“You’re not my type.” I toss the puck to the ref.
Our guys feed off my energy. Rigsy scores on a breakaway. Martinez adds another on the power play. Our captain gets an empty-netter when they pull their goalie in desperation.
Final score: 3-1. Back-to-back wins. Sixty-six saves on sixty-seven shots for the weekend.
Coach claps me on the shoulder. “Whatever you’ve changed, Becker, keep doing it.”
In the locker room, I check my phone again. Nothing from Forest.
I open the chatbot. How do I convince the hot bartender to bring me home again and fuck me? He had a really good time the other night. I don’t know why he’s ghosting me now.
The AI thinks for a moment:
Perhaps he’s not ghosting you but simply busy. Or perhaps he’s a one-and-done kind of guy. Or perhaps he’d like to text you, but he’s trapped under something heavy.
Even AI is punking me now. Still, when I cram my long legs into a coach seat for the three-hour flight back to Denver, I pay for the WiFi like a loser and keep my phone in my lap on the way home.
Which is why I notice right away when I get a new text from a strange number.
Hi Beck, this is Coach Powers from the Cougars. Congratulations on your two wins this weekend.
I almost drop my phone. This can’t be a real text. In fact… I hike myself up a few inches and look around the plane at my teammates. Someone must be playing a trick. But nobody seems to be looking at me. Everyone is asleep. Rigsy is legit drooling on Martinez’s shoulder.
Huh.
I sit back down again and stare at the text. I guess it won’t hurt to reply.
Thank you, Coach! Happy to put up some great stats.
I read it twice before hitting send. But for once I didn’t include any obscure trivia or awkward bits and bobs.
Powers
A little bird told me that the worst beer league team in Colorado got their ass whooped a couple nights ago, with the help of an unfamiliar goalie.
Oh God! This might even be Coach Powers. He knows. But how? He’s like the Eye of Sauron.
Oh wait, some of the Cougars staff are on the Stickhandlers.
Okay, think fast. For once in my life, I actually play it cool.
Beck
Did they now? I wouldn’t know anything about that. Must have been a one-off.
Powers
That’s what I was thinking. It would have to be a one-off, because a pro player can’t really step out on his team like that.
He would never.
Well not usually.
I cringe, and consider adding, please don’t fire me, sir. But I don’t have to, because the next message from the coach isn’t what I’m expecting.
Powers
Let’s have lunch sometime soon. Right after New Years? Maybe Jan 3. We’ll just have a check in, you and me.
