I hadn't seen the damn key in over 2 hours, it was now post-game, the beers were flowing, and I knew that time was running out. If I didn't retrieve the keys soon, before the room began clearing out, I would be walking home, unable to swap my car keys with the USA Hockey Feds at the front desk.
I was failing miserably going from player to player asking who had the keys. I needed the one figure that had a chance to rise above the din and speak to the group collectively...CUB. I grabbed him be his shoulders to get his attention and to let him know the sense of urgency of the mission. I guess from the accounts of the episode that the blood was flowing pretty freely, rushing so furiously to my head that it blocked my hearing and slowed my already suspect ability to process info efficiently. But I knew one thing, he didn't have the keys and no one he spoke to did.
Because he is a kind man, Cub agreed to negotiate on my behalf with the USA Hockey Feds. I later found out that they told him NFW, emphatically. My last chance was Georgie, he had opened an locked the door, albeit with the rink's master key, but he was my last solid lead. I was in full mania at that point, not understanding much of what he said other than that he did NOT have the original. Crisis mode, final resort, I did the one thing that I knew had no chance of succeeding, but that George and Cub had both recommended. I reached into my jeans.
And it was going down the rabbit hole. I reached in and felt the tiny little cardboard square, the faux-copper micro clasp, and the solitary key attached. My world had returned to normal, presuming there really is any normalcy in my world. The locker room roared, the blood threatening to explode in my head calmly retreated, thanks to a well-earned laugh at my expense.
No comments:
Post a Comment