Story Board

It had been about a month since the fight, and I hadn't heard from Sandie. Meanwhile, Ken and Beth were moving back to Indiana, to be nearer to Beth's Dad. That was a long day.

"We knew a week before the fight came thru, Mark. When it did, we didn't want to burden you with our problem," she said, forlornly. It wasn't that big a surprise as her Pops had been a little under the weather, and it was time for someone to be there for him.

"And who knows, going back to South Bend, I may make like 'Rudy' and join the Irish," Ken piped in.

"Uh, I think not ... better you do that nuclear engineering thing or something like that. That seems more likely than you playing for ND."

"And Mark, thanks. It isn't often that someone goes from Kansas to a place like Atlantic City to fight, and actually has a shot a winning. It was a great experience."

"Like getting a horse in the Kentucky Derby," Beth chipped in. "And you have to be in it to win it, and for a second, we were in it."

"Hey, since you were there and all, tell me what did you think happened? Did I get cocky or something?"

"No Mark, that wasn't it at all," she began, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Turns out he was better than you on that night. Nothing more, nothing less. You gave as much as you could. No regrets, you left it in the ring."

AAAHHH ... that is how I like it. Straight on the rocks, no chaser. Shook hands, and wandered out the gym. Walking towards my car, I could hear the faint sounds of a light breeze rustling in my ears. "Langoliers," I told myself, the imaginary creatures of Stephen King's imagination that 'eats up' the past. "Guess I will have to track Sandie down ..."

My cell phone started to jangle. Fumbling for it in my messenger bag (or as Sandie corrected me --MY PURSE!), I couldn't get to it before it went to voice mail. I did check the caller ID, and on cue, it was her.