The Road to the Cup ~ Wattys 2015

Trouble

"Morning, Erin," Geno said as he joined me on the ice for suicides.

"Morning, Malkin," I replied, not breaking stride.

If it was possible, Geno turned a shade paler as the blood drained out of his face. The other guys who had heard this exchange had a similar reaction. They knew that today would be a difficult practice because I hardly ever called the guys by their last names any more, especially not Geno. I watched them mentally brace themselves before they joined me. I had a whistle hanging around my neck and my clipboard was on the bench; I was ready for today.

After more suicides than usual, I let the guys get water. Johnston looked me up and down and then nodded to himself. He grabbed my clipboard and read what I had written down. "This is identical to mine," he laughed, handing me my practice plan.

"Good that we're on the same page," I grinned, taking it. "Alright, gentlemen, let's start with a review of the fundamentals. Yesterday's game was a mess, but it's a mess we can and will clean up. We'll work on passing and shooting, since we already did skating."

"Then let's get started," Fleury said, knowing he'd be in net.

Practice flew by, at least it did for me; the guys probably found it to be a very long two hours. By the end of it, all of our ears were ringing from my whistle, which I hadn't used very often before then. The guys exited the ice with groans and sighs, and I knew that they would be feeling this practice for a little while.

"Well, Coach Fitzpatrick, is this how it always looks when you're mad?" Sidney asked me as we walked out.

"No, and I wasn't mad, just concerned about the team's future success."

"You're telling me you weren't even a little bit mad?"

"No, you guys had fun last night, which is what it's all about. If I was going to be mad at someone, it would have been Ovechkin."

"So, what does mad look like?" Sidney asked, leaning on my car.

"Some yelling, maybe some crying, and... silence," I shrugged.

"I don't like quiet. I want to know what you're thinking," Sidney tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Now? Or just in general?"

"Always," he kissed my cheek.

"Well, right now I'm thinking about how much I love you," I smiled up at him.

"How much?"

"More than you love hockey."

"That's not more than I love you," he smirked.

"I love you more than Geno loves being score," I giggled.

"I love you more than Kris loves his social media," Sidney replied.

"Mmm, that's a good one. I love you more than Phil Kessel loves cheeseburgers," I joked.

"I love you more than Neal loved fixing his hair," Sidney said.

"You guys are disgusting," Brandon said walking by us and sliding into his car.

"You're just jealous, Brandon," I stuck my tongue out at him like the mature twenty-eight-year-old that I was. Brandon laughed and stuck his tongue out at me before driving away.

"I'm going to head home, I have to clean and make sure everything is together. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Sidney replied, kissing me once more before we parted ways.

The next day we had an early morning skate before the game against the Capitals. After today, we'd head down to Washington D. C. for two games. I was praying to the hockey gods that we'd come back to the Burgh following that.