Free Power Play by Eric Walters Page A

and his insisting that I drink to begin with.
    “I wanted Coach Connors here this morning since it is because of him that you’re even here at this camp.”
    Both at the camp and in trouble.
    “I think we should start with you apologizing to Coach Connors.”
    I almost laughed but caught myself. I was going to have to apologize to the person who’d got me into trouble to begin with? But what choice did I have?
    “I’m sorry … really sorry,” I said.
    “I believe you,” Coach Connors answered. “And I want you to know that I accept your apology.”
    He came forward and offered me his hand. We shook, and then, with his back still turned to Terry, he winked at me. He sat back down.
    “You have a good friend in Coach Connors,” Terry said. “He is the one who should be most upset and disappointed in you, perhaps the one who should most want you punished, but instead he’s spent the morning defending you.”
    I appreciated that. A lot. My father had never defended me. Although, really, was Coach defending me or protecting himself?
    “He told me about your circumstances,” Terry said.
    What did he mean by that?
    “You and I talked about the home situation, so I know about your father, but Coach Connors also told me about the difficulties in school, the impulse issues around temper and fighting. He convinced me that we shouldn’t go with a
death sentence
and kick you out of camp.”
    A wave of relief washed over me.
    “In fact, we’re not even going to call home to inform your parents of what happened.” He looked at Coach Connors, who nodded sympathetically. “Coach Connors felt your father would overreact, possibly take it out on you.”
    “Thanks, really, thanks.”
    “Instead, as punishment, you are not allowed to leave the building unless you’re under the supervision of a coach. Do you understand?”
    “I understand and I’m grateful. Thanks for giving me another chance. I won’t let you down … again.”
    “We’re counting on that. Now go, get breakfast, and get suited up and ready to play.”
    I got to my feet and shook hands with both men.
    “This is for you,” Terry said as he pressed something into my hand. “It’s my business card. It has my e-mail and my office phone number. And on the back are my home and cell numbers.”
    I turned it over. There in pen were two phone numbers.
    “I don’t know where you’re going to be next year, but this is more than just about you as a hockey player. This is about you as a
person
.” He paused. “If you need me, you call. I’m only a phone call away.”
    More empty words.
    “Thanks … thanks so much.”
    I tucked the card into my pocket.
    “There are lots of things to consider. It’s not about making mistakes,” he said. “It’s about what we learn from those mistakes.”
    “I’ve learned, sir, and I won’t do it again.”
    “I’d like to believe you. Go and have breakfast and I’ll see you out on the ice.”
    Coach Connors followed me out of the office and closed the door behind him.
    “He still likes you,” Coach said.
    “That’s good … although I’m not sure he likes me that much.”
    “He likes you enough not to kick you out of camp. You know, he’s like an institution around here … there are lots of snakes in this business, but he has integrity. That’s why we’re such good friends.”
    “So he meant what he said about me calling?” I asked.
    “He meant it.” He paused. “But remember, he’s a pretty busy guy, and talking to him about problems might work against you the next time. So … just play it cool.”
    “That’s what I figured.”
    “Besides, it’s not like you have a drinking problem … other than your father’s drinking.”
    That sounded right to me.
    Coach threw an arm around my shoulders as we walked down the hall. “You know I had no choice,” he said. “I couldn’t tell him.”
    “I know.”
    “You handled that well,” he said. “I want you to know that I appreciated what you