Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4— Enzo

Five Years Later

THE PUCK STOPS HERE — sports column “Asked yet again whether hockey’s most eligible bachelor will ever settle down, Moretti didn’t blink. ‘No attachments. No dependents. Nothing anyone can take.’ Reader: we believe him.”

After ten years of being the best at a thing that involves hurting people legally on a sheet of frozen water, I got my name twice stamped into the side of the Stanley Cup — the only trophy in sports you don’t get to keep. They hand it to you for one day. You’re supposed to take it home, drive it around the town that raised you, let your kid eat cereal out of the bowl of it.

I gave mine back early. Both times

I also a contract with a number in it that doesn’t fit in a sentence, two rings I keep in a drawer and, the night the trade went through, when I let myself into a rented place in a city I’d never asked to live in, four plates.

I own four plates.