Page 53 of A Shot at Love
Chapter 25
“Again!” Frankie shouted from her position on the blue line. “Not good enough!”
Cam skated across the ice, stopping right in front of her as his chest heaved and beads of sweat dripped off his chin. “Coach, we’re dying. Come on, it’s good. We killed it on the power play in the last game, is this really necessary?”
”Clarke,” Frankie said, using the sternest coaching voice she had. “I appreciate your input but I don’t think I need to remind you who your coaches are. I’ve got fifteen more minutes on the ice with you today and I intend to use every single one. Run it again.”
She wasn’t punishing them, because Cam was right. Their power play had improved and the Valentine’s Day trip had been proof of that but she’d overheard a conversation between a trio of her players that morning as she was rounding the corner to get a coffee in the lounge room where players went to refuel with drinks and snacks before and after practices, and it hurt more than she realized.
One team with a female coach was bad enough, and we got stuck with the second? She should be coaching my sister.
And she’s probably gay which is a damn shame because she’s a fucking smoke show. We can’t even enjoy it.
Why don’t we just drop the dead weight and bring in a guy who actually knows what it’s like in the NHL instead of some inexperienced Disney princess lookalike plucked from the juniors so the league can check some bullshit inclusivity box?
They didn’t know she was there, and it was bold of them to openly critique their coaching staff in such a public space. Frankie had dealt with her fair share of harsh criticism since the season began and throughout her entire career, but hearing such cruel words from her own athletes, from men who were supposed to look to her for leadership, who were supposed to respect her – that cut incredibly deep.
And now she was making them skate their goddamn asses off. They might not respect her, but she could make them regret ever questioning her decisions. Not every player felt the same way about her which was a relief and in fact, a majority of the team had never been anything other than good guys who genuinely seemed to trust her decisions and wanted to learn from her, like Cameron Clarke.
There was a reason he was named captain and he’d lived up to the expectation, had taken on the pressures that came with the role with more grace and pride than Frankie had ever seen a player do in her years spent coaching.
However, root rot always started at the bottom and a few bad apples could easily turn into more, which is why they were now on their 10th rotation of the same drill.
She finally blew the whistle, calling an end to practice and as she turned to face the bench to gather her notes and her iPad, she deflated. It was easy to put on a brave face and act like the strong, confident woman everyone needed to see her as but she just couldn’t shake the way the words she’d heard earlier madeher feel.
“Hey, Coach.”
Frankie turned to find Cam leaning against the boards a couple feet away from her.
“What can I do for you, Clarke? Do you want a copy of the drills we did today?”
”Oh, uh, no…I'd rather not relive that if I'm honest.” He took a glove off and tucked it under his arm to wipe sweat off his forehead. “I was just seeing if you were doing okay. You don’t really seem like yourself today.”
He and Jules were so alike in the way they quietly cared about the people around them and she couldn’t help but smile. “I’m fine, but thank you.”
“Okay, good. Just…just let me know if you think anyone on the team has stepped out of line, okay? As the captain, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Frankie wasn’t going to tell the captain of the team that a group of his teammates had no faith in her ability, that wasn’t her relationship to tarnish and when it came to what went on in the locker room, it wasn’t her place. But Cam seemed concerned and she could see it in his eyes, an identical shade of blue that matched Jules, that he meant what he said. That if he needed to, he would step in and use the responsibility that came with his role.
Frankie nodded resolutely and Cam did the same before he put his glove back on and skated off the ice.
When she got home later that day, dropping her keys in the bowl by the door and kicking her boots off to the side on a mat, she was drained. Not only from the work she’d done on the ice, but emotionally.
To be dumbed down to a Disney princess lookalike for a coach was a new one, she’ll give them that, but it overlooked her accomplishments as someone working in sports and to put it simply, felt really shitty to hear.
She dropped her work bag on the kitchen island and trudged across the floor towards her bedroom where she stripped and climbed into the large glass walled shower in her en suite, turning the water as hot as her skin could take it, hoping to burn away the day’s disappointment.
It might be nice, she thought to herself, to be washed down the drain with the water, to get away from the criticism for a little while, to give herself timeto remember why she was even doing the job in the first place, and then she thought of Jules. Seeing her now would make Frankie feel better, would give her some relief after a really, really hard day.
Once she was dressed and a little more relaxed, she sat on her couch and opened her message thread with Jules. The last time they’d spoken was earlier that morning and Jules had texted that she hoped Frankie had a good day on the ice.
It was sweet and had been comforting at the time. She only wished she could say that a good day is what she’d had. She’d had…a day. That’s all she could say about it.
Frankie – 3:37PM
Hey you! Want to come over and watch a movie tonight?
I promise to keep my hands to myself.
