Page 3 of Puck You Very Much
Genuine class, huh?
I knew he’d purposely said it loud enough for us to hear. After all, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck (that happened a long time ago, thank you very much). They’d spotted us at the end of the bar, like we had them (we were there first, by the way), and he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. Please don’t thinkwe’re a bunch of hotheads with zero self-control. If we were, that comment alone would’ve sparked the brawl. It doesn’t take much, as you’ll soon see.
On the other hand, we couldn’t let the whole thing rest without a response. Ryan Detenbeck flung a sunflower seed at them. So the hell what? That doesn’t sound so bad to me, not compared to Echlin’s comment. Yeah, we stood there and giggled like a bunch of junior high students, but I suffered no shame over that either. Again, big, fat, hairy deal.
Problem was, the first sunflower seed got the ball rolling. No, no, wait. That’s hardly fair. Jax Echlin’s dumbass and totally unnecessary comment started the ball rolling. We’d responded in a gentle, if slightly sophomoric, manner. If you ask me, that’s a perfectly peaceful response to an unprovoked attack.
The second sunflower seed might’ve been a little excessive. I’ll cop to that much. We’d already gotten them back for the initial comment, tit for tat, and all that. Levi Dunn threw that one because I guess he figured Detenbeck shouldn’t have all the fun. Maybe he wanted to drive them crazy. They were our rivals, after all. I had no intention of doing anything. Not because I’m Mister Maturity or anything, you understand, but because I’m just not a confrontational guy.
You know the truth about the chicken wing bone. It really happened, ridiculous as it sounds. An almost meatless drumstick really did sail down the bar and land before the Remington Riptides . . . and I’m the one who threw it.
Yeah, I know I just called myself a non-confrontational guy, and I stand by that. Here’s what happened: I tried lightening the mood and lowering the temperature by doing something my teammates loved: my Jack Nicholson impression fromThe Shining.
You know the scene in which Nicholson flips out on Shelly Duvall for interrupting his writing? I’ve re-enacted that inrestaurants before. Sure, it’s silly, but we’re young, okay? My teammates howled over it each and every time. Problem is, Nicholson was seriously animated in that scene. He even smacks his own forehead (Levi Dunn’s personal favorite, so I wouldn’t deprive him of the full course). The real trouble was I tried doing that with a chicken wing bone in my hand.
Big mistake. The bone flew out of my hand, actually making a giant arc, as it soared down the bar. I would’ve gladly explained the boner I’d just pulled (if you’ll pardon the pun), and smooth everything over with the rival team, butnooooo. Jax Echlin had to be the hothead. He had to escalate everything for no good reason. And he had to stand up from his stool and puff his chest out. Jax Echlin started this by calling us sacks of shit and now he pretended like we’d drawn first blood.
Didn’t that just figure?
I couldn’t blame Levi Dunn for marching over and hulking up. Sure, you could say his behavior did just as much to escalate the situation, but Jax had dangled a carrot before him. He’s not the kind of guy to simply pretend nothing happened, especially with the temperature cranked up so high.
The rest of that part is true. Yeah, Levi flicked a sunflower seed at Jax. Right in his face, in fact. Again, Jax would’ve had nothing to worry about had he not opened his big fat mouth. Simple enough, right?
Not if you’re part of that crew of braindead fucks known as the Remington Riptides, apparently.
Then Jax shoved him. That’s really important. Let me underscore the fact thatJax Echlin shoved Levi Dunnfirst, not the other way around. He turned the situation physical. Until then, we’d all just been dicking around. Juvenile sure, but I’ve already conceded that. Our tensions had simmered, but we wouldn’t have brought them to a boil. Levi Dunn wouldn’t have gotten up from the bar if Jax hadn’t puffed his chest out likean impotent asshole, challenging him. He sure as hell wouldn’t have knocked Jax flat on his ass if the Riptides captain hadn’t shoved him.
It all seems like common sense to me.
Now, where was I?
Jax Echlin had been shoved to the floor. He soon took a fist that gave him the ol’ T.K.O. I’m telling you; he spent a ridiculous amount of time on his back in this story. (I can hear Levi Dunn’s voice in my head saying only Jax Echlin’s mom has spent more time on her back).
Chaos broke out. Mayhem, really. I don’t think those words sound too dramatic a description. And I nearly panicked. Since I’m here to give you the truth, I won’t act like I played the tough guy in any of this. I really wanted Levi, Ryan Detenbeck, and our other teammates to stop, for God’s sake, but what was I supposed to do? Remember what I said about the ball rolling? Well, this sucker was about to get away from me and there was nothing I could do about it.
Well, almost nothing.
I couldn’t let the Lions get into a brawl with the Riptides and just stand there with my thumb up my ass. I had to do something, and not just because the guys would think me a wuss who didn’t have their backs if I didn’t. I would know for myself that I’d turned into a marshmallow who couldn’t handle the heat of a real-life brawl. And I would have to live with that truth. Fun, huh?
Here’s another admission for you: I’ve never been in a fight in my entire life. Like, not even on the ice. That might sound crazy, but it’s true. I play hockey for the love of the game, not the opportunity to bash someone’s teeth in. Now that I’d landed in this situation, I didn’t know what to do, but like I’ve told you I couldn’t just stand there.
So, I did all I could: I basically dove in. Fists were flying everywhere, and I didn’t know where to start, but I understood the need to protect myself so I could remain capable of having the Lions’ backs. I also realized I couldn’t back down from any of the Riptides, no matter what.
Moments later, I saw a player from Remington swing at Levi Dunn. In addition to self-defense, I needed to mount an offense when appropriate. The player spun around, facing me, and I found that it was Zane Martin. He was an inch or two taller than me, broad-shouldered, muscular, and impeccably dressed for a night at the bar. Picture Joe Burrow as a hockey player and you’ll come pretty close to seeing Zane.
Anyway, he paused, looking like a deer in headlights. Sorry for the cliché, but that’s honest-to-God how he looked in that moment. I didn’t know what the hell to do. He was going to slug me, wasn’t he? With all the insanity around me, that seemed like a pretty safe bet.
So, I wound up and drove my fist right into his face. Like, I really sent him to the moon. He crashed onto the floor instantly, legs rising high enough for the soles of his feet to point toward the ceiling before they collapsed. I stared at my hand in disbelief over what I’d just done. Then my eyes shifted to Zane, who laid there, arms and legs spread, like I’d caught him in the middle of making a snow angel.
Levi, Detenbeck and the rest cleaned house of the remaining Riptides. I glanced left and right, making damn sure no one flogged my melon with a beer bottle.
Our business finished, we left. We kicked some serious ass, I must say. I can’t take all the credit, but my fist had done some of the work.
Now that I’ve set the record straight on how this little fight went down, I totally expect Zane to dispute it. After all, the Remington Riptides could be extremely difficult like that.
3
ZANE
