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away.
    â€œGeez, Bob,” Able said, “ease up, will you? This guy’s big time. This isn’t Davidson from the
Eagle.”
    At this, Duceeder’s face flooded red, a previously nearly imperceptible vein on his forehead instantly throbbing blue. “Damn it, I told you before not to mention that prick’s name in this office and I’ll be damned if —”
    â€œEasy now, Jimmy D., easy. I was just trying to point that it’s not likely that Petey here is biased in the same way as our old friend —”
    â€œDon’t!”
    â€œâ€” our old friend at the
Eagle
is.” Able gave Bayle a friendly, conspiratorial look. “You’ve got to understand rightfrom the get-go, Petey, that the beat writer for the Warriors is what we in the hockey media refer to as a left-winger.”
    â€œLeft-winger, shit,” Munson sputtered. “Cock-sucking belly-aching liberal scum-licking —”
    â€œYou said a mouthful there, Bob,” Duceeder said. “You said a mouthful there.”
    â€œEasy now, you two,” Able said, “we’ve got company here, remember?” Able turned his attention back to Bayle. “Anyway, we’d be happy to chat with you anytime you like. You might even want to come up to the booth sometime and see how a couple of pros do it, right, Bobby?”
    â€œWe’re late.”
    Able looked at his watch. “Geez, you’re right. Well, we’ll see you gentlemen at the opener tonight.”
    â€œYou boys take care,” Duceeder said.
    Munson already out the door, Able called ahead to his partner, “Just a sec, Bob.” Able turned around in the doorway. “Hey, Jimmy D.,” he said.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œGuess what you call one thousand civil servants on the bottom of the Arkansas River?”
    â€œAheh heh heh. That guy just kills me. Really.”

4
    â€œF UCK S AMSON . Samson is irrelevant to me. I don’t hear his bells and whistles, you understand? I’ve got a sick power play and Wichita tonight and you want to know if you can talk to me for a couple of minutes. Forty-three percent of all hockey games are won on the special teams and we can’t score on our backup goalie in practice with a two-man advantage. And you want to know if you can maybe just have a few words with me. You want to talk to me, you talk to me about Wichita’s penalty-killing unit. You happen to know anything about the four-corner rotating box they’re using this year? You got any idea if they’re still committed to dumping and chasing or are they giving that quick little Russianthey picked up over the summer the green light to make a play if he’s got it? You know if Unger is still taking all their deep face-offs? I didn’t think you so. We’re playing a team tonight that’s about ten times better than the one we beat four straight in last year’s playoffs and who would like nothing better than to come into the Bunton Center and kick our ass all over the place on opening night in front of our own fans. And you would like to have a few words. You want bells and whistles, you go talk to Mr. Samson. And while you’re there, you can tell Mr. Samson that Coach Daley is too busy trying to get his hockey team to the league championship to have any time left over for team autograph sessions, Warrior carwashes, or Meet the Fans Day. You tell Mr. Samson that Coach Daley doesn’t hear bells and whistles, you understand? And for Christsake, shut that door behind you.”
    Thus spake Coach Daley.
    Bayle closed the door behind him, mentally crossing sports reporter off his list of potential occupations.

5
    W ANDERING THE bowels of the arena, Bayle wondered who or what next. Except for Jane explaining to him some journalistic do’s and don’t’s and equipping him with a few folders full of articles on the hockey boom in the U.S., he was essentially on his own. And the