Chapter 0488

Enzo

The clatter of hockey sticks and the distinct screech of skates cutting into the ice enveloped me as Tim and I entered the arena. It was a different vibe than what I was used to back in Mountainview-less polished, maybe a little rougher around the edges-but it was hockey, and that was home enough for me.

"As you can see, we're already underway," Tim said, gesturing toward the scrimmage taking place below us. "But I'd like to hear your first impressions. And don't hold back."

We found a decent spot to watch from and settled in. For several minutes, I just observed. The team had heart; that much was evident to me. But they also displayed glaring inadequacies.

Their passes were always just a little too long or a little too short, shots were mistimed, and their defensive formation looked more like a scattering of bodies rather than a cohesive unit. It was immediately clear that they had little chemistry on the ice, unlike my team. But it was fixable.

Tim leaned toward me, his eyes fixed on the game but clearly attuned to my reaction. "So, what do you think? Any initial thoughts?"

inconsistent, they're either overshooting or hesitating. That's something we'd need to drill in practice. Also, defensively, they're reacting rather than anticipating the play. It's costing them valuable seconds, and in hockey, that's a

face showing no trace of defensiveness, only an open willingness

team once more. "Equipment," I said. "I noticed some of them are skating on worn-out blades, and a couple of them have sticks that have seen better days.

the bridge of his nose. "I hear you, Enzo. But unfortunately, equipment is a difficult issue. Funding's always been

a new sense of resolve forming inside me. "When I come in the fall, I want to hit the

"You're already thinking

strangers sharing the ice rather than a unified squad. "And besides, I can tell that their camaraderie is lacking. Fundraising

smile, one that crinkled the comers of

a fantastic addition to the team, Enzo. I

buzzed insistently in his pocket. "Sorry," he said with a sigh as he stood,

attention to the scrimmage. Already, the gears were turning in my head

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