Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Looking down to see my father texted me.
Dad:
Have the best first day. Send us a first day on the job picture.
I smile and shake my head but do it anyways with me scowling and holing up a thumb.
Getting out of the SUV, I head over to the silver stainless-steel door that you need a pass to go through.
I take my pass out and scan it, watching the red light turn to green before the door unlocks and I step in. The office space is eerily quiet, which is normal since we start at nine today, but I came in to hit the gym for an hour before I head to my desk and start reading the notes from yesterday. We started training camp two weeks ago but today everyone is back, including the players who have official contracts with the club. I’ve made it clear to the GM two weeks ago that regardless of if they have a contract or not, if they are going to half-ass training camp they’ll be shipped to the farm team. He was not thrilled with this news, since he has a budget to account for, but I couldn’t give a fuck less. I want to win games and I’m not going to do it with people who aren’t going to give it their all. I walk down the black carpeted hallway to my office in the corner, which was Martin’s office until his last day here three months ago. He was half out by the time the draft came, and I was officially in the head coach position.
The office is bare, with a desk in the corner so I can have space for a couch that I don’t even use, but Martin had it in here, so I kept it. I don’t even think anyone has ever sat on this couch, to be honest. There is a small mini fridge in the corner of the room behind my desk, fully stocked, even though I haven’t touched a drink in there. I leave it stocked for when people come into my office. I toss my binder on the top of the desk before walking back out. The rest of the office doors are closed and the lights are off. As I head toward the gym, I spot the people in the kitchen setting up. “Morning!” I holler as I walk by and a couple of them look over at me confused that someone is here so early.
I walk into the gym, taking off my sweater and tossing it to the side before walking over to the television in the corner and turning it on to Sports Center. Once that is on, I get on the bike to warm up for ten minutes, watching what is going on with other teams. I do cardio for about fifteen minutes before moving to my weight training.
I’m heaving when I grab my sweater and walk out of the gym. The lights are now on everywhere since it’s after eight. I stop in the kitchen and start making my protein shake, taking out some frozen fruit and then blending it. “Hey, Coach.” I look over my shoulder to see Eric, my second assistant coach, walking in. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah, I was in the gym,” I tell him and he nods. “I’m heading to my office now to go over the notes from yesterday’s practice if you want to join me.”
“Will do,” he confirms, and I walk back to my office and toss my sweater onto the couch before pulling the black office chair out and sitting down. Grabbing the leather binder and unzipping it, I take out the notes from yesterday that I collected from Cam and Eric, along with a couple of the hockey development coaches. I also grab the printout sheet that was given to all of us with the players’ names, position, and the rest of their stats, including weight and height.
I hear more people arriving as Cam sticks his head into my office. “I’m here. I have things to do.” I look up at him and nod my head, keeping the comment that he should be in here going over the notes with me since he’s my assistant. But if he doesn’t see that, I’m not going to point it out to him.
Eric comes in a couple of minutes later. “Where is Cam?”
“No clue, he said he had things to do,” I reply and watch Eric’s face turn confused. The cup of coffee in his hand goes to his lips as he mumbles something.
“Okay, let’s go over these names,” I suggest as he sits in the same seat I sat in when my life changed five months ago. “We have fifty-five players trying out,” I tell him and he huffs out. “Thirty-five forwards, seventeen defensemen, and three goalies. Lucky for us the goalies are not our job. I’ll leave that up to Andrew.” I mention the goalie coach. “He’s been doing this for the past ten years; he knows more than me.” Eric nods at me. “We have to be on the ice from ten,” I tell him, “until four, rotating every hour and a half.” He nods at me. “I want you on the ice with me. I am going to have Cam go over the plays with the guys before they get on there, so we aren’t wasting time.”