Motivating the Mule

It’s twilight and Mike Babcock pulls up outside a self-service car wash. He sits behind tinted glass windows watching in the rearview mirror for his guest. A sporty car pulls into the lot and he exits the car, putting on a pair of sunglasses and holding a sealed yellow envelope.

Babcock: You’re late.

Young Woman: I thought I was being followed. I didn’t want to take any chances.

Babcock: Fine *hands envelope* Inside that envelope are all the details you need. Emilia and Sofie are expecting you. Bring your in-laws. Tell no one you’re going. Especially not your husband.

Young Woman: I don’t understand. What did I do to deserve this?”

Babcock: You? Nothing. There are circumstances beyond both our controls that make this necessary.

Young Woman: He’s going to worry. Can’t I just-

Babcock: No. Those are the conditions. No contact until Friday morning. Or you can stay here and face the consequences. Your choice.

Young Woman: I’ll- I’ll go.

Babcock: Wise choice. *gets in car, starts engine, and rolls down window* Oh, and ma’am?

Young Woman: Yes?

Babcock: Enjoy the spa.

Upon return to his home, the coach takes a seat in a small room lit by a single bare light bulb. A video camera is set up on a tripod. He looks into the lens and begins to speak

Babcock: Good afternoon, Johan. I am sorry it has come to this. However our perilous playoff position and the conspicuous absence of your name from the scoresheet have left me with no other choice. Johan, I have your family. They’ve been moved to a secure area and their safe release depends entirely on your performance…

In the morning this tape is sent by messenger to the Mule. And Babcock knows tonight will be different. However, unbeknownst to Uncle Mike, the Mule is leaving early today and never gets his special package. At dawn he is in the dressing room, staring into the mirror. Counting.

Ozzie arrives carrying an extra large espresso and a duck: Whoa, I didn’t think anyone was here. Um, I wasn’t going to put this in Lebda’s locker or anything. Nope. So… what are you doing?

Mule: Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Ozzie: Nine what?

Mule: Nine stitches on my face. Nine stitches that should have been avenged. Tonight they will be avenged. Not with four minutes of power play time, but with goals. So many goals. I will punish them tonight, Ozzie. Tonight they will know my wrath.

Ozzie: Swell. So just so we’re clear: you know nothing about this duck, okay? Good.

That night the Mule engages in a one man pillaging spree and leaves the Sharks fetal and clamoring for the relative safety of the penalty box. At game’s end, he stands upon a smoldering pile of sushi. Victorious.

Babcock: Well done, Mule. I’m sorry I had to resort to kidnapping your family, but, you know, sometimes you just have to.

Mule: What?

Babcock: What?

Mule: You kidnapped my family?

Babcock: What? No. I have no idea what you’re talking about. At all.

Mule: But you just said-

Babcock: You’re exhausted, man. You’re hearing things. Take a nap or something; I’ll catch up with you on the plane. *lowers voice* But don’t rest too long. Or maybe next time something will happen.

Mule: What?

Babcock: Nothing. Come on. Early day tomorrow. Get going.