34 Cooper Baltic

Cooper Baltic is the other half of the Baltic story—where Eli clears space, Cooper claims it. He grew up shadowing older teams, jumping into spring AAA tournaments whenever a roster had a hole, and turned heads at a St. Louis showcase with a weekend of net-drives and hard-area goals. A summer camp with an NAHL club came calling, but he chose the hometown path instead, piling up miles to Columbus, Chicago, and Erie with a tight travel squad that won more Sunday titles than anyone could count.

His game is built for playoff weather. Cooper forechecks like it’s personal—first stick in, first body on the glass, puck coming off the wall to the right sweater. He loves the cutback at the dots, the shoulder-through-contact at the crease, the low wrister that arrives heavy and late through traffic. Coaches use him to start periods and close games; linemates know that if they get to the back post, a rebound is on the way.

There’s a blue-collar precision to him. He sharpens a touch deeper for bite on the turns, keeps his blade wrapped heel-to-toe in white to hide the puck off the release, and wears a nicked visor he swears “sees the ice better.” With Eli policing the edges and Cooper hunting the middle, the Baltic name means two things at the hometown rink: room to play, and someone tough enough to fill it.