Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(12)
Speaking of alpha… Standing sentry in the far corner is a formidable-looking guy we all know to be Phoenix’s bodyguard/husband, Tarik Marx, also known as the Arrows’ spokesman. As much as I’m used to seeing him and Phoenix together, it’s a little odd not to see their wife at their side. Then again, I know Mia doesn’t have much to do with the team in this regard. She’s a smart woman.
The last of the players arrives, and Coach closes the door, then leans against it. His attempt to appear laid-back is not quite working. Then again, it’s definitely going to be bad if Coach thinks we’re going to try and make a break for it.
5
Kingston
As hurried as they’d been to get us into the room, it takes nearly half an hour to get everyone settled down. A few guys opted for coffee, all of them bitching that we weren’t treated to breakfast, which is the norm. I can’t say I blame them. My brain is a little fuzzy from lack of food, but I’m ready to get this show on the road so I can get on with my day.
I watch as Spencer and Phoenix go their separate ways. Phoenix turns to speak with Coleman, while Spencer makes a beeline for the back, taking the empty chair right beside me.
“What’s up, Rush,” Spencer greets quietly, clearly not expecting a response.
I offer a curt chin nod, but I remain silent.
“So glad you boys could show up on time today,” Coach says, still maintaining his position against the door.
A few grunts rumble from the group, but no one speaks.
“I’m sure every damn one of you would prefer to be out on the ice, but as you already know, we’ve got more important things to discuss before we can get this season underway,” Coach rattles, his eyes snapping from one player to the next. “Think of it as the first day of kindergarten when we gather around and go over the rules, because clearly no one has ever gone over them before. I’m hoping since we’re starting off this way, we’ll figure out how to not screw this season up the way we did the last two.”
Taking a deep breath, I lean back in my chair, plant one ankle over the opposite knee, and give Coach my best f*ck-off stare. I get it. This meeting is long overdue, even I have to admit that. Still, I can tell by the tone that it isn’t going to be pleasant. Sure, the coaching staff has the right to be worried about all the shit that’s going on specifically after our less-than-stellar seasons. The fact that we f*cking came in last place two years in a row, while we managed to get into a heap of shit thanks to some individuals’ personal matters—of which I’m smack in the middle—a stern talking-to is certainly warranted. From the looks of this circus show, they’re hoping this year will be significantly different. Although they might not believe it, I’m on board with that plan. However, I prefer to be spoken to like an adult and not a recalcitrant child.
Phoenix steps forward and all eyes go to him. “I’d like to introduce you to Phil Carson.” Phoenix nods in the direction of the suit standing a few feet to his right. “He’s the team’s general counsel, and he’s here as a personal favor today.”
Great. Do we need a f*cking lawyer? Especially one who makes guest appearances?
“I’m going to get right to the point. I get it. No one’s perfect, shit happens, it’s not what it looks like, and all that bullshit. I’ve heard it all, as have you, so I’m not gonna stand up here and reprimand you like a bunch of f*cking five-year-olds. You’re grown men. Man up and own your shit. It’s your responsibility.”
Phoenix glances around the room slowly, meeting everyone’s gaze, including mine.
“But what I am gonna tell you is that we won’t have another year like the last two. This team went from being on top of the world to being the f*cking algae beneath the rocks at the bottom.” The frustration in Phoenix’s tone is thick. “The media’s been having a field day because, along with repetitive shitty seasons, many of you have provided them with enough broadcast ammunition to take out an entire f*cking country. For some unknown reason, you’ve been acting like a bunch of children with no parental supervision, and you’ve embarrassed me and the rest of this team.”
Pretty apt description, if I do say so myself.
Phoenix takes a breath. “But that’s behind us. This year, we’re starting anew. If you’re sitting in this room right now, it’s because we want you to wear the Arrows jersey. You’ll probably notice there are several people who are no longer here, and as far as I’m concerned, they don’t deserve to be. That’s the way it goes. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, and I’m only looking for guys who want to give me all they’ve got.”
Phoenix glances toward the door. “Coach Moen has some ideas on a few changes in the lines. He knows what he’s doing, and with some of the young players we’ve acquired, it makes sense.” Phoenix pauses as he glances at all the faces. “But it’s not only about how well you play on the ice that counts. It’s also about the fans. In fact, every single thing you do should have the fans’ best interests in mind. If it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t get the chance to shine, because no one would give a f*ck.
“We’ve let the fans down in a big way. Not only did we not live up to our potential on the ice, but we haven’t been putting them first. In case you didn’t notice, I purposely worked training camp so that we kept practices local this year. I want you to be accessible to the people who matter most. And you need to make yourselves available to them. Whether it’s a simple acknowledgement to the arena when you’re out there or it’s doing something for the community… That’s your job. They come back for you, not for the f*cking popcorn.”