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"I like it,” Pete said. He raised his coffee mug to meet mine.
With a low-key clink, we saluted the new day. We were caffeinated, synced, and ready to tackle whatever came our way.
Pete turned back to his laptop, calling up some stats on the screen. "I've got some ideas for new drills that'll knock their socks off. Or skates off, in this case."
"Can't wait to see 'em in action. What's the thought—skating drills, puck-handling?"
"Both, plus some endurance work. You're gonna love it."
I chuckled. "I’m sure I will. But speaking of loving things, I've been thinking about introducing our cougar mascot. Adds a little flair to the season opener."
Pete shook his head, grinning. "You and that mascot costume. Fine, but only for the season opener and community events that involve kids.”
"Deal," I said, my eyes drifting back to his laptop screen. "What about putting Gauthier on the second line during the power play? Could give us an edge."
"Brilliant. No wonder we make such a good team," Pete said, making a note on his laptop.
I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "This season's going to be amazing, Pete. I can feel it."
"I do, too." He closed the laptop and then opened a drawer, pulling out a small puck. It had "Cougars" emblazoned on one side, and as he flipped it over, I saw our initials—"H+P"—scratched into the other.
"For luck, for love, and for a killer season," he said, placing it next to our coffee mugs.
My heart swelled. It wasn't about the puck—it was about the intention behind it. "You're something else, Coach Z.”
"Just making sure we're kicking off this season right.” He nodded at the puck. “It also serves as a daily reminder of who I've got standing beside me."
That comment hit home and nearly brought tears to my eyes. The puck would stay on our desk for the rest of the season and, hopefully, for many more to come.
An hour later, the locker room buzzed with new season energy—veteran players caught up with each other while the rookies looked equal parts excited and nervous. Pete and I stepped in. The room fell quiet for a moment before erupting into cheers.
"Coaches!" Jensen called out, jogging over with Taylor and Waller close behind. All three were key players from the previous season, and seeing them back in Cougars gear was like spotting familiar landmarks in a newly renovated neighborhood.
"Jensen, Taylor, Waller—good to see you guys back," I greeted them, pulling each into a quick bro-hug. "Ready to take this season by the horns?"
"Born ready, Coach," Taylor beamed, clapping his gloved hands together.
Waller nodded, a bit more reserved but just as excited. "We've been looking forward to it."
"Speaking of which," Pete added, "we’ve got a few new faces around. Make sure you guys help them blend in, alright?"
Jensen grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Initiation rituals, you mean?"
"Easy, bud. Let's keep it toned down and save the pranks for the away games," Pete warned, wagging his finger.
Jensen chuckled. "You got it, Coach Z."
As the players dispersed, Pete gave me a knowing glance. "Shall we?"
I nodded. We strolled through the locker room, bumping fists and nodding at the players.
When we reached the door to the ice, the chill seeped in around the edges. I pulled it open and smiled at the chilly bite. We stepped onto the fresh surface, our skates carving the first grooves in the ice of the new season. Pete and I skated to the center, and the players formed a semi-circle around us.
"Cougars!" Pete called out, his voice echoing in the arena. "Welcome to the first practice session of the season. This is where the real work begins, where we shape ourselves into a force to be reckoned with. It’s where the skates meet the ice in our defense of a league championship.”
The players cheered, smacking their sticks on the ice in a rhythmic salute. The roar carried a sort of primal energy.
"We've got some new blood, some seasoned vets, and a hell of a lot of potential," I continued as I looked around. "Speaking of potential, meet your new assistant captains—Jensen, Taylor, and Waller.”
