A resounding chorus of “no’s” echoes in response.
“Okay, I have some new staff to introduce as well as some new players,” he says, then proceeds to do a roll call of the new faces. Each one stands as Coach introduces the latest members of the Vengeance, and he reads off their accomplishments and why they were offered a coveted spot on this team.
He’s just finishing his introduction of Noah as our new backup goalie when the door to the meeting room opens, and Riggs Nadeau walks in. He’s a big man, but it’s expected of a defenseman. I happen to know he’s incredibly light on his feet, which makes him especially dangerous on the ice.
His expression is one of bored indifference as he scans the area, not in the least bit concerned he’s walked in late.
Coach turns his attention to Riggs, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “Glad you could join us, Nadeau.”
Riggs merely nods, his silence disrespectful.
If this irritates Coach Perron, he keeps his expression bland, but there’s no mistaking Riggs has fucked up by how deathly quiet the room has become.
“Everyone,” Coach says with a sweeping hand at Riggs. “This is Riggs Nadeau. At this point, I’d go into his accomplishments, which led to a coveted offer on this team, but really, what I need everyone to know about the man at this moment is he has yet to prove he can be a solid member of the Vengeance. He doesn’t seem to understand I don’t tolerate tardiness, nor how disrespectful it is to all of us to come wandering in late without even an apology. Of course, I’ll have a private discussion with him about that later.”
Riggs seems entirely nonplussed by the dressing down in front of a room full of people. He merely stands there, staring at the coach and waiting for instructions.
Coach growls, pointing to the chairs. “Sit down, but plan on meeting with me later.”
Riggs shrugs, shuffling up the outer aisle to the back row, which is empty. All eyes follow him, players twisting in their seats to watch his ascent. When he slumps into a seat, I turn around and look down the row to my teammates. Jim shakes his head in disappointment while Jett makes a motion with his index finger slicing across his throat to indicate Riggs just killed his chances on this team.
Me… I’m not so sure. He’s a talented player, and I expect Coach will give him so many extra drills after practice he’ll have to crawl home, but I doubt he’ll get cut just for being late. At least this one time. Happens again, that’s another story.
Coach finishes the rest of the introductions before turning the meeting over to Dominik.
Even though he’s the owner of this team, one of the richest men in America, and is practically hockey royalty, he insists everyone on the team calls him by his first name. He’s just that genuine of a person. He walks up to the podium, and for the next fifteen minutes, he pumps us up. It’s clear his eye is on a repeat championship, and he’ll accept nothing less.
As he finishes, he pointedly looks across the room, a slow roving gaze landing on each player. He focuses the longest on Riggs in the back row before saying, “If any one of you here don’t feel like you have the heart to give me two hundred percent effort in this coming year, you’re not welcome here. I’ll find you a decent trade, and we’ll put someone in your spot we can count on. Otherwise, I expect in about nine months, we’ll be hoisting that Cup above our shoulders once more. Are we in agreement?”
The players and staff erupt in cheers, claps, and stomps. I twist in my seat to glance back at Riggs, who is giving a slow, insolent clap with defiant eyes leveled directly at Dominik.
Yeah… he’s pissed he was called out, but he’ll get over it.
After the meeting, we all head to the locker room as we’re going to run drills for the rest of the morning. We each have our own open-faced cubby where our practice gear is already neatly hung and waiting. We’re separated in rows by the line we play on, which means Riggs is nearby, just two cubbies down from mine.
I move over, tap him on the shoulder, and stick my hand out. “Riggs… I’m Kane Bellan. I’m fairly new to the team, too. Welcome.”
To my surprise, he takes my hand and gives it a firm shake but doesn’t give a reply greeting. I introduce him to Jim, Jett, and Bain, and handshakes are exchanged, but again, Riggs remains silent as he turns to his cubby and starts to get dressed in his gear.
I shrug and move back to my area, making small talk with my other linemates to dispel the awkwardness Riggs is creating. I don’t know what’s up his ass, but I’ll figure it out later.