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Luna laughs, but Alexsei is still frowning at her. "So Coach is feeling pretty good about our loss, then?"
She shrugs. "It was his idea. Cam and I asked him what would make him feel better." She shoots me a glance. "I could tell you in graphic detail how he explained it to us, but maybe we should go somewhere we can be alone."
Alexsei immediately stands from his stool. He tosses some bills on the table and says, "See you later, McNeill," then he’s dragging my sister out of the bar.
I shake my head and try to be grateful that at least she didn’t launch into those details with me sitting here.
I feel a hard slap on my back and look up as Blake Wilder, our goalie, joins me at the table. "You okay, man?"
I shake my head. "Not at all. You?"
I know he’s been beating himself up almost as much as I have. The winning goal for the Beavers slid past him after all. But it was my fault that it came down to a tied game where that one goal made all the difference.
"Feeling pretty shitty, to be honest."
Jack Hayes takes the seat next to him and reaches over to set another bottle of the beer I was drinking in front of me.
"It sucks," Jack agrees.
I welcome their company more than Alexsei’s.
I love Ryan but this is the energy I want right now.
I want fellow players to mope with.
"Can’t believe it came down to the last second," Jack says, shaking his head. "I’ve been replaying the game in my mind for the past twenty-four hours. It just sucks."
I nod. "Can’t even be upset about any calls. Can’t really point any fingers. Everybody played their hearts out."
Blake points a big, thick finger at me. "Including you."
I don’t make eye contact. I just lift my beer. "Yeah."
Wilder leans in, resting his huge forearms on the table. "Look, he probably wasn’t supposed to say anything. And I know I’m sure as hell not supposed to tell you what he said," the big man says.
I tense and look up.
"But Doc said that you’re taking it really hard." Blake shakes his head. "You can’t man. It’s not only on you."
Fucking Michael. Michael’s insight is awesome sometimes. And annoying as fuck other times. I’m not surprised he knows I’m blaming myself, but I was hoping the fact that he hadn’t pressed any deep conversations at home meant that he was going to let me just deal with it on my own.
I should’ve known better.
I also know that when I am ready to talk, if I need any advice or just to rant, Michael will be there for me.
None of us have talked about the game, hockey, or the Racketeers at home at all. We haven’t even talked about not talking about it. Last night after the loss, Dani simply met me at the door, wrapped her arms around me, and I carried her up to the bedroom, undressed us both and just held her. Nathan and Michael just left us alone, not coming to bed until after I was asleep. This morning Michael made breakfast like always and he and Nathan both went into the arena as usual.
Since I didn’t have any injuries to have the medical team check on, I stayed home. Dani and I snuggled and played video games and ordered food in for lunch.
I didn’t see Nathan or Michael before leaving to come join the guys down here tonight.
But we’ll probably have to talk it out, eventually. Hockey is a huge part of my life. Obviously, Nathan and Michael’s as well. The Racketeers is what brought us all together. And eventually I am going to have to apologize to Nathan.
I know that Nathan is pissed. I also know that he’s not specifically pissed at me. I mean, maybe a little. I didn’t play a perfect game. But Nathan doesn’t blame me for the loss. I know that. At the same time, I know the game was more than just a game. It was more than just his team losing.
Nathan wanted the championship for his grandfather, the previous Racketeers owner.
Stanford has Alzheimer’s, and is slowly but surely fading away. Nathan wanted this championship to happen while his grandfather was still aware enough to enjoy it.
