None of that changed what it had felt like on the ice.
We hadn't beaten Vancouver so much as survived them.
The locker room reflected that reality.
Nobody was blasting music or celebrating. A few players talked quietly while peeling off equipment. Others sat at their stalls staring into space with the exhausted expressions that followed sixty minutes of hard hockey and a result that could have gone either way.
The smell of sweat, damp gear, and melting ice hung in the air.
Coach Reynolds stood near the center of the locker room with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm. At sixty-three, he hadspent more than three decades behind NHL benches. He wasn't the kind of coach who threw garbage cans or delivered movie speeches. He had long since learned that professional athletes responded better to honesty than theatrics.
His gaze swept across the room. "We'll take the win."
A few players chuckled. Not because it was funny, but because everybody knew exactly what he meant.
Coach nodded toward the door. "Enjoy the next few days. Get some rest. Spend time with your families. Then come back ready to work because we have plenty to clean up."
Nobody argued. There wasn't much to say. We all knew we'd gotten away with one tonight.
Vancouver had outplayed us for stretches. Our defensive coverage had been sloppy. Our puck management had been worse. If not for a couple of huge saves from our goaltender and some fortunate bounces, the result could have looked very different.
My own game had been solid enough.
Tannen's hadn't.
I hated even thinking it.
The guy sitting beside me had been one of the best centers in hockey for years. I'd watched him take over games, drag teams through playoff series, and make impossible plays look routine.
Lately, though, something was off.
A missed pass here.
A lost faceoff there.
Turnovers that never used to happen.
Little mistakes that kept adding up.
Coach noticed.
The players noticed.
Most of all, Tannen noticed
People had started talking about it. Analysts. Reporters. Fans. Not constantly, not yet, but enough. The questions had begun creeping into interviews and postgame coverage.
Was Tannen playing through an injury?
Was he exhausted?
Had something changed?
Nobody seemed to have an answer.
Before the press conference, I had a feeling those questions would only have gotten louder. Now the media had something else to chase. Something else to speculate about.
I didn't exactly enjoy being the center of that circus. But if it bought Tannen a little breathing room, I could live with that.
