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Sawyer

“Can I get a Coors Light?” a guy in a red tie shouted above the crowd as he leaned across the bar

“No problem,” I answered I poured his beer by muscle memory and moved on to the next customer The bar was busy, but that was typical of a Saturday afternoon during hockey season The Sharks weren’t playing until later, so we had the Reapers’ game on, which was in the third period in Tampa

I listened to what colance up much

Had to ad harder than not reaching your dreaht seconds

“Hey, McCoy, weren’t you the eo?” Charlie, one of our regulars, asked like he could readmind

“Sure was,” I answered while I poured another beer

“He was a goalie down at U-Dub, reular chimed in

“That’s right,” Charlie replied, leaning forward “Everyone around here figured you’d go pro”

So had I That’s what I wanted to say

“Oh, yeah?” I answered instead because that was the easiest thing to say

I had been a daoalie I just hadn’t otten aard—my roooalie for the Sharks, he’d gotten me a tryout

I just hadn’t been fast enough to make the roster

“Vestergaard scores!” the announcer called out, and this tiaze jumped to the screen

A suy It just sucked that he’d moved her all the way to South Carolina But that was how I’d ended up in a one-day contract as the eoalie for the Carolina Reapers when their backup had gone down