PUCKD Ch 2

“Director, there are four people here with hands, but you’re pouring your own drink?!”

“Ah, I’m used to drinking alone.”

“That won’t do tonight!”

As Coach Yoo confiscated the bottle and poured a drink for him, Director Park Namwoong interjected in his slow manner of speaking.

“A handsome man like the director, if you were drinking alone in a bar, the women around you wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Goes without saying. Just for a day, I’d love to live with a face like the director’s. Don’t you think so, Yongsoo?”

“Yeah. Really. You look much more alpha than most of the alphas on our team.”

The three of them were in perfect sync. It seems this kind of atmosphere has been going on even when I wasn’t around.

Shin Hojae inwardly thought it was excessive flattery, but the person listening didn’t seem to mind, only smiling lightly.

Shin Hojae, who didn’t have an ounce of social skills, chose to simply not react. In times like these, just staying still is helping the director.

As he blinked blankly, his eyes suddenly met with someone else’s. The man was looking at Hojae with a smile on his face. Hojae’s mouth felt a little dry.

“Saying that in front of Shin Hojae makes it sound like you’re teasing. Isn’t Shin Hojae the alpha of alphas?”

“Oh, teasing? I’m one hundred percent serious.”

“The director bragged a lot, so I was curious, but seeing him up close, it’s like he could be a celebrity, not an athlete.”

“The director is right. Our Hojae has been attracting female fans since his youth representative days.”

“Director Park has known Shin Hojae since his youth, then.”

“Yes, yes. Our families have been close since then. My sons couldn’t manifest, so unfortunately they had to quit hockey, but I’m reassured to have Hojae playing in their place.”

As he said this, Director Park Namwoong’s eyes, looking at Hojae, were as affectionate as if he were his real family. Hojae’s lips naturally softened a little just then.

“But truly, the number of female fans has increased tremendously since Hojae joined. It’s his fourth year as captain, but this is the first time I’ve seen so many women in the stands.”

“Wow, it was really amazing last year. Those huge cameras you only see on TV were all over the audience… Director, would you like to see a video clip from that time?”

“A video?”

“Yes! It’s called a short. These days, kids watch these short videos.”

Saying so, Coach Yoo Goohan took out his phone and held it in front of Kwon Junghyun’s face.

Shin Hojae, who had been listening from a distance as if the conversation wasn’t about him, flinched slightly. He didn’t want to see it, but because of the angle, the video playing on the screen was clearly visible.

It was himself, panting with a sweat-drenched face right after the game. Then, a scene of him lifting his uniform to wipe the sweat from his face played in slow motion, and the distinct abs and iliac bones hidden under his clothes were close-up.

Director Kwon Junghyun was just watching the video with his usual smiling face, but for some reason, he seemed particularly focused.

Sweat gathered in Shin Hojae’s palms as he watched, and his cheeks flushed crimson. He felt like bolting from his seat right away.

“But Director, our Hojae is even better at hockey than he looks.”

Fortunately, the director, who had been watching the situation with satisfaction, like a father listening to his son being praised, finally steered the conversation back on track.

“When he was young, Hojae was tall, so I made him play defense, but it turns out he’s good at offense too. His skills improved so much in Canada. Honestly, thanks to Hojae, we made it to the playoffs last year. It’s a shame we finished in 4th place, though…”

Shin Hojae, wiping his face with the back of his hand, the embarrassment from the video still lingering, glanced at his face.

‘Five times the work by himself?’

Unlike Hojae, Director Park seemed to be greatly fixated on the part of his statement that said, 

‘I watched all the games from that time.’

“It would be great if someone like Director Kwon took over our team.”

Director Park, easily moved, had his eyes glistening with moisture, as expected. If there hadn’t been a table separating them, he would have probably hugged Director Kwon tightly or grabbed his hand.

Hojae quietly observed the man’s face as he simply offered an awkward smile in response to Director Park’s statement.

…Is it my imagination?

For a moment, it sounded sarcastic.

Maybe he’s just being too sensitive. He’d had to endure criticism all last season like, ‘show-off play,’ ‘ice hockey turned into a one-man show,’ and ‘Shin Hojae and four supporting characters.’

But that was Shin Hojae’s best at the time. The East Asian league, especially the lower-ranked Blue Wolves, couldn’t possibly satisfy Shin Hojae, who had played in Canada.

Since there was no magic bullet to raise the skills of his fellow players in a short period, he had no choice but to hold the puck for a long time to win.

Thanks to this, Shin Hojae became last season’s top scorer by an overwhelming margin compared to second place. It was the first time a top scorer had emerged from the Blue Wolves since the team’s inception.

Including this, reaching the playoffs in six years and finishing 4th in the season would not have happened if Shin Hojae hadn’t been recruited last year.

However, the atmosphere within the team wasn’t great. The saying that the results wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Shin Hojae meant, conversely, that the records were achieved by Shin Hojae alone.

“This is a bit burdensome. Originally, I requested a light meeting. Shin Hojae and I, we just mentioned our curiosity, and now you’ve made us come all this way.”

Coach Yoo intercepted the man’s words, ignoring Director Park who was dabbing his eyes with a tissue.

“Did you notice? We did it to make you feel burdened. If this restaurant was a little cheaper, we could have brought our whole team.”

“Hojae, pour him a drink.”

Choi Yongsoo quietly handed him the bottle. It was the perfect timing for a drink.

“Oh man, wearing a tie in May is way too hot.”

They had moved to the smoking room outside the restaurant at Director Park’s request to excuse themselves for a moment.

Choi Yongsoo hooked his index finger around his neatly tied tie and loosened it. In his other hand, he held a cigarette.

Shin Hojae sat silently on a chair in the smoking room, watching Choi Yongsoo smoke.

“Sorry Hojae. You don’t even smoke. Never smoke stuff like this because you have to keep skating.”

Choi Yongsoo said, waving his hand repeatedly. It wouldn’t dissipate the acrid smoke trapped in the small space, but he must have been feeling apologetic. Shin Hojae himself didn’t really mind. If he really hated the smoke, he would have been somewhere else.

“Hey, wanna see this? Smoke keeps leaking out here because my front tooth is missing.”

Yongsoo grinned suddenly, showing his missing tooth. Shin Hojae chuckled as he saw white smoke puffing out from the gap.

“Funny, right? My little girl loves it. I’m thinking of not getting an implant even after I retire.”

“That’s good. It looks like a hockey player, really cool.”

“Right? Jealous?”

Hojae smiled wryly at his grinning captain.

Choi Yongsoo lost his tooth when he was hit by an opponent’s stick during the playoff finals last season. That day, Choi Yongsoo smiled brightly with blood all over his mouth.

A missing front tooth was like a symbol of a hockey player, and in fact, North American players are also proud when they lose a tooth in an important game. That’s why the captain smiled so brightly, saying he finally felt like a real hockey player.

There was only one reason why the captain, who took such pride in his career, was smoking again, saying, ‘Don’t you smoke,’ as if he was considering retirement.

Team disbandment.

He’d heard the news two months ago, at the celebratory dinner after the Blue Wolves secured their spot in the playoffs. The occasion, which should have been joyous, turned eerily silent after a single word from Director Park Namwoong.

The news was that due to the continued financial difficulties of Daeyang Shipbuilding, the parent company, they would be discontinuing their sports ventures after this season.

Director Park bowed his head in front of the players and repeatedly apologized, shedding tears. Many players followed suit, sobbing along with him.

Korea is barren ground for ice hockey. Unlike other sports where players can simply transfer to another team if one disappears, the disbandment of a hockey team means the retirement of its players.

Everyone had vaguely considered their career paths after retirement, but no one had expected their careers to end so abruptly.

There were twenty-two of them, athletes who had held hockey sticks for 20, or as many as 30 years.

At a minimum, that was 440 years of combined time, and with each player discarding three pairs of skates annually, it was a legacy built on 1,320 pairs of skates.

All that time, effort, life, and livelihood were on the verge of vanishing like bubbles.

“What’s happening with the acquisition talks?”

Choi Yongsoo, just lighting his second cigarette, looked up at Hojae’s question.

“I hear it’s not going well. Even if the association stepped in and forced it, it’d be a maybe…but they’re just watching from the sidelines….”

“…….”

“But I think it’s tough in this economy for any company to invest billions to acquire a sports team. Frankly, it would be different if we were a soccer or baseball team. Haha.”

Self-deprecating humor came out of the captain’s mouth as naturally as breathing. Shin Hojae chuckled.

When he first came back from Canada, he used to frown every time he heard that kind of joke, but in just one year, Shin Hojae had completely internalized it. It was bitter, but this was the reality of Korean ice hockey.

‘Shin Hojae, you can just go back to Canada. It’s different for us, who have to think about retirement right away if the team disappears.’

Did someone say that at the dinner? They were speaking without knowing Shin Hojae’s circumstances.

“The director and coach are working so hard, running around like this, but though it’s not something I should say as captain… I honestly think it’s very difficult.”

Daeyang Shipbuilding had offered to cover six months’ worth of salaries for the players, coaching staff, and office workers.

In other words, it was like the company offering severance pay with a dismissal notice. It was also intended to help the team become self-sufficient for six months.

To keep the team going after six months, the Blue Wolves would have to find a new company to take over, raise tens of billions of won to become a citizen-funded team, or at least secure a naming sponsor to put their name in front of the team name under a fixed-term contract.

None of this was easy. The situation had become even more difficult because a company that had been pursuing an acquisition recently backed out.

They desperately needed someone’s help.