Playing to Win

Friday.

The next night was the talent show. But first, we had a game. I arrived at the rink early, before anybody else except my dad.

“Jordan, what are you doing here so early?” Dad asked when I stuck my head inside his office without looking at the starting lineup. It never changed, so I didn’t bother looking. “Come in, sit down.”

I did as he asked, taking a seat in the cracked pleather chair in front of his desk. “I wasn’t doing anything at home, so I figured I’d get a head start warming up.”

Dad sat back, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he studied me. “Did you check the list?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

He raised his brows. “No? Why not?”

My heart lurched a little. “Because, it’s the same every week. Why? Should I?” I started to lift out of my chair.

“Wait!” Dad stopped me. “Yes, you should look, but first I want to talk to you about something.”

I sat back down, but I didn’t want to. Dang! Why didn’t I look at the list before walking in? How would I ever sit through one of Dad’s talks while wondering what was on that piece of paper?

Dad didn’t say anything right away, and when he did, I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “I didn’t tell you this when you asked me to join the team, but I already knew Asher would be transferring here.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I had to be hearing things.

“Asher Sloane is one of the best left wings in the northeast. I recruited him.”

He’d recruited Asher? “But, but why?” I didn’t understand. “You encouraged me to leave my team. You let me go through all of that just to ride the bench.” I stood up, my fists clenched at my sides. “How could you do that?”

Dad stood, too, and walked around to the front of his desk. “What have I always taught you, Jordan?”

“Play to win,” I repeated the mantra without even thinking.

Dad nodded. “Play to win. Every decision I make for this team is to that end. Winning games. This isn’t pee-wee’s, kiddo. My players move out and up.”

“I know that!”

Dad’s lips thinned at my outburst.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Jordan, if your team had been competitive, if I saw you improve by leaps and bounds each season, I would have never encouraged you to move to my team. I don’t enjoy watching you get pushed around by these guys who are a lot bigger than you. But I know your dream, sweetheart. I know you want to keep playing and this was the only way I could help you.”

“By bringing in someone better than me so I’d hardly ever get to play!” I bit my lip. I’d yelled at him again.

Dad looked down at his feet and sighed, weighing his words while I waited. Finally, he met my gaze. “No. I brought Asher here to make you better. I knew if you had to compete every week for the starting position, you would. I knew you’d work your butt off to play better than him. And you have.”

I scoffed. “I’m never going to be better than him. You just said he’s the best left wing in the Northeast!”

Dad nodded. “He is. And maybe you won’t ever play as well as him, but you are playing better than you ever have before and you’re playing better than Justin Painter.”

“Justin? You’re going to put me in as defenseman?” Seriously?

“No. I’m going to put Asher in as left defense and you in for left wing. Between the two of you, you’re both better than Justin. Even if you weren’t left handed. Justin doesn’t want it bad enough. Maybe if he worked harder- but, that’s a conversation for him.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Are you serious? You’re starting me?”

“Yes, Jordan. You’re starting.”

I threw my arms around his neck and whooped. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you!”

Dad laughed as he hugged me back. “Don’t thank me. Whatever you and Asher have been working on in the basement’s been making a difference.”

I pulled back with a frown. Really? I owed this to him, too? Even though Asher and I hadn’t been working out together, I’d been doing the things he showed me on my own. And it made enough of a difference I’d reached my goal to start in a game this season.