Hockey Dad’s Love-Handle Saves the Game
by Eric Miller
We lumbered inside the locker-room and grimaced as hockey bags slid down our shoulders. I hadn’t seen my Blazer teammates for over a month. Inside, the guys slouched like dough-boys, suffering from extended tryptophan hangovers. None admitted to exercising over the holiday break. Crazy Eddie maintained his same pear shape. He’s a tough goalie but outside the arena the man’s hide is thinner than tomato skin (it’s rumored that Pampers commercials make him cry). Blaze shrank since I last saw him, from hunching over golf clubs instead of hockey sticks. Curly braided his beard into dreadlocks. Mick grew his side-burns from ear to ear, which wrapped around his jaw. The holiday break suited my teammates. The guys appeared relaxed except for Stretch, a 6’ 3” beanpole who weighs 135 pounds. With a Body Mass Index of 15, the same as a starving coyote, Stretch is a bag of bones held together by a string of tattoos. I noticed new artwork. … Continue Reading
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