Later That Saturday Night...

Since curfew was 9, Fulton and Dean had decided to sneak out the window of their dorm bedroom and tail it for the city to get ice cream and buy a bunch of things from a toy store.

Fulton had come across red, white, and blue face paint in the same canister he had his old black paint in, "Hey Fulton!" Dean was looking for him everywhere in the store with a bunch of things in his hand. "What are ya doing?" He came up to Fulton who was staring at the canister.

"Thinkin' 'bout Vicki. Probably gonna get this face paint for her." Fulton tossed the canister in his hand, catching it.

"Why would she want face paint?" Dean scoffed.

"It's a tradition, man," Fulton replied. "It's our tradition."

The two bought all the things they wanted and walked out shoulder to shoulder with giant yellow bags in their hands. Two girls then stepped out from a shop, walking in front of them.

"Fulton! Talk to 'em! Talk to 'em!" Dean whispered, nudging Fulton in the shoulder.

Fulton cleared his throat and traded places with Dean, "Hey ladies," He smiled and got the two girls' attentions. "Nice night for a stroll, wouldn't ya say?"

The two giggles and walked away. The two boys fist-bumped, "Man, no curfew is gonna keep us down!" Dean smiled. "Ice cream." He pointed to the ice cream store nearby, the two were about to go in when Coach Bombay and Marria walked out, both eating chocolate ice cream.

"Wait! I thought Iceland was covered with ice!" Coach Bombay walked arm and arm down the sidewalk, then he scooped some ice cream with his spoon from his plastic bowl.

"No, it's very green!" Marria smiled.

Marria licked her cone, "I thought Greenland was green."

"Greenland is covered with ice and Iceland is very nice," She then took another lick. "I would imagine Minnesota is like that, where you're from."

"How do you know where I'm from?" Coach Bombay looked to Marria.

"Well, I asked around." She explained. The two continued walking down the sidewalk while Fulton and Dean came out from behind a nearby tree.

"Look at this!" Dean threw his hand in the air, gesturing to the two. "She's an Iceland chick!"

"What's he doin' with her?" Fulton scrunched his face.

Dean shook his head, "Some coach we got." Then he walked away. Fulton looked at the two walking down the street and frowned, following behind Dean.

As Coach Bombay and Marria walked down the sidewalk, Miss McKay was out walking and enjoying the night when she saw Coach Bombay and Marria walking towards her.

She decided to stop the two and say hello, "Gordon!"

"Michelle!" He smiled, turning towards the darker blonde.

"Great night, huh?"

"Oh yeah! Definitely!" He then took another scoop from his ice cream. Marria looked between Miss McKay and Coach Bombay, clearly confused. "I'm sorry, Marria! This is Michelle McKay, our team tutor."

Miss McKay smiled as the two shook hands, Marria returned the smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Michelle." Marria replied in her Icelandic accent.

"Likewise," Miss McKay smiled. "I'm sorry, I hope I didn't ruin anything."

"Oh no!" Coach Bombay waved his one hand in the air. "No, not at all!"

"Even if you were, we're getting to know each other on a friendship basis," Marria smiled. "For the team of course." She added.

"Well, that's a nice gesture. Team bonding is a good thing." Miss McKay rubbed the back of her neck.

"Yeah, it is." Coach Bombay stared at Miss McKay. When she noticed, her cheeks started glowing a bit.

There was an airy silence between them, "I'll let you two get back to your night," Miss McKay half chuckled. "It was nice meeting you Marria," Miss McKay and Marria shook hands again. "I'll see ya tomorrow Gordon." Miss McKay smiled at Coach Bombay before walking off.

The next night (Victoria's POV)...

"Coach, why do I have to wear this?" I groaned while trying to pull the black Lacoste dress down. It felt like my butt was going to slip out if I walk or move. I did t really expect it to be this short, but to wear it to a game, in a hockey rink, is absolutely dumb.

"Because you have to." Coach said dryly as he smoothed out his slick back hair.

He was wearing a black suit, almost like the suits he used to wear when he coached D-5. My coaching whistle hung down from my neck as my hair flopped back and forth, put up in a ponytail with a black ribbon in the back to match my all-black attire. Looking down at my wrist, I fixed my hockey bracelet, so the words were facing up towards me.

I could hear the loud chatter coming from our team locker room, right before the two of us walked in, Coach clapped his hands together, "Alright, are we ready for warm-ups?"

Walking behind Coach, everyone was complimenting our outfits, "Woah! He's stylin'! Mr. Coach!" Connie smiled.

"Nice jacket, did ya get two pairs of pants with that?" Averman teased which made everyone laugh, even me.

Charlie, Banksie, Fulton, and Dean walked up to me, "That's some outfit." Charlie scoffed.

"Ya, I feel like every time I move my dress rides up my ass," I whispered, pulling the hem of the dress.

"And who's idea was it to make ya wear a dress?" Banksie started wrapping his stick with tape.

"Tibbles," I rolled my eyes at his name. "He wanted me to "look my best" and "match" Coach," I used my fingers to emphasize the words. "At least I got to wear my lucky bracelet." Holding up and shaking my wrist, the two boys looked at my wrist, Charlie smiled at the bracelet.

Overhearing a conversation between Dean and Fulton, they were talking with Coach, "Good night last night, Coach?" Fulton asked.

"Yeah, it was fine."

"What'd ya do?" Dean raised his brow, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh, I... just watched some TV, got to bed early." Coach stumbled with his words.

"But not without a little dessert, right?" Dean replied before walking away.

"A little ice cream, maybe?" Fulton added, which made the gears in my head start to turn.

Averman walked up to Coach, patting his shoulder, "Nice haircut, what, ya lose a bet?" He teased Coach. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes and looked back at Charlie and Banksie who apparently were also listening in.

For a quick second I saw the butt of Banksie's stick, he wrote "My Heart, Vicki" on his stick in permanent marker with a heart under it. Dad used to do the same thing, he would put moms and my name on the butt of his stick for luck. When they brought back home his body and his belongings in the car from the wreck, his lucky stick was sprayed in his blood when it was brought home. My heart stopped for a moment, I was feeling giddy but also upset since it reminded me of dad.

Coach then called everyone to the benches, so we could start warmups. The Iceland team was already warming up on the ice when we arrived.

When getting up to the benches, Coach elbowed me, "Hey, where's the clipboard?"

"I accidentally forgot it."

"Well go get it!" Coach snapped, making me jump a little.

Running out of the benches, I went to go get the clipboard from the team locker room. When coming out of the locker room with the clipboard, when I turned the corner, I bumped into something hard.

When I looked up, I saw Gunnar staring down at me with his hockey gear on, his stick in his hand and his helmet in the other. My blood started to boil as I balled my fists, then bitch slapped him across the face.

He grasped his cheek, "I deserve that." He mumbled, keeping his head in the same spot.

"The hell ya do! You liar!" I snapped at Gunnar when I tried to storm off past him but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards him, bringing me close. "Let go of me! I have no other words for you Gunnar."

"Vicki, please-" Gunnar started, his accent popped out and his eyes pleaded.

"No! Not Vicki! It's Victoria you liar!" I ripped my arm from out of his grasp.

"I wanted to protect you. I knew you wouldn't be able to handle the truth-"

I balled my fists again, "By lying!"

"I'm sorry! It was for your own good!"

"No, it was for your own benefit!" I stabbed his chest with my finger. "You were only being selfish and keeping your image squeaky clean."

"And I'm the only one with an image to keep squeaky clean?" He retorted, leaning against his hockey stick while holding his helmet. "I kept it from you because I'm only a player, you're a coach. Your face got slapped on the front cover of Seventeen and inside Hendrix catalogs, you have a reputation."

"And you don't, Gunnar!" I threw my hands in the air. "I have nothing else to say to you!" Walking back up to the ice with a red face, I went inside the benches.

"What took ya so long?" Coach said dryly, staring at the ice, watching our team warm-up.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I clenched my jaw, "Forgot where I put it." Then Gunnar came back out on to the ice, warming up with his team.

Out on the ice, everyone was hitting the goalposts for good luck while Averman was pretending to interview Goldberg, using his stick as a microphone.

A ref came up from behind the two, blowing the whistle, "K, gentlemen, let's play hockey!" He pointed at the two before skating off.

Both teams gathered around their coaches as we gave pep talks, "Let's go!" We all pumped our hands in the middle, breaking apart. The Iceland team did the same except they said Ísland (Eeee-sss-land).

Coach then looked over to Stansson who was already staring, "Good luck out there Coach!" He chuckled, giving him a thumbs up. "Your gonna need it." He said under his breath.

The players we sent out got into their positions. Jesse was going to start us off and apparently, "The Dentist" sent out Gunnar first. What was funny was that both player's numbers were 9.

"Farðu til helvítis." Gunnar said to Jesse while staring him dead in the eyes.

"What does that mean?" Jesse snapped back.

"You'll find out." Gunnar grimaced. His smirk painted his face.

When the puck dropped, Dean shoved Gunnar, making him fake his fall. The ref blew his whistle, coming over, "Get up, fool!" Dean yelled at Gunnar.

"You ran at him unprovoked." The ref said Dean must have not heard him because he turned around and accidentally knocked him down.

The ref then shot up, red on the face, "Calm down, son. You're out of the game." Another ref started to escorted Dean back to the locker room.

"Give me a break!" Dean threw off his helmet.

"You're throwin' him out? You can't do that!" Coach yelled at the refs on the ice.

Gunnar then picked himself up, small chuckles escaping his lips, "It's three seconds into the game!" I threw my hand up, gesturing to the time on the scoreboard. When Dean went through the gates, down to the locker room, I started to rub my temples, "Do you have those pills?" I groaned to Coach who stood next to me.

When the ref blew the whistle and dropped the puck, Gunnar bolted for the goal with the puck, moving back and forth and dodging our players. Sanderson came out of nowhere up the sides, Gunnar passed him the puck, making him spin in a circle before passing it back.

Gunnar stopped in front of Goldberg with the puck, "Come an get it!" He snapped, putting the puck into the goal.

The Iceland team shot us from their seats in the benches cheering while team members embraced each other. Gunnar playfully slapped Sanderson on the helmet.

"Come on defense! Can't do this all myself!" Goldberg yelled at everyone on the ice.

"Hey, Goldberg! If that puck was a cheeseburger, you'd stop it!" A familiar voice shouted as he taunted Goldberg. I snapped my head around to find the kid taunting Goldberg.

When my eyes landed on him, my face went red, "Hey you!" I shouted, making the kid look down. "You better shut your mouth or I'll come up there and shut it for ya!" Stabbing my finger at the colored boy, I went back to looking at the ice, with my arms folded.

Dwayne was trying to fool out some of the Iceland players with his puck handling, "Come on Dwayne! Pass it to Fulton!" Coach threw his hands in the air.

"Dwayne, pass it!" Fulton screamed to Dwayne who was still fooling around.

"Pass it to Fulton!" Coach yelled out once again.

"PASS IT OVER HERE!" Fulton slapped his stick on the ice.

Sanderson and number 37, Bajer, teamed up and ran into Dwayne, sending him sailing down on the ice. Bajer stole the puck and started down to our goal where Gunnar was waiting. Bajer passed the puck to Gunnar who attempted to make a goal, but Goldberg saved it. Banksie then snagged the puck, taking it around the goal and going for the blue line. Sanderson bent down, sending Banksie head over heels at a fast speed. Luis was luckily nearby so he could grab the puck.

"Yes, Luis! Go! Go! GO!" I clapped and cheered for the speedster as he then went in between two Iceland players, then slipped, falling on his face, sending him sailing into the wall.

Everyone on the benches winced except Coach who just shook his head in disappointment, "Call something ref!" Luis groaned from on the ice.

Coach Bombay then walked over to Ken, sitting down next to him, "We're in trouble, Ken. What can you do for us?" I then walked over to see what our new plan of action is.

"Let's see," Ken thought for a moment. "Uh, a triple aerial with a Double Hamill Camel, that should split the D, then a pirouetting half-toe-touch for the goal."

"Show it to us, Ken." I smiled, patting his shoulder.

Ken, then got up, pulling down his helmet before skating on to the ice, "Come on, Kenny. Get us back in the game!" Averman clapped his hands

"I'm sure you can do it, Ken!" Connie cheered him on.

Ken started down the center with the puck, Gunnar and Sanderson were skating backward, side by side as Iceland's defense. Ken spun around and tried to jump up, but the two rammed themselves into Ken, making him fall backward, losing the puck to Sanderson. Ken picked himself up and slowly skated towards us, clutching his arm that he landed on.

Coach opened the gate to the benches for Ken, the two sat down next to each other while I just stood in front, "Was that it?" He asked Ken looked at Coach frowning, then shaking his head in disappointment.

The next goal was scored by Sanderson who flew by the benches waving at me with a smirk on his face. The Iceland team in the benches all embraced each other for the victory.

Coach then decided to give a pep talk before the last period, "Where's our concentration?" Coach looked between me and the team. "You guys are runnin' around like a bunch of chickens with your heads cut off!" He snapped, throwing his hands on the air.

"We're doing our best," Jesse mumbled just loud enough for Coach to hear.

"Well, your best isn't good enough anymore. Blow this game and we are one loss away from elimination," Coach let out a deep exhale. "You guys might want to go home early, but I sure as heck don't." He then walked away.

"My, that was inspiring," Averman said to Julie as the two sat in unison while everyone went back to their positions.

I then gave a soft smile to the two, they gave a fake small one back before going back to their slumped tired faces.

Banksie was to face off against Sanderson. When the puck dropped, Sanderson started shoving Banksie, flinging the puck across the ice to number 22, Vries, who then dodged our players at a great speed, shooting the puck into the goal as Goldberg lunged to catch it.

Coach and I groaned in unison from frustration, "Goldberg! Your off!" I waved my hand, pointing to the bench.

Goldberg then slid up his helmet on his head and looked towards the ceiling. Julie then got up and skated towards Goldberg, meeting in the middle, "Hey, good luck, goalie. You're gonna need it." He patted her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks, Goldberg." Julie returned the smile before going over to the goal.

Julie then placed the helmet and stick on top of the goal, the Iceland players were scattered on the ice, talking. Gunnar and Sanderson were near the goal, talking to each other when they saw Julie come up.

The two skated up behind Julie, "Sending in a woman to do a man's job." Gunnar started.

"Don't break a nail." Sanderson taunted Julie as the two chuckled in unison.

When Julie turned around, she fluttered her lashes, "I'm sorry, boys, but can you help me with my pads, please?"

"Ja." The two smirked before looking at each other with wide eyes, then looking back at Julie.

When the two started to bend down, Julie shoved them down, causing them to fall on their sides, "Intent to injure!" The ref blew his whistle. "You're out of the game!" Julie looked up at the ref, then down at the two on the ice.

"See ya around, fellas." She bit the inside of her cheek before picking up her gear off the top of the goal.

"Aw, geez." Rolled his eyes playfully before going back out on to the ice, meeting in the middle again.

"Thanks for the breather." Goldberg joked before going over to the goal, Julie went inside the benches to get her things before going to the locker room.

Waving my hand, "Fulton! Get out there and blast one!" Fulton smiled and loudly chuckled before hopping the wall of the bench.

"Go on in!" Connie cheered.

"Come on! Over here!" Fulton skated towards the blue line, slapping his stick against the ice.

"Fulton, fire it in there!" Dwayne shot the puck to Fulton, who winded up for his killer shot.

To my surprise, Seggi, number 3, caught the puck in his glove, "Oooh! What a save by Seggi!" The announcer shot up from his seat. "He'll have the imprint of a puck in his palm!" Seggi, the goalie, took off his glove and examined his palm, wincing from the pain.

When he flipped over his hand, I caught a glimpse of a giant black and blue oval in the center of his palm which made me gag and almost throw up, "That is scary," I said while covering my mouth and averting my eyes. "Banksie, get in there and get us a point or two." My hand was still over my mouth as I waved off for Banksie to go on to the ice.

Everyone in the benches cheered for Banksie as someone passed him the puck. Banksie started ripping past the wall with the puck with him across the two blue lines. Dodging two Iceland players, he spun around, making them collide, to my surprise, it was Gunnar and Sanderson. One guy even tried to jump at him but failed, causing him to land on his face, sliding on the ice. Banksie faked a shot, making Seggi jump, making an opening for Banksie to put the puck into the goal.

The crowd roared from our first point, and we all jumped up, cheering in the benches.

Banksie raised his arms in the air while coming around the goal, celebrating his heroic victory, "Ya! We got one!" He tapped the goal post and pointed his stick at Seggi with a smile.

Sanderson came up behind him screaming, then slammed his stick against Banksie's wrist, making me scream bloody murder and jump over the wall, "ADAM!" The ref blew his whistle and started pushing Sanderson to the penalty box.

"Come on! Relax! Take it easy! Calm down, son." Sanderson was still chuckling at Banksie.

When I ran past Sanderson, we threw me a wink. I was trying so hard not to flip him off, but instead, I scowled briefly at him, running over to Charlie, Connie, Jesse, and Guy who were all surrounding Banksie, asking him if he was alright, before they broke away cheering.

"Adam, Adam, are you ok?!" I first touched his shoulder, then placed a soft hand on his lower arm.

"Ya, ya, I'm fine." Banksie shook his head, moving his wrist with his hand holding it.

Putting my hands on my shoulder, I bit my bottom lip, "Adam Phillip Banks, don't you dare lie to me-" I said in a stern voice but was cut off.

"Vicki!" He chuckled, placing his hand on top of mine. "I'm alright." He then nodded again but he said it softer and slower, staring into my eyes.

"Ok..." My heart started to flutter as he smiled at me.

When I started to walk back to the benches, Sanderson was just stepping into the penalty box, "Sit down," He opened up the gate. "Right in there." Sanderson then took off his helmet.

"In my country, we call that a love tap." He said lowly to the ref before stepping inside the box.

Scoffing and rolling my eyes, "Love tap in my ass you jerk." I mumbled.

"Sanderson! Sanderson!" Dean yelled from the audience, getting up and going down the stairs to the glass of the penalty box on his normal clothes. "Your mine!" He pointed at him through the glass while the blond grimaced at his little dramatic spectacle of drawing attention to him. "Oh, you think it's funny?" Dean started to climb the glass of the box to pick a fight with the blond when two men from security then grabbed Dean and pulled him down from the glass. "Your mine Sanderson!"

The two security guards dragged Dean up the stairs and away from the penalty box, while he still grimaced at Dean's little spectacle. Then Gunnar skated over to Sanderson, giving him his stick, "Ja." He raised his brows, took the handle, and placed it inside the box next to him. When he looked up, his fire hungry eyes locked with mine and he winked and puckered his lips, throwing me a kiss.

I bit the inside of my cheek, scowling at Sanderson from inside the box. Then I mouthed, "Fuck you, you asshole." Making him smirk at me before I went back inside to the benches.

Right when I stepped in, Coach gripped the sleeve of my dress and pulled me towards him, "The hell was that Victoria, you made us look weak!" He growled.

"It's called being a concerned coach," I said calmly. "You might wanna take your hand off me, I'm a woman and we're on TV, Coach." I whispered, making him let go of me. I huffed and straightened out my dress, pulling the skirt down.

Everyone on Team USA was being shoved around by the Iceland players. We were a few seconds away from the ending of the game, Charlie skated down the middle with the puck. When he went to shoot, he completely missed, falling on his face, sending him sailing into the net, just like he did in District 5 at our first game with the Hawks.

When the buzzer went off, the Iceland team celebrated their victory, Sanderson jumped out of the penalty box to join his team. Number 5, Amssalik, ruffled Sanderson's sweaty blond hair before the team went in for a team chant, "Ísland!"

The team slumped on to the ice to go back to the locker room, leaving Coach and I as he paced back and forth biting his fingers with a balled-up piece of paper in his other.

"Olaf." Stansson looked to Sanderson, the two then gave each other fist bumps.

"Ja, Coach!" He smiled before leaving with the team.

"Good game, Coach!" One of the refs gave thumbs up to Stansson.

"Thanks, ref!" He smiled before turning to see Coach staring at him.

"Damn it!" Coach spat, throwing the piece of paper, looking to Stansson.

Once all the players left the benches, Stansson let Marria out before him. Stansson half chuckled before smugly smirking and clapping his hands together at the two of us, then leaving with his team.

Once Stansson left from Coach's sight of vision, he went down to join the team in the locker room with me trailing behind.

Mr. Tibbles stopped us in the hall to talk to us, "Twelve to one, huh? Twelve to one. Ya think Hendrix is interested in backing a loser?" Mr. Tibbles paused to contain himself. "You're only good to us if you win."

"Don, I'm-I've-" Coach stuttered with his words.

Mr. Tibbles just scoffed and walked away before turning around, walking back to us, "I-I've been good to you, man. I gave ya a real shot," Huffing and rolling my eyes at Tibbles's comments, I shook my head. "A real shot to be somebody...and this is how you repay me?"

I then decided to stand up for our loss, "Tibbles, we just didn't have the magic tonight."

"Well, you better get the damn magic, and you better get it fast," He stabbed. "Or I'm out of a job, and you two on your way back to Palookaville, Minnesota... shoveling snow and sharpening skates."

"Tibbles, we only lost one game! We have others-" I waved my hands in the air.

"I don't wanna hear it!" Mr. Tibbles stopped me. "Have a nice night." He clenched his jaw and walked away.

Coach shook his head scoffing, going on a mad walk to the locker room. I could practically see the fire he was leaving behind with each step.

When we entered the locker room, the door slammed against the wall, causing the whole room to go dead quiet. The team was all gathered around. I stood in the back next to Fulton and Dean.

"Twelve to one," Coach started softly. "Twelve. To. One," He said sharply. "You know what word comes to mind when you think of that?" He waited for an answer, but no one responded. "Pathetic!" He snapped. "You guys were brought here to play hockey!"

"What about you?" Jesse asked, a hint of sass in his voice.

"What about me, Jesse?" Coach cocked his head, snapping at Jesse.

"Coach Stansson knew everything about us! They were ready for us!" Julie added.

"And you spend your time driving around in convertibles talking to those sponsor fools-" Luis raised his brow.

"Or hanging with the Iceland lady," Fulton paused. "We saw you two Saturday night." He confronted Coach, who seemed flustered.

"Eating ice cream with the enemy, huh, Coach?" Dean clenched his jaw.

Everyone looked at each other asking the same questions, I even looked to Adam and Charlie for some clarity, "Hey. Hey, what I do is none of your business. Is that clear?" He snapped at us, which made my blood boil.

"No. No, it is our business!" My face started turning red.

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is our damn business! We are a team! Without trust or faith in our coach we are nothing!" I stomped my foot, stabbing my finger at Coach. "And so far, your doing a hell of a job!"

"And your not!" He threw his hands in the air. "All you do is sit around and look pretty and cheer on the team for their stupid mistakes!"

"You take it back, right now!" I walked up to him with my fists balled.

"No, I'm not gonna! Cause you know it's true! Your not even a hockey coach, you're a pretty little cheerleader," Coach said lowly. "You can't even skate! So don't you dare lecture me about being a hell of a coach!" Coach Bombay's face turned to beat red while my heart sank. No one knew my secret except, Coach and Charlie. Now everyone knew. My face turned to beat red from embarrassment mixed with rage. Everyone in the room started whispering and taking off their pads, "Don't take those pads off! Everyone stay in your gear, we have practice." Coach said lowly as everyone paused.

"Tonight?" Goldberg raised his brow.

"Yes, tonight." Coach then left the locker room without another word, going back out to the ice. Everyone got dressed in silence as I leaned against a wall.

When everyone got back on to the ice, Coach lined everyone up and started making everyone do sprints, Charlie then stopped near Coach and I, making him blow his whistle, "This isn't very much fun, Coach." He said while lifting his helmet.

"Who said it was supposed to be fun?" Everyone took a knee in front of the three of us.

"You did when you coached the Ducks." Charlie tried to remind Coach Bombay of his place with a gentle voice.

"Well, I don't see any Ducks here, Charlie," He said coldly. "All I see is Team U.S.A. one loss away from elimination," He paused, blowing his whistle. "Twenty more sprints! Let's go Line up! Come on, let's go!" Everyone lined up except Charlie, who stood next to me. "Line up, Charlie!" Charlie frowned and got back in line, pushing his helmet down. "Let's go! Keep you here all night if I have to!" Coach blew his whistle as everyone groaned.

Taking a deep exhale and placing my hands on my hips, "I think that's enough, their already worn out."

"Victoria," He stabbed a finger at me. "Don't tell me how to coach my team. If you knew how to skate, I'd make you do sprints in the clothes your wearing."

He finally pulled the last straw, I snapped the coaches whistle off my neck, making the band break in two, "Then take this back!" I chucked the whistle at Coach, who failed to catch it as it hit the ice before I ran off crying, having a mental breakdown.