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“Second, we're working on some special events like open practices and autograph days. We want you to know us more up close and personal.”
A new round of applause spread through the crowd.
"And last but not least," Pete continued, "we're exploring partnerships with local businesses for some amazing Cougars merchandise you won't get anywhere else. It will be authentic, homegrown, and directly contribute to our community."
The cheers were deafening.
"So, there you have it," Pete concluded. "We've got big plans, and we want all of you to be part of them. We're not just investing in a team; we're investing in Cold Pines. In all of you."
I smiled as the crowd erupted again. Pete nailed it.
When the noise finally started to die down, Jane, a local reporter, waved her hand to catch my eye. "Can we expect any specific changes for the upcoming season now that the team is town-owned?"
I gestured toward Pete to answer.
"Well, the main change is we’re not packing up and moving to Massachusetts, which I'd say is a pretty big one." A few people gathered close and chuckled. "As for the rest, you’ll have to wait and see. Got to keep some secrets, right?"
A teenage fan shouted, "Pete, Hoss, are you guys gonna take us to the championship for a repeat?”
"Heck, yeah, we're gonna do our best. Right, Pete?”
"Absolutely," he insisted and handed me the mic.
"We've got the talent, drive, and most importantly, the best damn fans in the world." I gestured around the packed arena. "With you all behind us, how can we lose?"
I fielded another question from Mrs. Brown, a local elementary school teacher. "How do you feel about the community's role in keeping the team here?"
"The community's everything," I said, not missing a beat. "You're not just fans. You're our neighbors, friends, and family. You're the reason we fight so hard on the ice, and you're the reason we fought to keep this team here.”
Here, here!" someone shouted from the crowd, and then they were suddenly all shouting, clapping, and whistling, and I felt that rush—the same one I felt the first time I ever stepped onto the ice. Only this was bigger because it wasn't just about me, or Pete, or any one player. It was about all of us.
I felt a quick pat on my back as Pete turned to the crowd. "Alright, folks, it's been an emotional day, and this guy and I still have a lot of planning to do for the next season. But keep an eye out. We've got more announcements, more news, and more surprises on the way."
"More surprises?" I feigned shock. "Man, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."
Pete chuckled. "Well, life's not fun without a little suspense."
* * *
It didn’t take long for Pete to pull one of his surprises. The next day, he organized a public street hockey game downtown in Cold Pines. We spilled out onto Main Street, right by the old, faded mural of a cougar.
“That one needs a new paint job,” I announced.
Waller set us up as he hauled a crate of street hockey equipment out of his truck, pucks and sticks tumbling onto the asphalt.
"Man, do you just carry this stuff around with you?” Jensen asked, grabbing a stick and swinging it around a few times.
"Hey, you never know when a hockey game might break out," Waller insisted.
Pete caught my eye. "Captains?" he asked.
"Do we even need to discuss this?" I smirked.
“Okay, folks, Team Hoss and Team Pete. Schoolyard pick, let's do it.” Several locals joined in, all shuffling together, hoping to be picked early.
A few minutes later, we had our teams set. I eyed Pete's lineup. He had Jensen and Taylor. It would be a battle.
"Feeling good about your picks?" Pete taunted.
