Overtime

Prologue

Time: 12:36 p.m. Date: Sunday, August 17th

Location: O'Hare Airport

Point of View: Joel Quenneville

Joel Quenneville was many things. He was known to be cool, calm, and collected. Now, however, he was furious. So furious, he could feel his face heating up into an unflattering shade of red.

"What do you mean you can't find my luggage!"

He could tell that the airport attendant was flustered, what with the color draining from his cheeks at the same speed at which he was currently rambling. He almost felt sorry for the kid. Almost.

"What I mean, uh sir, is that we looked everywhere, and we cannot, uh, seem to find your bags anywhere." The kid winced as if he expected Joel to smack him. Joel was just contemplating the pros and cons of doing just that when he heard someone clearing their throat in an attempt to get his attention.

Standing there behind him in business-like attire was his good friend Mike Kitchen. By his side were four bags, one of which, he could clearly see held hockey equipment. Not just any hockey equipment, his hockey equipment. He could feel his shoulders slumping and a sigh escaping his lips in relief at the sight of his bags safe and sound and not lost. After the initial sound wore off, however, he could feel the anger towards his long time friend starting to build up. Before he could say something, though, Mike cut him off, "So I see you accepted my offer."

Joel knew exactly which offer he was talking about. Two weeks prior he had received a call from Mike at his home in Windsor. "A couple of my friends and I are starting up a travel hockey team," he had said. "It's here in Chicago, and we decided that we'd split the cost of the airfare in order to get you here. We need a coach, Joel. We know how much hockey means to you. Here in Chicago, hockey is not even acknowledged. It's all about football, baseball, and basketball. We want to change that." He paused."So, you in?"

It was a lot to take in for Joel. Move all the way to Chicago just so he could coach a hockey team? What about his wife and kids? What about his house and belongings? There was no way they could move in such a short amount of time.

"Look," he started, "I don't know, Kitch. I mean, I-"

He was again cut off. "All we want is for you to come out for a month, two tops. You could stay with us and if you really like it, then you could start looking for a house. Haven't you always said that one place you'd love to live would be here in Chicago?"

He had said that. Curse you, Kitch, and your elephant-like memory.

"Look, just think about it. Talk it over with your family. I'll email you all the information regarding the flight. I guess I'll see you then, should you accept the offer."

After talking it over and several frustrated evenings later, Joel had found himself packing anything and everything he needed for his trip to the Windy City.

Back to the present, and still a little fed up with the missing luggage fiasco, Joel wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard himself reply with, "No, I just came here to Chicago, at this time, for a completely different, unrelated reason."

Mike just laughed while urging Joel to follow him. "Come on, Jamie's probably gone already, or, at the very least, debating whether or not to leave."

Time: 1:08 p.m. Date: Sunday, August 17th

Location: Jamie Kompon's Car

Point of View: Joel Quenneville

"So," Joel began once they were situated in the car. "Remind me again, exactly who am I supposed to be coaching?"

Mike and Jamie shared a look before, finally, Jamie responded, "Well the league allows anyone from fourteen to twenty years old to play, so we thought we'd look at the local boarding school, Rockford Academy, for recruits."

"Wait, wait, wait," Joel interrupted, hands moving in the typical slow down gesture. "You called me down here to coach a bunch of kids?"

"Well, they wouldn't exactly be 'kids' per say," Mike explained. "More like 'teenagers.'"

"Plus," Jaime added, "look at all the benefits. They'd all be in one place so we won't have to worry much about transportation. They're young so they'd be around for a while, which also means speed. Think about it, if we can find enough players that are willing and able and coach and condition them correctly, then we could have one unstoppable team. The Stanley Cup would be ours!"

Joel sat there, lips pursed in thought. Stanley Cup Champions. Yeah, that sounds nice. Can I really shape a bunch of teenagers into Stanley Cup champions, though? Well, it wouldn't hurt to try, I guess.

Sighing, Joel rubbed his eyes before replying, "I guess I'll do it."

Jaime and Mike smirked at each other before Mike pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Rocky? Yeah, go ahead and post those flyers. We got ourselves the start of something great here!"