Nobody was in the room. This is fiction, written purely for entertainment, and not a depiction of anything that actually happened or was said by any real person.

The lights are on. The projector is already warmed up before a single word has been spoken. Players file in and find seats, and the room goes quiet faster than rooms usually do, everyone already knowing who's standing at the front.

BABCOCK: Good morning. Sit wherever you want, it won't matter in two weeks because I'm going to move you anyway.

(Nobody laughs. He wasn't joking.)

BABCOCK: I want to start by saying I know what some of you have heard about me. I know what's been written. I'm not here to pretend none of that happened, because some of it did, and I've had a long time to think about why.

(He clicks the remote. The first slide appears. It's a photo of this year's first-round exit, frozen on the final horn.)

BABCOCK: This is where we start. Not because I want to make anyone feel bad about it. Because I want everyone in this room to remember exactly what it felt like, so that in February when things are going fine and it's tempting to coast, somebody remembers this image.

(He looks directly at McDavid.)

BABCOCK: You're the best player in the world. I've coached a lot of good ones. I've never coached anybody better than you. That's not a compliment, by the way. That's a problem, because it means everyone else in this room has been allowed to hide behind you for a decade, and that stops now.

MCDAVID: Understood.

BABCOCK: Good. Next slide.

(Slide two. A spreadsheet. Nobody knows what they're looking at, but it has everyone's name on it and several columns of red.)

BABCOCK: This is puck battles lost in your own end, by player, sorted from worst to best. I'm not going to read the names out loud. You all have eyes. Find yours.

(Extended silence. Someone near the back coughs.)

BABCOCK: Nurse.

NURSE: Yeah.

BABCOCK: You used to be a problem for people. I watched a tape from 2016 this week. You were a problem. Somewhere between then and now, you became polite. I don't need polite. I need the guy from 2016.

NURSE: I have two kids now.

BABCOCK: Good. Bring them to the rink. Just don't bring whatever this is.

(He gestures vaguely at the spreadsheet, then at Nurse, then sits on the edge of the table.)

BABCOCK: I'm not here to make friends with anybody. I had friends. I had a good thing in Toronto for a while, and I'll be honest with you: I made mistakes there that I'm not proud of, and I'm not going to stand up here and pretend otherwise, because if I lie to you about that, you'll never believe me about anything else.

(Long pause. Nobody moves.)

BABCOCK: What I will tell you is this. I have never coached a team with this much talent that has won this little. That math doesn't add up, and the difference isn't skill. You all have skill coming out of your ears. The difference is what happens in the third period of Game 5 when it's 2-2, and somebody has to do something nobody wants to do.

DRAISAITL: Like what?

BABCOCK: Like blocking a shot when you're tired. Like backchecking on a play you'd rather not backcheck on. Like being the guy in the room who says the uncomfortable thing instead of waiting for somebody else to say it.

(He clicks to the final slide. It's blank except for one line of text: "NOBODY IS COMFORTABLE HERE.")

BABCOCK: That's the only promise I'm making today. Nobody in this room is going to be comfortable. Not you, not the captain, not me. If you wanted comfortable, you should've stayed in junior.

(He clicks the projector off.)

BABCOCK: We're back on the ice in twenty minutes. Bring whatever's left of the guy who fought Roman Polak.

(He walks out. Nobody says anything for a long moment. Then somebody, very quietly, starts lacing up their skates.)

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