My Hockey Alpha

Chapter 0452

Enzo

The ambient noise of the party surrounded me, conversations melding together into a soft hum. But as I held up my glass, ready to make my announcement, my mind started to wander to a time not too far back. I felt a lump forming in my throat, knowing how much this particular revelation would change things. For everyone.

A couple of months ago...

The cafe's familiar bell chimed, announcing another customer's arrival. My focus was solely on the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, and the textbook sprawled open with notes scattered everywhere.

But that focus wavered when a stranger approached, his sharp suit contrasting against the sea of college hoodies.

*Enzo?" The voice, firm and deliberate, pulled me out of my studies.

I glanced up, immediately wary. "Yeah?"

*Tim Malone." He extended his hand. "Hockey recruiter. I caught your game last week. You've got some skills on the ice."

I shook his hand, still processing the introduction. "Thanks. What can I do for you?"

He slid into the chair opposite me, his demeanor all business. "Your style of play, your leadership... It's what my team needs. We've been struggling, and I believe someone like you can turn things around."

I raised an eyebrow. "You want to recruit me?"

"Not as a player," Tim corrected. "As a coach."

I blinked, taken aback. "A coach? I'm still in college."

*Enzo," Tim leaned forward, his gaze intense, "this is a chance for you to use your skills off the ice. My team needs a mentor, someone who's been there, played the game, knows the ins and outs. And after seeing you play and lead, I believe you're that person."

It was a lot to process. My whole life over the past several years had been about pursuing my degree and playing hockey. But coaching? It had never crossed my mind.

"How would this work?" I asked, intrigued.

Tim smiled. "I'm glad you asked," he said. "In August, we would hope to see you come and stay in our town for six months while you train the team. After that, if you do as well as we think you will, I've got plenty of other jobs for you. Lots of other hockey teams around the country who need help from a pro like yourself. It's a significant opportunity."

I hesitated. "I appreciate the offer, but I've still got two semesters left before I finish my degree. I would have to drop out to do this."

Tim nodded understandingly, but there was a gleam in his eye that spoke of determination.

*Just think about it," he said. "It's a huge opportunity, and I can see how much passion you have for the sport. I'll be looking forward to your response."

"Enzo, you've been given a chance not many get. It's a door opening just for you," Nina said later that day.

"But I can't leave my team," I argued. "And what about my degree?"

*Since when do you care about your degree?" Nina asked. She came closer, her hands capturing mine. "And besides, sometimes, life throws us a curveball. And sometimes, that curveball is a blessing in disguise."

We had gone back and forth, weighing the pros and cons. Nina, being the voice of reason she always was, made me see the bigger picture.

"You love the game, right?" she pressed.

I nodded. "Of course."

*And mentoring young players, seeing them grow and succeed under your guidance, wouldn't that make you happy?"

It was undeniable. The thought did excite me. But the decision wasn't just about me. "What about us? I'd be away..."

Nina smiled gently. "We'll figure it out. We always do. But I don't want you to miss out on something that could bring you so much joy."

Weeks slipped by after that initial conversation with Tim, but the proposal to become a coach hovered in my mind like a persistent fog. Every corner I turned in the university halls, every practice on the rink, every late-night study session, Tim's offer loomed large. It was a tantalizing dream, dangled just out of reach, but with a string of uncertainties attached.

One evening, Nina and I took a walk along the university's old bridge, the water below reflecting the soft hues of sunset. The picturesque scene should've eased my mind, but instead, it felt like every step echoed the beat of my internal struggle.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org