Page 154 of Uncoachable

The room breaks into a collective laugh.

“But it was worth it. Every hit. Every bruise. Every late night in the film room. Every screw-up and every fight. Because we did it together.”

Cheers break out, sticks banging against lockers.

“We didn’t win because we were perfect. We won because we refused to break when the world tried to snap us.”

More cheers.

“And we didn’t do it alone.”

I glance at Ivy. She freezes, her eyes widening as the room follows my gaze.

“This woman,” I say, “held us together when everything tried to tear us apart. She believed in us when we were at our lowest. And we wouldn’t be standing here tonight without her.”

The team erupts into a unified roar.

I raise a hand, and the room quiets again, though the energy is still vibrating.

“Now… there’s one more thing.”

I look at Ivy. She nods—small, proud, steady. We talked about this before the game. She told me to do it my way, on my terms.

“This was my last game.”

Silence. Actual, ringing silence for the first time all night.

Then—

Cash: “I’M SORRY, WHAT THE—”

Nico: “No way.”

Kovács: “You’re joking, right?”

I lift my hands to quiet them. “I’m serious. Cash, sit down before you faint.”

Cash drops to his knees like he’s actually been shot. “MY HEART. MY ACTUAL HEART. I NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION.”

Nico kicks him lightly with a wet skate. “Get up, drama queen. Let him finish.”

Leo just looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

I continue, my voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve given everything I have to this game. Every ounce of my energy, my body, and my mind. And tonight… when that horn sounded, I felt it. The ending. The right ending. I want to leave on a high. I want to leave with this Cup, with this team, and with all of you.”

The room is quiet now—emotional, stunned, raw. These are men who have looked to me for leadership for years, and the weight of that responsibility is finally lifting.

Then I add, softer, looking directly at the woman standing by the door:

“And I want to start the next part of my life with her.”

Ivy’s breath catches, her eyes swimming with fresh tears. Everyone around us is quiet, watching the moment unfold.

“You know what they used to call me?” I say, a huff of a laugh escaping me. I look at the guys, then back at her.

“Uncoachable.”