Page 64 of King of the Crease

“What’s that for?” Hank asks.

“Whatever’s going on, I approve.” Des holds his martini glass up to us. “I want nothing but happiness for you, Hank.”

“Aw, Des. Are you already drunk?”

“I think all the Axe body spray I’m inhaling from these frat boys is making me buzzed.” Des sips his martini and reacts with an ahhh. A guy wearing the bottom half of a reindeer outfit bumps into his elbow, spilling half of the martini on his cashmere sweater.

“Sorry, dude.”

“Run along now.” Des glares at him until he scoots.

20

HANK

Do you remember that song “Everybody Hurts” by REM? People think it’s about loneliness, sadness, and depression.

I think it’s about fortysomethings slogging through an endless bar crawl.

We stumble into bar number…eight, I think? It’s a western-themed bar. The Christmas decor looks off in a place so Southwest-coded. Christmas isn’t a warm weather holiday.

Next to the packed bar is a mechanical bull getting a workout by some very excited ladies.

We are on hour three of this drinking extravaganza and everything hurts. My only teammates still standing are Bill and Griffin. Griffin’s skin is pale, his one eye bleary. He took off his sweater two bars ago, and blotches of sweat stains cover his undershirt. Bill is in good condition because he stopped drinking at the third bar.

Besides the constant drinking, every bar is standing room only. I know as hockey players, we’re supposed to have very strong legs, but when you add alcohol into the mix, our bodies turn to jelly.

Jack and his friends are trucking along as if this is another night. At every stop, Jack turns to his boyfriend to check in on Griffdog, make sure he’s okay. And each time, Griffin powers through.

The only person in the Comebacks having fun is Nick. The pure glee brightening his face tells me this is the first time he’s gotten drunk in a while. His giddiness is the only reason I’m still here.

He stumbles up to me and throws his arms on my shoulders, half in a hug and half for support.

“How you doing, pal?” I clamp my hands on his waist.

His eyes glisten, a bit watery. “Great!!” he yells. “Did you know you call everyone pal?”

“Because everyone is my pal. I see friends, not enemies. It’s a good way to look at the world.”

“You.” Nick points into my chest, also using it for balance. “You should run the UN, Hank. You could bring about world peace.”

“I’m going to get us some waters. Don’t tell Griffin.” I spot a Gatorade water cooler with plastic cups on top.

“Don’t tell Griffin what?” Griffin sidles up to us, looking like he missed out on the fun part of being drunk and went straight to hungover.

“That we’re having the best time!” Nick throws his arms up, nearly smacking Griffin in the nose.

“Jack wants to set up beer pong at one of the tables,” Griffin says. The thought of another drinking game makes my stomach turn. Even Griffin seems unenthused about the idea.

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can say no, Griffdog.”

Griff’s face softens for a moment, and I can see a layer of…well, it almost looks like fear in his eyes. He covers it up fast. “I don’t want to say no. I’m having too much fucking fun with my boyfriend.”

Jack runs up to us and slaps Griffin on the butt. “Beer pong?” He looks to me and Nick.

I take a look at Nick, who is teetering on the border of fun drunk and blackout drunk. “We’re going to pass. We’re switching to water,” I say firmly. If Griffin has a problem, he’ll have to deal.

“Cool, man,” Jack says. “I’m impressed that you gents are still hanging around. You’re alright! And don’t worry Bill. We’ll be ready to play tomorrow.”