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| does she or doesn’t she? |
Playoff pools make mercenaries of us all. Mostly. Even
on pain of death, I will not pick from the Bruins, Islanders, Rangers,
Devils or Red Wings. If I don’t like ’em in the regular season, I won’t pick
from ’em in the post. But I know guys who openly loathe Philadelphia, yet won’t
hesitate to name any number of Flyer forwards to their fantasy team.
In the 2010/11 playoff season, I called one of my
fellow poolies on this behaviour. Mercenaries don’t try to deny that they’re
mercenaries, so he was hardly penitent about it. In fact, for a few months, he
was as hardcore a Flyer fan as I am. The deeper they got into the playoffs (it
was the year they squared off against Chicago in the final … and %^$#*ing lost),
the edgier our banter became. Finally, I openly accused him of being a fake and
challenged him to a stupid dare. “If the Flyers win the Cup,” I said, “you have
to get a tattoo of their logo.”
He chuckled and said, “Noooo way.”
“Come on,” I said. “I’ll get mine retouched at the
same time.”
Idle conversation around the cubicle promptly died. A
few heads popped up to see where this was going. My poolie chum gave me a long,
speculative look, then rocked back on his heels.
“You don’t have a tattoo,” he
said, smugly.
I smirked. “Just because you can’t see it is doesn’t
mean I don’t have one.”
He gave me a quick once-over while trying to appear
like he wasn’t and I swear I glimpsed a bead of sweat break on his forehead.
“Nah,” he said, shaking it off. “No way.” He started to stroll back to his
office. I called after him:
“The day after, buddy: you, me, tattoo shop!”
The office manager gaped at me in astonishment.
“Ruthie, do you really … ?”
Since the Hawks won the Stanley Cup that year, no one
knows for sure.
