Join the team’s management? For the first time since he retired, Scott felt a genuine stirring of interest. The sports-bar idea was a bit of fun, but this was something he could get his teeth into. “What about Brendan?”
The current assistant general manager had been with the Cats since Scott was a rookie. He was also the only one left from the previous GM’s era. Brendan was a nice-enough guy but, in Scott’s opinion, resistant to change and lacking in vision.
Callum crossed his arms. “We both agreed it was time for fresh blood. He’ll transition into one of our ambassadors, so he can still be part of the organization and we can tap into his knowledge base whenever we need it. The man has a phenomenal memory of the Cats’ history and players.”
“That’s a good role for him.”
“A win-win. So, what do you think? Are you up for a new challenge?”
Although it seemed like an interesting solution, Scott didn’t want to leap into the job without knowing more. “I’d definitely like to hear what would be involved.”
* * *
“I’M GLAD YOU’LL be part of my team. Welcome aboard.”
Callum’s simple words, when Scott signed his contract two days later, summed up what had really appealed to him. What Scott had missed since he’d retired. Being part of a team. And not just any team, but his beloved Ice Cats.
He’d discussed the job with Andy, his friends and his kids before accepting Callum’s offer. Andy had reiterated his view that Scott would do well in a business role. Angela had teased him about finding another position where he could boss people around, and Wayne had thought it was cool that his dad would be in management. Kasanski had put in a bid for a mega-millions mega-year contract, which Scott had treated with the respect it deserved—he’d ignored it.
As for Scott, he was psyched. For the first time in a year, he was eager to get started. “Glad to be here.”
Callum wasted no time throwing Scott in the deep end. After a quick introduction to the front-office staff—most of whom Scott knew from his time as a player—and a review of his induction schedule, the pair went through the issues that needed to be dealt with before training camp began.
They were about to break for lunch when Callum’s cell rang.
He glanced at the caller ID. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s Jim Scartelli.”
As Callum exchanged pleasantries with the owner, that familiar chill slithered down Scott’s neck. The presentiment worsened when Hardshaw’s face paled.
“I see. Thank you for letting me know. Yes, I’ll be there.” Callum ended the call and stared at his cell for several moments before looking at Scott, his expression a little bleak.
“Is something wrong?” Even though it was obvious, Scott sensed his boss needed prodding to be able to speak.
“The team has been sold. There will be an announcement tomorrow, but the Scartellis wanted to give me a heads-up.” Callum swore. “I knew they were considering a sale—I helped with due diligence for potential buyers—but I had no idea things had moved so quickly. I thought we had more time.”
“How will that affect us?”
“That’s up to our new owner. Mr. Antonelli may want his own people in charge. I’ll have my work cut out convincing him I’m the right man for the job.”
And if Antonelli didn’t want Callum, he wouldn’t want his management team either. “You built the Cats into a Cup-winning team, despite a bargain-basement budget. Our new owner has to respect that.”
“I hope so, but the Scartellis’ lack of investment has tied my hands with marketing and business development for a long time and it shows. I could be the easy sacrifice.” Hardshaw sighed heavily. “Anyway, we’ll find out more soon enough. Antonelli and his posse are flying in this evening and they expect to meet us right away.” He gave Scott an apologetic look. “Looks like you’re going to have a trial by fire.”
What could he say? “It’s an interesting first day, for sure.” Scott shrugged, as if it was no problem to him. But he couldn’t shake that sense of foreboding.
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