𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 ── a. banks¹

𝟬𝟬𝟯. new coach

─────────────
Chapter three — new coach
TW: foul language

October 6th, 1992
Cassie Conway

POWDERHORN PARK WAS ONE of the only parks we had on our side of Minneapolis. It was just a pond with a few benches around it but the rink was all we could practice on.

Charlie and I hopped off our bikes and walked them over to the bench where we had our bags, bikes, and all of our other hockey equipment. Coming to the pond every day after school was something we did unless it was raining, snowing or the park was closed. 

Our goalie, Goldberg, saw us and hollered, "Hey, Conways!" as the rest of the team skated towards us, greeting us as we laced up our skates.

"Hey guys," I said as I put my gloves on and stood up in the snow. The team and I started chasing the puck around as Goldberg watches Charlie approach him. Charlie has a lot of determination to be a good player, but he has little skill to project it. He sticks handles the puck through a string of Coke cans Guy had set up before we got there. Charlie's skate catches a can, and as he falls to the ice his stick hits the puck to the goal.

"Nice shot!" I say before the puck goes into the hole and sinks like a rock to the bottom of the lake. All of our faces dropped since the only puck we had was now the Fishes puck. Luckily I had another one in my bag. As I got up I saw our other teammates Karp and Peter were giving Charlie shit about losing the only puck we had.

Karl lightly pushes Charlie's shoulder "Nice shot, Spazway." He said as Peter laughed, "You couldn't do that again if you tried." the two boys laughed as Charlie rolled his eyes.  We all part as I put one of the traffic cones nearby on top of the hole in the ice.

"Goldberg, in the net!" I called. He steps between the pipes as I line up more of my pucks to start shooting pucks at Goldberg. He's not the best goalie, but he's all we got.

I continued to shoot the pucks as Goldberg, but he hardly tried to stop them before he started complaining. Shooting a puck a little higher, he finally cracked and started complaining.

"Keep it down, please," he complains. I ignored him, pulled another puck to me and shot it at him.

"Hey, Cassie! Please calm down, there's no need for this!" he complains. I ignored him once again and kept shooting "Let's talk, come on! I'm your friend, aren't I?" he asked.

Rolling my eyes, I stood up and rested the blade of my stick on the ice. "Come on, Goldberg. At least try to stop it," I complain as Charlie skates over. "I'm getting tired of chasing the puck." I finished. Looking to my left I saw a car starting to drive out on the ice.

I ask, "Is this guy stupid?" as the team gathers beside and next to me. Does this guy even know he's driving on a frozen pond with kids on it?

"Oh man, we're dead." Peter says before I smack him in the chest and give him the 'shut the fuck up' look. Charlie skates to my side and puts a hand on my shoulder, "It's drugs, I just know it."

The team watches as the car approaches us. I step in front of everyone as they talk behind me. When the limo stops in front of us, we take a step back. Looks like a businessman who steps out of the car. He closes the door with his gloved hand and steps out in front of the car as we all inch forward.