When I show up to practice with a black eye, coach looks at me like he wants to punch me in the other one. I tell him I was horsing around with my brothers, but I can tell he's not buying it.

"You don't think my people tell me about the gossip, Stag? I fucking read the Internet. What did we talk about? No fights. No chasing tail."

"No, sir." I shake my head, but he puts a meaty hand on my chest.

"Lace up and get out on the ice. Make me happy I signed ...