“Hard to recall for sure.Back when I was a youngster, they didn't exactly monitor concussions the way we do now.If you got your bell rung, you drank some water, caught your breath, and went back out there."
"You good, Dad?"Noel says, moving behind me.
I give him a thumbs up."All good.Not going back out there, but I'm good."
He pats my shoulder."Sure you don't have one more play in you?"He says it with a teasing grin.
"I know you're joking, but I wish I did, kiddo.I've never not finished a game in my life."
"We're up one with fifty-six seconds left.I think we can hold on without you, Pops."
I hang my head, breathing and blinking the dizziness away."I know.It's just the fact of the matter."
He slaps my shoulder pads."I get it, trust me."Play is about to start up again, and Noel straightens, arms crossing over his chest."Alright, boys!Let's wrap it up with a bow for the Cap!"
And they do.Despite being up with seconds remaining, my boys fight as hard as they have the whole game, repeatedly pushing the puck into the cops' zone and putting shots on goal, chasing loose pucks with aggression, and defending our zone with coordinated ferocity.
Right to the end-of-regulation buzzer, they press the cops, holding onto our hard-won lead.
When the buzzer goes, the cops drift to their bench, exhausted, while our team rallies together in a huddle, jumping and slapping pads and helmets.
I pat Morgan's thigh."Lemme up, babe.Gotta go be with the boys."
She reluctantly allows me to my feet and watches, hawklike, as Mack and Carter help me onto the ice—unnecessary assistance which I accept more for Morgan's peace of mind than anything else, although I am still somewhat dizzy.With them at my side, I reach the chaotic huddle of sweating, cheering players.They pull me into the center and surround me, jostling and yelling—which admittedly makes my head pound.I hear Noel's voice, and then a laughing shout of shock as someone dumps the Gatorade bucket of ice water out onto him.
The celebration dies down as Mayor Alaina Frey approaches with the plaque in one hand and the microphone in the other—someone set out a strip of carpet for her to stand on.
When the crowd quiets, Alaina lifts the mic to her mouth."Well, first of all, congratulations to the Fire Department for another win.What a game, right?"The crowd goes momentarily nuts."A nail-biter down the wire.Noah, are you okay?That looked like a pretty nasty fall."
I lean toward her."I'm okay.Bit of a headache, but nothing to worry about.I'm hardheaded."
Someone from her office approaches Alaina with a scrap of paper; she reads it and then pockets it."Well, the official number won't be available until tomorrow, but it looks like this is shaping up to be the most profitable Guns 'n Hoses game ever.Last year, we brought in $14,351.56 in total.And while my people are still tallying concessions and merch, we're already looking at $16,400 just in tickets sales, so I'd say it's safe to assume we'll clear 17,000.Not a bad showing, Tomlin Falls!"The crowd whistles and cheers as she keeps going."Let's hear a round of applause for the Tomlin Falls Police Department!"The cops wave in acknowledgement from their box."Noah, would you like to say a few words?"
I accept the mic, suppressing a wince at the deafening roar.Instead of launching into a speech, however, I pull Noel toward me and shove the mic into his hands."No, but Noel would.Noel?"
After leveling a pissed-off glare at me, Noel scans the crowd, now going so apeshit the rafters tremble, and the glass audibly rattles.When the noise dies down, Noel moves toward center ice."Thanks, Dad.You know how much I love giving speeches."This gets a ripple of laughter."Okay, well, I'm gonna keep this short.Thank you."He pretends to turn away, to more laughter."Kidding.No, for real, Tomlin Falls.Dad and I…we'll never be able to express our gratitude to this community for how you rallied around us during the hardest time of our lives, and how you continue to rally around this cause.We all love a good hockey game, obviously, and god knows the cops are at least good enough to give us a little competition."The cops jeer and boo at the good-natured dig."But the real reason we gather here year after year is to honor my mother, Taylor Austin.We honor her memory by playing the game she loved to watch, and more importantly, we honor her memory by raising money for those who fight cancer.Maybe someday there'll be a cure, but until then, we'll keep hitting the ice and raising money so no one in our community ever has to worry about their medical bills.”He accepts the plaque from Alaina and lifts it overhead one-handed."This is for you, Mom," he looks to the sky, visibly choked up, and then sweeps the plaque in a gesture at the stands."And it's for you, Tomlin Falls.Whether this trophy stays at the fire station—as we all know it will—or if by some miracle it ever ends up at the donut parlor…I mean, precinct…we're all winners, because of your generosity and support.Thanks, everyone, and good night!"
The two teams line up to shake hands, and despite the fight earlier, there are smiles and handshakes all around—Mackenzie and the PD player he fought with pause to shake hands and give each other a back-slapping embrace to show no hard feelings.I'm less copacetic about the fight, personally.Danny Coone, the player I got into it with, is last in line, as am I.He pauses warily, hand outstretched."Noah, I'm sorry for what I said.It was out of line."
“Yeah, it was."I shake his hand anyway."Tempers flare.I get it.But that was a low blow."
He nods, looking chastised."I know, I know.Again, I’m truly sorry, Captain."
"Forgiven, Officer Coone."I slap his glove with mine as we end the handshake."Good game."
He grins."We'll get you next year."
"Wouldn't hold your breath," I shoot back at him.
My head is pounding, and my thoughts are foggy and disoriented.I think I've pushed this as far as I can—it's time to get somewhere dark and quiet.
I feel a hand on my waist and turn to see Morgan at my side."Gotta get changed, and then I need to get home and lie down," I tell her.“I’m starting to feel it."
She boggles at me."Startingto?"
I bend down and kiss her—to a chorus of wolf whistles from both audience and players."Can you drive me home?"
"Try and stop me," she says, pulling back and looking around."I guess the cat's out of the bag about us."
