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Then Maverick shook the father’s hand.
After that there were two women who noticed Maverick.
They were jumpy and excited, eager to meet a famous athlete.
Not for one second did Maverick look bothered.
I took a bunch of pictures, smiling as I did.
It was nice to see this side of Maverick.
It seemed for as stoic as he was, the fans loved him.
“Is it my turn next?” I asked Maverick.
“You want a picture with me, sweetie?” he asked.
“Be careful with that talk,” I said. “That could get us both in trouble.”
“I don’t mind trouble.”
“I got some pictures of you just now,” I said. “It’s amazing what you do for the fans. I think I-”
“You took pictures of me without me knowing?”
“What?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Maverick asked. “You want to take pictures when I’m on the ice? That’s fine. That’s part of my job. But when I’m outside like this, don’t ever take a picture of me without me knowing. Got that?”
“You were with fans of the team,” I said. “You’re showing up to practice. I have-”
“You don’t have whatever you think you do,” Maverick said. “You ever do that again and I’ll break the actual camera. Got it?”
Maverick turned and walked away, pissed off.
I lifted the camera and took a couple more pictures.
His butt looked really good in a suit.
