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I looked at Pete, and our eyes met for a brief moment. He appeared happy but also contemplative as if he was measuring this victory against greater ones to come in the future. Then, he gave me a nod—a simple gesture to acknowledge we were on the same page.
“Enjoy tonight, men, but remember, if you play like this, we’ll be in the playoffs come season’s end. We've still got work to do. Let's bring this spirit into the next game, got it?”
Everyone nodded, the room filled with the clatter of gear being packed and players sharing highlights of the game they’d just played.
In the chaos of the ongoing celebration, I almost missed Eddie’s exit. He vanished from the locker room's buzz like a firefly retreating into the darkness.
I found him holed up in an equipment room, separated from the post-game clamor. I hesitated. Did he want his space? Screw it, my gut nudged me forward.
"Hey," I ventured, easing the door closed behind me. "You hiding?"
He glanced up, his eyes widening before a shy smile curled his lips. "Nah, just taking a breather, Coach. It's a little overwhelming."
I propped myself against a shelf overloaded with gear, nodding. "Nights like this, they're a whole other beast."
There was a sparkle in his eyes. "I can't believe I scored that goal. I know I can play well, but that…it’s surreal.”
"Better start believing it," I chuckled. "You've got the juice, kid. Tonight, just put it on display."
His cheeks flushed. "The team set me up, and you set up all of us, Coach."
I felt that right in the gut. It was a little signal that what we were doing wasn't just about sticks and pucks.
"Listen," I pushed off from the shelf, "I'm glad I could help. But tonight? That was all you. You've earned this, every damn bit of it."
He looked down, contemplating my words, then back up, dead into my eyes. "Thanks, Coach. That means a lot.”
I met his stare. It was time to be direct about the thoughts wandering through my mind. "Look, you've got a future here, but you’re likely to go well beyond Cold Pines, and there will be bigger games, tougher guys, more eyeballs, and way more pressure."
Eddie’s eyes opened wide.
"And when that comes," I let it hang for a second, "stay clear of leaning on stuff to cope. Look for people and talk to them. Alcohol and pills? They don’t have faces to smile at you or arms to hug you tight."
A fleeting shadow passed over his face, enough to tell me he got the message loud and clear.
"I don’t do those, Coach, and I won’t,” he assured me with a gravity that told me he meant it.
I nodded. "Good. Because if you play like tonight, you won't have many lows to worry about."
Eddie nodded, sealing a pact about much more than just the game.
I turned to leave, hand on the door. "They're probably looking for you, wondering where their hero snuck off to."
He chuckled, a genuine, unguarded laugh. "Yeah, better get back."
The victorious atmosphere permeated every corner of the locker room even after the players cleared out. I collected stray water bottles while Pete walked up to me.
"Hey, Hoss. Can we talk?"
I looked up, immediately curious. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” Tossing the bottles in the recycling bin, I zeroed in on him. I figured it was time for the talk I requested in a text message the night before.
Pete hesitated for a moment as he looked at me. "You were spot-on about Eddie. The kid's got game."
A half-smile appeared on my face. It was good to hear positives about Eddie. "Told you, he's got it. Just needed a nudge in the right direction."
Pete smiled, but it wasn't just a “good job” smile. There was something vulnerable in it. "Your pep talk did wonders."
I shrugged, "Eddie had it in him. Just needed someone to flip the switch."
