Page 10 of The Callahan Effect

"Always a first time."

Ben Walsh accepted a coffee from Ethan before looking at me.

"Ignore him."

"I was planning to."

"Good."

Oscar nodded approvingly.

"You're going to fit in just fine."

The side entrance to the arena opened before anyone could continue, and conversation gradually subsided as Coach Callahan walked toward us carrying nothing more than a clipboard and a stainless-steel travel mug. He didn't whistle for attention or raise his voice. He merely arrived, and the parking lot stilled around him until the only sounds came from birds beyond the trees and the distant rumble of another vehicle entering the lot.

His gaze moved deliberately across the group, checking faces rather than counting numbers.

"Morning."

A chorus of greetings answered him.

"I trust you all remembered the one instruction I gave you."

Oscar whispered, "Bring deodorant."

Luca Moretti elbowed him.

Coach either hadn't heard or chose to ignore the comment.

"If you packed more clothes than hockey gear, you're going to regret it."

A ripple of laughter spread through the players.

"For the next five days, your schedule belongs to us." He gestured toward the men and women standing beside him—the assistant coaches, athletic trainers, equipment staff, physical therapists, and strength coaches. "Forget your phones. Forget social media. Forget everything that usually competes for your attention. This retreat has one purpose."

He let the silence settle over the group before continuing.

"Building a hockey team."

His gaze lingered on the newcomers.

"When you arrived this morning, you were talented hockey players wearing the same jersey. By the time we return to campus, I expect you to be teammates."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"Some of you arrive with impressive statistics. Others arrive carrying expectations. None of that matters once we leave this parking lot. Every season starts the same way. Nobody has earned a place. Nobody has earned ice time. Nobody has earned the right to wear an Evergreen Red Cedars sweater just because of what they accomplished somewhere else."

The words weren't directed solely at me, yet I felt their weight all the same.

"If you're willing to work for the player beside you instead of yourself, this retreat will probably become your favorite memory of college hockey."

A faint smile appeared.

"If you aren't..."

He shrugged.

"Long weekend."