!” Brayden yelled back. He leaned forward and started skating again. As of yet, he was the weakest skater on the team, but he’d made huge strides over the last couple of weeks.
Daniel nodded approvingly. “Good job, buddy. Keep going just like that.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Jake said. “Hope to catch you at a Strikers practice soon.”
Daniel had to smile. The guy was relentless, that was for sure. He shook the hand Jake had extended. “I’ll check my schedule. Good to meet you, Jake.”
“Same here.”
Jake wandered off, and Daniel refocused on his group. He clapped, drawing their attention. “Okay, kiddos, let’s start cleaning up these cones. It’s time to get ready for the practice game. Who’s ready for some three-on-three?”
Chapter Twenty
Micah took a seat next to Daniel, looking around the small arena. They were here to check out a team called the Strikers, a developmental league for potential future NHL players, the coach of whom had personally invited Daniel to come and observe.
“Are you going to try and recruit these guys to the Thunder?” Micah asked, glancing around. “They’re definitely bigger than the Rumbles.”
Daniel laughed. “They need a few years, yet.” He was looking around the small arena, smiling. He had a notebook and a pencil, the huge dork.
“Are we gonna have a test, later?” Micah teased, nodding at the notebook. “I am going to fail if I need to do that diagram thing with the circles and lines.”
“You can cheat off me,” Daniel said, but shook his head. “And no, but I thought... Well, Jake mentioned something about wanting my opinion so I figured I better be organized if I was going to talk hockey.”
They were here to watch a practice, not a game, and most of it made little to no sense to Micah. It was a lot of people in lines, skating from one side of the ice to the other and then back again. It was ridiculous how much time hockey players spent standing on skates, listening to a guy with a whistle and clipboard, and then suddenly moving fast and skating down the rink like they were being chased by a bear.
Even more mystifying was how Daniel just sort of knew what was going on. He didn’t look surprised at the sudden takeoffs or the truly terrifying moment when the entire team, or so it seemed, skated hell-bent toward the poor goalie and shot puck after puck at him.
“What is going on?” Micah asked, under his breath. “Is this what you do? All the time you’re at practice?”
“This, shooting drills, yeah, and stretching, then there’s skate drills and conditioning.” Daniel looked over at him and smiled. “You couldn’t swim with a dolphin before you could swim, right?”
“I think that’s not applicable, buddy, but thanks for trying.” Micah watched a little longer. “I have to say, I knew this took, like, a lot of skill and whatever, but I guess it never occurred to me how you have to learn all these little things before you can be in the NHL. Which is silly and obvious, I’m sure, but until I’ve actually seen someone doing all this—” Micah waved a hand. “It’s like you’re just good, so you go out and do it.” He had to laugh at himself. “Can you tell I never played any sports?”
“Well, just because you don’t know how to break down hockey into fundamentals and run drills doesn’t mean you don’t get the concept,” Daniel said. “You go to games and you see it all come together, right? Like your friend, Bethany, she used to be a ballerina?”
She’d mentioned that, what, once at brunch? Warmth surged through Micah that Daniel had remembered. “Yeah.”
“She’d say the same thing. All those practices breaking down small movements to put them all together.” He paused. “Probably with less, y’know. Aggression.”
“Uh, you should ask her about the 2012 Nutcracker performance sometime,” Micah said dryly. “And why she can’t ever go back to the St. Augustine Performing Arts Center.”
Daniel laughed, then turned back to the ice. A few minutes later, Clipboard And Whistle Guy came strolling over to where Daniel and Micah were watching. He looked like he would be equally at home as an extra in a military movie as on the ice, especially given how much he’d just been yelling. But he was all smiles when he came over, and shook hands enthusiastically with both Daniel and Micah, introducing himself as the Strikers’ coach, Jake.
“I’m glad you made it,” Jake said, and Micah had to hide a grin because the look he was giving Daniel was somewhere between worshipful and hopeful. And Micah was pretty sure it had nothing to do with how hot Daniel looked today, in his dark jeans and plain gray T-shirt, and more with his status as a hockey hero. Or whatever they were called when you knew what all of this was.
“You play, too?” Jake asked Micah, who held up both hands and shook his head.
“I would run screaming if all the players shot pucks at me like your goalie. Does he get hazard pay for that?”
Jake laughed. “Nope, he signed up for it. It’s how you learn. Easier to stop one shot if you practice stopping twenty, yeah?”
“Uh,” Micah said, shaking his head. “Easier if you stay in the car, but I’m not the hockey player so I’ll take your word for it.”
Jake grinned and clapped Daniel on the shoulder. “I don’t suppose you’d come down and talk to the team, huh?” He held up both hands. “I didn’t rat you out, but one of the guys is a huge Venom fan and recognized you. No pressure, but they’d love to hear what you have to say.”
Daniel looked pleased, which Micah could understand. He gave Micah a brief that cool? look, and Micah waved him off with a hand and a “I have a level of Best Fiends to crush, don’t worry about me.”
Daniel nodded and threw him a smile that would make it pretty obvious what kind of friend Micah was, but Micah could probably have arrived in some kind of terrifying mascot costume and the guy would only have eyes for Daniel. Relatable, so Micah settled in and opened his mobile game, glad he’d remembered to wear a sweater. He did not have the body for this sport. Why did it have to be ice? They lived in Florida.