Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“It’s against the rules to fight in hockey,” I say into the mic. “But breaking the rules is so much fun.”
The crowd laughs lightly.
“Here are the nominees for the best hockey fight of the—”
“Hey, McKinstry!” a deep booming voice roars through the theater. “I got a score to settle!”
I grit my teeth as Clint Maddock—late sixties, but still a beast—comes charging up the stairs onto the stage. I place the trophy on the podium while glaring at him.
The crowd rumbles in excitement as I roll up the sleeves of my jacket and stomp over to meet him.
We’re glaring at each other, the tension thick in the air, as we face off just like old times.
The tension boils over, but instead of punching each other’s faces in, we hunker down and play rock, paper, scissors.
The crowd erupts in laughter.
He wins one game, I win two.
The crowd eats it up as I put my arm around him and we head over to the podium together.
We’ve been good friends for about five years now. We were both at a charity fundraiser to sign gear for the fans when the lady organizing the event sat us together. She knew nothing about hockey and our great rivalry, and when I tried to tell her, she didn’t particularly care.
“You’re grown men now,” she said sternly before rushing away. “Figure it out.”
By the end of the eight hours, we were friends.
It turns out, we’re more similar than we thought. We’re two peas in a pod with the same protective, tough, warrior mentality.
The crowd is still laughing as we stand in front of the mic. They weren’t expecting that.
“The nominees for the best hockey fight are,” Clint says with a smile.
“Sanchez and Ackerman,” I say.
He leans in for the next one. “Warner and Baker.”
We alternate for the rest of them and then announce the winner.
I keep my eyes on my perfect little wife as Warner and Baker come up to accept the trophy.
They each say a few words, but I’m barely listening. I’m focused on my Jane. I’m always focused on her.
She is so stunning in her sparkly silver dress, smiling widely at me.
I adore her.
We have five children, two grandchildren, and one more on the way. It’s been a wonderful thirty-eight years together.
My life has been full of love, full of passion, and full of gratitude over these past three and a half decades. It’s all because of her.
She’s my girl.
My soul mate.
My everything.
The End!