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they didn’t necessarily agree with everything he said, they certainly didn’t argue very hard.
    “There’s somebody you
really
need to meet,” Coach said to us.
    We walked toward an older gentleman. He looked familiar … then I realized why. He was a former NHL player—a real star in his day. Man, my father would have gone crazy if he’d been there. He gave Coach a smile and the two of them hugged!
    “Boys, I’d like you to meet—”
    “Terry Fisher,” I said, cutting him off. “It’s a real honour, sir,” I said as we shook hands.
    Coach introduced us by name and Mr. Fisher shook Josh’s hand as well. Of course, Josh knew of him too, but probably not the way I did.
    “Mr. Fisher, you’re just about my father’s favourite player in the world,” I said.
    “Call me Terry, son.”
    “Sure … okay. Terry, my father still talks about plays you made.”
    “Tell your father thanks for me,” he said. “My guess is that I’ve been retired too long for either one of you to have ever seen me play.”
    “Yes, sir,” Josh said.
    “Not live, but I’ve seen footage … lots of it,” I said. “That goal you scored in game six of the playoffs against Boston in 1985 was unbelievable.”
    “Lots of people come up and talk to me about that goal, but very few of them are … how old are you?”
    “I’m turning sixteen, sir.”
    “Well, not many of them are turning sixteen. It’s nice to have people remember.” He turned to Coach. “I’m assuming that these two are players.”
    “
Excellent
players. Both of them will likely be in Junior A this coming year.”
    “Then I might be seeing more of you two. I’m part of the ownership group of the Watertown Warriors.”
    “I didn’t know that,” Josh said.
    I didn’t know either, but I didn’t react, other than to glance over at Coach. He nodded ever so slightly. There was a mischievous look in his eyes, like we were sharing a secret. We
were
sharing a secret.
    “It’s my hometown, where I live, and where I run my hockey camps,” Terry said.
    “It must be amazing to own a team,” Josh said.
    “I’m a
part
owner, and it would be much more amazing if we hadn’t finished near the bottom of the standings this year,” Terry said. “But I think things are looking up. There are some changes—nothing I can talk about yet—that will help turn things around. Great to meet you boys, and I hope to see more of you.”
    “Who knows,” Josh said, “maybe we’ll even be drafted by Watertown.”
    “We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed,” Coach said. He winked at me.
    When Terry had left, Coach said, “There’s still one more person I want you to meet.”
    We followed after him, weaving through the crowd.
    “There he is!”
    I looked over. It was Brad Simmons! He had changed out of his uniform and into a suit that was as fancy as Coach’s. I couldn’t believe it. Coach called out and Brad waved and walked right toward us. He and Coach shook hands, and then they hugged as well.
    “So, Brad, I want you to meet Cody and Josh.”
    “Nice to meet you, boys,” he said.
    “That was a good game,” Josh said.
    “Not for us. I hate losing.”
    “Especially to Montreal,” I added. “I hate Montreal.”
    “Yes! Exactly!” he exclaimed. “I hate Montreal too!” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Smart kid.”
    “And a good hockey player,” Coach said. “Both of them. Two of the best coming up for the draft this year.”
    “I remember those days.” He nodded his head slowly.
    “You boys know that I coached Brad, right?” Coach asked.
    “No!” Josh said.
    I shook my head. I didn’t know either.
    “Two years on my team, but also at camps and on tournament teams,” Coach said. “He was a
special
player.”
    Brad looked at his shoes. I would have figured a big star like him would be used to people saying nice things about him. “Thanks, Coach … It was good to see you, but I’m sorry, I have to get going.”
    “Don’t be such a