sexy fireman

NYFD/NYPD game at the Garden

Cara stood waiting outside Madison Square Garden, where she was supposed to meet Mark after he dropped his equipment off in the locker room. The crowd swirling around her was a sea of navy emblazoned with either NYFD or NYPD logos. The feeling was ebullient, and she felt herself getting caught up in the excitement.

 Cara scanned the throng and saw Mark wading through the crowd in her direction. He wore running shorts and a tight navy blue Underarmor shirt with the NYFD logo screaming from his broad chest. His eyes were bright with excitement and he beamed when he saw her.

 “Hey,” said and embraced her in a huge hug. 

 “Hey,” she looked up at him, grinning broadly.

 “You’re in for a treat tonight,” Mark smiled as he guided Cara towards the stair to the upper decks.  “Should be a great game!”

 “I’m so excited!” she said “How are you feeling?”

 “Totally ready, I can’t wait!” he smiled. Cara could see how much this meant to Mark and was glad she had been included. 

 “So who am I sitting with? Or are you leaving me to fend for myself?” Car asked as they went up the flight of stairs and found the section in which she was sitting.

 “You’re in the NYFD section. A good buddy, Rafe, and his girlfriend are sitting next to you. Want me to walk you to your seat? I’ve got to get back to warm up soon,” Mark said craning his neck to see if Rafe had already gotten to the seats.

 “Don’t worry about me. I think I’m going to walk around a bit, maybe I’ll slum it and grab a beer,” Cara was excited to be in the bustling environment.

 Mark put both arms around her waist. “Okay, Car, wish me luck,” and looked directly into her bright blue eyes.

 “Just don’t get any teeth knocked out. I can’t date someone that looks like they’re from the Ozarks,” she kissed him lightly, then kissed him more deeply. “Have fun.” 

 “Yo, get a room, love birds!” Rafe bellowed as he walked up behind Mark. “You’d think you were going off to war, for fuck’s sake!”

 “That’s real nice, Rafe. You make a great first impression,” Mark laughed. “Cara, this is Christopher Rafael, better known as Rafe.”

 “Nice to meet you, Rafe. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Cara said, extending her hand, smiling.

 “And you as well,” Rafe said and exaggeratedly kissed the back of Cara’s hand. “Elyse is on the way, just getting some beers. You want one, Cara? I can grab her while she’s still in line.”

 “I’ll go with you. Mark has to get going,” she said. Mark smiled at her broadly. She was such a good sport. 

 “She’s in good hands, Chambers. Now go kick some NYPD ass!” Rafe said and took Cara’s arm, leading her away to the concession stand.

 Mark turned back towards the stair. “Hey Cara!” he looked back and shouted. “My first goal’s for you!” Cara smiled and gave him a thumb’s up.

 Mark could barely contain his excitement.   A former college player, he loved nothing more than still being able to play hockey. There was something liberating in being on the ice, playing a game that he had played since he was five years old. And even though his college career had ended abruptly, playing for the NYFD was just as good as playing in the NHL as far as Mark was concerned.

 After warm ups the players from both teams skated to their respective benches and the starting lineup was announced, Mark’s name was announced and the crowd responded with a roar; he was the top scorer for the fire department.  He skated to the line with the other starters and gave the crowd a wave. 

 “Ladies and gentlemen, we will now observe a moment of silence in honor of our fallen heroes,” said the announcer over the loudspeakers.  Every player respectfully took off their helmet and turned to face the American flag.

 Two high school aged girls stepped onto a piece of carpet that had been placed on the ice near the benches. They were the daughters of fallen officers from the police and fire departments. They sang the national anthem in clear, powerful voices, one a soprano, one an alto, sending chills through the crowd.  The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, many fans with tears in their eyes,

 The players banged their sticks on the ice and Mark could feel the adrenaline surge through his body. The starters lined up for the puck drop. Mark, as center, squared up across from the center from the NYPD, who leered at him from beneath his helmet, "You're going down, asshole," he snarled,

 Mark smiled back contemptuously, and when the puck dropped agilely won the face off and the game began.

 Cara’s heart beat wildly in her chest. The excitement in the building was electric, but it was the way she felt about Mark that was most unnerving.  She knew that she was falling in love against all her best intentions.  A fire fighter was hardly the type she had imagined she’d be with - had she worked so hard climb the social ladder  just to end with someone from the background she was trying to leave behind?

 But who was she to judge anyway, she mused.  Mark was intelligent and well spoken and, if she was being completely honest with herself, she was more comfortable with him than the sharks she’d been trying to date. Cara tried to shake these thoughts from her head and concentrate on the game. 

 The game went as expected with the men hitting each other hard, chirping each other and getting the crowd riled up in support of their respective teams.  For the most part it was good natured, but pitting New York's Bravest against New York's Finest in a competitive arena like a hockey rink doesn't stay friendly for long. As the first period was coming to an end, both teams remained scoreless.

 During the 2nd period, Mark could feel his own desire to score overriding his good sense. He became less disciplined, going after big hits that were unnecessary and hogging the puck in hopes of scoring. As he sat on the bench between shifts he tried to calm himself, recognizing the danger signs he had ignored as a college player He tried to calm himself with deep breathing and felt back in control as he hopped over the boards to take his next turn on the ice.

 Mark lined up against the same NYPD player that had been trash talking him since the start of the game.  Pete O’Malley was considered an instigator for the NYPD.  His purpose was to get under the skin of the opposing players. He never shut up, hurling insults and giving small cheap shots when the referees weren’t looking. Unfortunately he seemed to always be on the ice with Mark, jawing away at him incessantly.

 O’Malley sidled up to Mark and smiled, “So Chambers, how’s your old man’s stay going in Ossining?” Mark stared at referee and pretended not to hear, but the words stung like a wasp.

 Once the referee dropped the puck O'Malley brought his stick up and blatantly cross-checked Mark in the face. Mark dropped to the ice covering his bleeding mouth with his glove. The referee stopped the play signaling a penalty on O’Malley who turned with a smile and skated towards the penalty box. But it was too late; Mark snapped. He launched himself at O'Malley grabbing his jersey whirling him around.  Mark drove his fist into O’Malley’s face and who returned with a flurry of punches. The referees couldn’t separate the two, and moments later both benches cleared and a brawl ensued.

 The crowd became aroused by the violence, and Cara became nervous. She had never been in a crowd so energized by a fight. She couldn’t help feeling disapproval at such behavior at a sporting event that was meant to raise funds for charity. Cara turned to Rafe, but found him  in a heated argument with a fan sitting beside him.

 “Want to get out of here?” Cara shouted to Elyse above the din.

 “Nah, I gotta calm Rafe down before he gets into a fight,” she said, grabbing Rafe’s arm. “Cool it, Rafe!” she shouted.

 Cara left the Garden rattled.  She hailed a cab quickly and was relieved when she closed her apartment door behind her. She sat down on her couch heavily and put her head in her hands.  Mark’s anger made warning bells go off in Cara’s head.  She tried to reason with herself.  He had been the one attacked first but was his response appropriate? Even from where she sat she could see he had lost control.   She thought back to the bike incident.  Did Mark have a propensity for violence?  She knew she was going to have to confront this dark side.  Damn it to hell.  Couldn’t she ever just have it all?