Page 81 of Man Advantage

“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

Halsey approached, laptop tucked against his side. His gaze flicked to Cole’s hand, still resting at Ford’s back, before he looked Ford in the eye.

“I pulled Rockford’s power play from their last three games,” he said. “Can we go through it tomorrow?”

Ford glanced at Cole. This time, he didn’t step away before answering.

“Bring it to the video room after practice,” Ford said. “We don’t have much time before my surgery. Let’s use it.”

TWENTY-FOUR

Halsey stopped the clip before Rockford’s pass reached the slot and dragged it back to the beginning. Ford let him watch the setup again without offering the answer. Tomorrow night, Ford would be home after surgery while Halsey stood in his crease, and there wasn’t another practice left to fix whatever the kid still couldn’t see.

The puck moved from the half wall to the point. Halsey paused the video himself this time.

“There.” He pointed at the screen. “Their weak-side forward moves down before the defenseman gets the pass.”

“So what are you watching?”

“The guy with the puck.”

Ford waited.

Halsey leaned closer to the screen. “I need to check the back door before it gets to the point.”

“You need to know where he is every time the puck changes sides.” Ford reached for the remote, then left it on the table. “Run it.”

Rockford completed the pass, but Halsey was already talking through the rotation. He caught the screen at the moment the goalie pushed across and pointed out the opening before Ford could ask.

Ford looked down at the notes beside the laptop so Halsey wouldn’t see how hard it landed when the kid found the opening without his help.

Halsey started the next clip. “Do you think they’ll keep trying it if I stop the first one?”

“They’ll change the look until they find one you don’t read.”

“Helpful.”

“You want me to lie?”

“No.” Halsey sat back and rubbed both palms over his thighs. He had showered and changed after practice, and his hair was still damp along his forehead. “I want you behind the bench.”

Ford looked at the frozen screen. “Deluca would throw me out before warm-ups ended.”

“You know what I mean.”

He did. Halsey had started asking what Ford saw instead of defending every mistake, and Ford had learned when to explain and when to let him find the answer himself. Neither of them usually said what those hours in the video room had come to mean.

“I want to be there too,” Ford said.

Halsey nodded, his attention fixed on the laptop. “Are you going to watch?”

“If I can stay awake.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Neither is your penalty-kill save percentage.”

Halsey looked offended for half a second before he caught the edge of Ford’s smile. “Asshole.”