Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
The kids nod their assent.
“All right, then. That covers the rules. Have fun and listen. Now let’s get started.”
For the next fifteen minutes, King works on basic skating drills, emphasizing balance and posture, which is a slightly different skill on hockey blades versus figure skates. I just watch, absorbing.
He has them skate back and forth, calling out encouragement as he learns all the kids’ names. “Keep your knees bent, Carrie, and push off with the inside edges of your skates.”
I’m amazed at the ease with which he can communicate with kids this age. It’s obvious that King has a natural ability to connect with them, his instructions clear and inspiring. Even the usually distracted Amelia is focused, her pigtails bouncing as she tries to follow along.
For the last ten minutes, King moves on to stick handling. He produces a handful of pucks from his gear bag and shows the kids how to control them while skating. “Keep your blade on the ice and the puck close to it. Use only small taps to guide it in the direction you want to go.”
Some of the kids try to get fancy, picking the stick up to move the puck on both sides of the blade, but they lose control quickly. King is patient as he reins them in, telling them we have to start off slow and master the easy way first.
Max, ever the eager beaver, manages to knock his puck halfway across the rink. “Oops!” he exclaims, giggling as he chases after it. King grins and doesn’t get angry, despite the fact Max must not have had his listening ears on.
Instead, King calls out encouragement. “You’ll get it, Max. Just keep trying.”
As the practice continues, one thing becomes abundantly clear—they are having a blast, their confidence growing with each passing minute.
By the end of the session, although I’ve not contributed a single thing other than praise and a few moments of wrangling wayward kids, I feel an incredible sense of accomplishment. The kids learned a lot, but I learned more. King showed me that very simple skills are all that’s needed for this peewee league. While I’m sure he’ll level up the instruction, it really is about teaching them the basics. I now know enough I can handle reiteration of these skills at the next practice or game if he can’t attend.
But truly… I hope he can attend because it’s been a pure pleasure to watch someone so self-assured, kind and committed to these kids. I dare say… it’s also sexy as hell, and although I feel slightly guilty for even thinking that, I can’t help it.
King gathers the Pups in a huddle where I’m standing at the board. “You all did an amazing job today. Don’t you think, Coach Willa?”
“I do,” I say, clapping my hands. “We’ll keep practicing, and you’ll get even better.”
The kids cheer, their faces glowing with pride.
“All right… we’ll see you at the game Saturday. Try to be here at least fifteen minutes early if you can, fully dressed.” I then turn to the parents and call out, “Anyone have any questions?”
They all shake their heads and as everyone begins to disperse, I turn to King with a heart full of gratitude. “I cannot thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
King shrugs modestly. “It was my pleasure. You’ll do a great job whether I’m here or not because you understand the goals.”
Warmth spreads through me as I greedily accept his praise, something I’m not often given in my life. I’ve always tried to figure out how to do things on my own and when I’ve succeeded, I was the only one patting myself on the back.
Brittany approaches us, her arm around Izzy’s shoulders, her eyes cutting between me and King.
“King, this is my sister, Brittany.”
King smiles and nods at my sister, but his attention drops to Izzy. “The mom to the incomparable Izzy. Your skating today was amazing.”
Izzy grins up at him. “Aunt Willa practices with me sometimes. She wants me to be a figure skater, but I love hockey.”
“No one says you can’t do both,” King says, and I can see that this was never something Izzy thought about.
Her face screws up as she considers that. “Really?”
“Really,” King assures her. “I did lots of different sports growing up. I think it’s good to try them all so you can find out where your passion lies.”
Izzy looks dubious but then glances up at me. “Should I try figure skating?”
“Only if you want to,” I say with a smile.
Her gaze goes to her mom. “And piano?”
“Of course.” Brittany’s eyes slide to me. “Can I talk to you privately for a moment?”
“Izzy,” King says, getting my niece’s attention. “How about you help me pick up all the pucks from the ice?”
So sweet and thoughtful, essentially offering to watch Izzy. I smile at him gratefully and follow Brittany a few steps away so we’re out of earshot.