The Ideal Team Player Novels & Stories

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve got the rings, the stats, the contract. At this point I’m just playing because I love it.” “So you’re not chasing legacy anymore. Just… fun?” “Is that allowed? Having fun?” “In professional sports? Apparently not.” She’s taking notes. “Your teammates say you’re different off the field. Quieter. More—” she checks her notes “—‘selfless’ was the word your center used.” “Don’t believe everything you hear.” “Should I believe the cocky asshole persona instead?” “That’s not a persona. That’s just me on Sundays.” “So you contain multitudes.”

“I’m here because I want to prove that I’m the best. And the best is on this team.” His answer caught me off guard. He sounded so driven, so sure of himself. “I have no choice but to be the best,” he said. “I might be the heir to the throne, but until I’m sitting on it—and even then—I can’t slack. I have a kingdom to take care of, and in order to do that, I have to be at my best.” Hearing him speak like that almost made him appear in a whole new light. He wasn’t just there because he wanted to show off or intimidate others, he was on the team because he had an actual purpose. A responsibility.

“Oh, the snow bears are nothing without Ledger Rivers…” He scoffed. “They talk like they've seen every practice. Like they know how much effort we put into training. Are you seriously going to listen to them?” He looked from one person to another till he had covered the whole team. “Of course, everyone's attention is on me. I am the center, it's my job to score goals for the team.” His voice dropped though still firm. “But there's only so much I can do. This is a team sport, guys. If everyone doesn't pull their weight, we will lose.” He said pointedly. “You've all got the skills… so play your roles.

“So what happens now?” “I’ve already spoken to the recruiter,” he said. “And?” “And I told him exactly what happened.” He tapped the laptop. “That this was cyberbullying.” “That the rumor is false.” “That you reported it immediately.” I blinked. “…You told him that?” “Yes.” “And?” Coach leaned back again. “And he said something interesting.” My chest tightened. “What?” Coach’s expression softened slightly. “He said a player who handles pressure and nonsense without blowing up usually makes a better teammate.”

"That would be awesome. I've got some ideas I want to run by you, but I'll wait until you're done." I nodded. Rubbed my damp palms over my pants. Turned to Willow. "You think your greatest asset is the delicious confectionaries you make, but you are the heart and soul of this squad. You're the one people turn to when they need to vent or discuss or bitch or soundboard. That is never an easy task and usually weighs on you more than others realize. Your fierce protectiveness and no-fucks-given attitude provides a place for weary hearts to rest. You might not have active mission duties, but you're definitely an integral part of the team and squad you've built around yourself. You love hard, fie

"But you did not get here by accident. Every single one of you earned this locker, this jersey, this shot. Tonight is not about being perfect. It is about leaving everything you have got on that field, so that no matter what the scoreboard says at the end, you can look at each other and know you gave this game everything." Something shifted in the room. Shoulders straightened. A few guys started nodding along, energy building with every word. "You are a team," Coach went on. "Not eleven guys doing eleven separate jobs. A team. Play for each other tonight. Play like the guy next to you needs you to. Because he does." The room erupted, guys shouting, clapping pads, stomping boots against the f

Damn, it’s bad. “I’ve crossed everything off my list and the buses are ready,” Bobby adds with his usual bright smile. “Good job,” I tell him with more assurance than I feel. Bobby is one of the gentlest souls I know. He may look like a teenager but he’s actually pushing thirty. His mental capacity is that of a young teenager. He’s the heart of this team because in his eyes the players can do no wrong. I’d also put him up against any equipment manager in the league. His OCD is the best thing that ever happened to a locker room for me.

"Leon, I appreciate the trust but maybe someone more senior would be better for something this large." Leon immediately shook his head. "No." The certainty in his voice surprised me. "I've already seen how your team works." His eyes met mine briefly. "And I've seen how you work." My face heated instantly. Across the table, Davel looked suspiciously entertained. Traitor. Leon continued before I could argue. "You understand the design process, communicate well, and you're honest when something doesn't work." A small smile appeared on his face. "Those qualities are harder to find than technical skills."

“Today we will be talking about teamwork. We have all worked in a team whether you admit it or not; whether you were conscious of it or not. “And in those teams, we notice that there are certain people we would love to team up with again and there are those who if we were given the option to team up with, we’ll rather pass, right? now those people who we prefer to work with are known as team players or in very lame teams, they are good team members or mates.

The team all cheer in agreement, signifying their unity. "I'm already proud of you all. Every one of you has worked so hard to get here." I praise the team, looking at each player to know that this was a joint effort. "If you don't win tonight, it's not the end of the world. I won't be disappointed as long as I know that you played your best." I've never been one to put pressure on the team; they're in high school and have enough to deal with already. This game is meant to be fun, not a chore.