The boys all brighten.
“No way. We’re huge fans!” the one wearing jeans and a blue hooded sweatshirt exclaims.
“I can’t believe you’re just here!” the one wearing the plain white T-shirt and black athletic shorts tells Alex.
“I told you it was him!” the third says. He looks almost exactly like the one in the blue hoodie and I assume they’re brothers.
“Just here having dinner and enjoying the night,” Alex says.
“We are here on vacation with our parents,” the youngest one says. “I can’t believe we just ran into a huge hockey star out here walking around.”
“You’re hockey fans?” Alex asks, his stance relaxing and his smile growing warmer.
“Yeah, of course. We’ve watched you play a ton,” blue hoodie tells him.
“I appreciate that,” Alex says. “Are you having fun here in New Orleans?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. Seeing people just out playing music on the streets is pretty awesome,” the one in the T-shirt says,gesturing toward the jazz band that is getting ready to start a new song.
“What are your names?” Alex asks.
“I’m Matt,” the one in the hoodie says.
Alex extends his hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Matt.”
The boy looks amazed as he takes Alex’s hand.
“I’m Austin,” the one in the white T-shirt says, extending his hand and taking Alex’s.
“Hi, Austin,” Alex says, his smile genuine.
“My name is Alex,” the youngest one says, sticking his hand out with a big grin. “Cool name, right?”
Alex chuckles and takes his hand too. “The best. Any of you boysplayhockey?”
They all do and tell Alex they’re from Wisconsin and were so bummed when Alex got hurt, and how cool it is to meet him.
“I appreciate that,” Alex says. “It’s been tough. So do you guys have anything you want me to sign?”
Their jaws all drop, and they look at one another. “I don’t really have anything,” Matt says. “We didn’t expect to run into any celebrities.”
I rummage in my bag and pull out a four-by-six bright green index card, a cardboard coaster from Perks and Rec—it’s only got a tiny coffee stain on it—and a package of playing cards. I pull a Joker out—we almost never need jokers. I hand the three items to Alex along with a black Sharpie. “Here you go.”
He looks at the odd collection of items, then at my bag, and gives me a grin. “Thanks.” He holds them up to the boys. “How’s this? Something pretty unique. Nobody else will have my signature on any of these things.”
The boys excitedly agree, and Alex signs his name along with the date andJackson Square, New Orleansat the bottom. Thatall barely fits on the Joker playing card, but I suspect that the younger Alex will treasure that playing card for years.
“I can’t wait to watch you play again,” Austin tells Alex as he hands me the pen back. “When do you think that will be?”
“Uh, thanks.” Alex hesitates, then glances at me. “As a matter of fact, I am going to be playing for a small team down here in Louisiana this season.”
The boys’ eyes go wide. “No kidding?” Matt asks.
“No kidding. They’re doing something new in a little town near here. It’s really unique and pretty fun. It’s not professional hockey. It’s…well, you’ll have to see.”
“Where can we watch it?” Matt asks.
“You would really want to?”
