Page 62 of Top Shelf

“Hey,Commissioner,”he says, and I laugh.

“Commissioner, huh?” I ask. “That was quick.”

“Yeah, well. I may have done some convincing to show the board that the real bad guy wasn’t you,” he says.

“Oh? What kind of ‘convincing’?” I ask.

“Let’s just say that I relayed some of what Demi heard and saw before you hit him at the game,” he says. “It was a quick shift in sympathy, especially after they learned that he dropped the charges.”

I grit my teeth. But I decide that I’m letting anything that has to do with that prick go.

“Well, that’s awesome, man,” I say.

“Yeah. So we voted last night, and it was a unanimous vote in your favor,” he goes on. “If you’ll still take the job?”

I smile.

“Of course I’ll take it,” I say. “How can I say no to you?”

He laughs.

“You can’t,” he says. “So, anyway, the boys have been asking when you’re coming back to practice. You are free to pick up whenever you want to.”

“That’s awesome, dude. I miss those guys,” I tell him. And it’s true. In just a few short weeks, I became attached to those boys, watching them grow and learn on the ice and off of it. My dad used to say to his players, “Boys, I’m in the business of making gentlemen.” And it’s true. You start with a couple of pre-teen boys who are still figuring themselves out, and if you do something right, you help them build a little bit of confidence, help them learn to respect each other and themselves, and they just might leave you with a little more than they came with.

“They miss you too,” he says, and then there’s a little bit of a pause.

“Was there something else?” I ask, pulling into the school lot.

“Well, uh…I didn’t want to worry you,” he says, “but, uh…when Hayden pulled out of the board, he also pulled his donation.”

I park my truck and squeeze the steering wheel.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask. I scoff and rub my temple. “I mean, I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow I still am.”

“I know, man.”

“Are you worried?”

“Well, it was a pretty significant pledge he made,” Levi says. “We just gotta figure out a way to make the numbers work and raise some more money.”

We sit in silence for a minute, and then I have an idea.

“What about a tournament?” I ask. “Maybe your NHL guys could join us again, but this time, they could play with some of the kids. Each team can pay to play, and we can get sponsors and things like that to make some of the cash back.”

There’s another pause, and then he’s practically screaming.

“Ty, that’s agreatfucking idea!” he shouts. “I love this. I’m gonna get some people on it right now. MaryAnn is great with this stuff. And—”

“Actually,” I cut him off, “I think I have the perfect person for this. I’ll call you later?” I ask.

“Yeah, sure, man. We’ll talk more.”

“Okay, bye.”

I look down at my phone and dial her number.

“Miss me already?” she answers.

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