When the line went dead, Jett asked, “What was the watersports comment? He knows what his brother and I do.”
Harrison didn’t see a need to sugarcoat things. “He thinks we’re pissing on each other.”
Jett didn’t drive the car into a building, which was a win, but he did look like he had been slapped in the face. “What?!”
Harrison connected his phone to Jett’s car and found a description on Google, playing the text as sound for him to hear. With every word, Jett turned redder and redder.
“Okay! Stop!”
Harrison did stop, but when they pulled into the parking lot at the practice rink thirty minutes later, Ryan was there to greet them.
“You guys showered, right?”
Harrison
“Our next game is against the Ottawa Conclaves,” said Adams as he stood beside Harrison, watching with calculating eyes as Danny fastened the brace on his leg. “And we have a problem.”
Harrison winced as the laces on his skate were tightened. His leg was maybe alittlesore from all the skating and walking he had been doing. It would take time to get used to moving around as much as he had been lately, so pain was expected. He had bigger problems right now.
“Su-jin Park?” Harrison guessed.
“Jett is all we have right now who can keep up with him.” Adams’s gaze darted between Harrison’s leg and face, never quite meeting his eyes. “Park’s speed and power make him a bad match against us, and that’s why I’m hoping you can help me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” said Harrison. “You’re switching the lines?”
Adams showed no outward sign that he was surprised by Harrison’s guess, but he knew he was pleased. “I need you to build confidence in Cote before the game. He has to be on a line with Fraser and Bracken.”
“The first line.” Harrison stopped to do a check once Danny was done and gave him a thumbs up. “Hellström is okay with it, I’m guessing?”
“Luckily for Hellström, I take line reassignments seriously. I spoke to him, and he’s okay with it for this game, but he knows it will happen again.”
Harrison could understand why matching Cote with Jett and Bracken was a good decision. Hellström was an average to above-average player who was a great forward but was missing speed.
Jett was so fast he could turn a play around before the opponent’s defence realized he had the puck. Bracken was able to pull off half the passes he could because he expected Jett to be fast enough to find the open areas around the net. Having two quick players paired with Bracken’s passes could win a game, but Cote…
“He’s young,” said Adams, confirming where Harrison’s thoughts had wandered. “And it takes experience and trust in your team to go out there and play your best, which isn’t great for us because Cote is a rookie who has barely had time on the ice with the others.”
“This is a risky play,” said Harrison. “If you’re wrong, Park is going to skate off with the win, and Powers will be the one who suffers.”
“Park is an egotistical player,” said Adams. “Putting a rookie on the ice will throw him off more than anything else.”
“You’re planning on having Cote match shifts with Park?”
The Sunburst’s coach met his eyes for the first time, his lips twitching into a smile. “You are correct.”
Jett’s laughter lit up the room when his boyfriend took the ice. Harrison glanced toward him, and then to the young Niko Cote skating beside him.
What Adams was suggesting sounded crazy, but his outlandish tactics are what brought the team so close to winning last season. Not many teams would dare give a rookie so much skate time, but the Sunburst team consisted of veteran players who wanted to win more than they wanted to fight for shifts, which would always put them in a better position to advance.
“That’s an elephant-sized amount of pressure to put on him,” said Harrison.
Adams held up his tablet and started flicking his finger over the screen. “It’s good I have a consultant on my team who’s up for the challenge. I watched you during that match against Jett in Nova Scotia. You had very little to work with besides Townsend talent-wise, but you still walked away with the win. Those guys fought for you that day. Whatever you told them—it worked. I need you to do that again.”
Well-played, coach. Well-played.
Once all the guys were on the ice and warmed up, Adams blew the whistle and gathered them to the bench. His explanation was short and sweet, and left no room for arguments, of which there were none. Everyone gave Cote pats on the back and words of encouragement, and Cote kept his expression determined.
Good, the kid was ready to play hockey.
