know it. I’m sat with the die-hard Rangers fans, enough rows back from the cage that neither Rory, nor the rest of the technical and managerial staff will be able to see me here.
I still have no idea how I’m going to do this. Actually, I have no idea whether I’m going to do this at all. I didn’t really think past the coming here bit, so the rest is a little fuzzy still. For people that share a human being together, we have said remarkably few words to each other, and because I never thought I’d see him again, I never really thought about what would happen if I did.
I’m here because my situation has left me with little other option, and Rory has a right to know he has a son in this world. That doesn’t mean I want us to repeat what happened in the alleyway, it just means it’s time for Rory to take financial responsibility for those incredible few minutes we shared.
Another week has come and gone, another half a dozen interviews without success. If I want to continue living in this city, and move forward instead of backward, I need someone to help me do it. I don’t want Rory to take Oscar back to Ireland with him, and as scared as I am of that happening, it’s a risk I have no option but to take.
I need a new apartment. I need enough money to pay for childcare. I need to pay for doctor’s bills and medication and if I can’t do any of that, I can’t be a mother to my son in the way that he deserves, and the way that I want to be.
I need Rory, and it isn’t fair, now that the opportunity has presented itself, for me to keep the news about Oscar quiet.
He may tell me to fuck off back to where I came from. He may deny it all and want nothing to do with me. He may not remember the connection we had in the same way at all, but I can’t leave it any longer before finding out.
I still can’t believe it and I’m not the only one. Everyone in this crowd is calling for Francis’s head. Rory is a huge man, but he’s not a professional ice hockey player and even before the game has started it shows.
He’s competent enough on the skates, but it’s clear he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. As far as I can tell he’s had one week to come up to speed, and everything else he’s bringing over from his own sport, a kind of bloodthirsty cross between rugby, lacrosse, and field hockey.
He clearly knows how to handle himself, whether he knows how to do it while skating on ice is another thing entirely.
I fully expect him to get wiped out as soon as the game begins. The Bruins are dirty players at the best of times, most of all when they have something to prove, and I know they’ll want to target him specifically, even if it means losing the game, just to make an example. It’s no secret that every single hockey player from New York to San Francisco is up in arms about the transfer, even more so because Francis has decided to put him immediately into the first team on a salary even higher than some of the veteran players.
They don’t like their sport being mocked, even less by an Irish ex-con whose talent seems to lie solely in his physique and disposition for violent conduct. It’s a little hypocritical from some of the players, but from others, I can see where they are coming from.
I’ve been a fan of this sport for as long as I’ve been able to stand up, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Rory might be the king of hurling back in his own country, but here he’s starting as nothing more than a pawn. It’s a sacrifice Francis seems willing to make, even if it’s costing him a million dollars for the pleasure, and as they line up for the start of the game, Rory looks every bit as complicit.
Francis could well be going mad. The Rangers were at the tail end of a downward slide when I was here last year, and this season looks every bit like that promises to continue. The money to pay for Rory’s contract could easily have brought in two talented journeyman players, which might have been
I still have no idea how I’m going to do this. Actually, I have no idea whether I’m going to do this at all. I didn’t really think past the coming here bit, so the rest is a little fuzzy still. For people that share a human being together, we have said remarkably few words to each other, and because I never thought I’d see him again, I never really thought about what would happen if I did.
I’m here because my situation has left me with little other option, and Rory has a right to know he has a son in this world. That doesn’t mean I want us to repeat what happened in the alleyway, it just means it’s time for Rory to take financial responsibility for those incredible few minutes we shared.
Another week has come and gone, another half a dozen interviews without success. If I want to continue living in this city, and move forward instead of backward, I need someone to help me do it. I don’t want Rory to take Oscar back to Ireland with him, and as scared as I am of that happening, it’s a risk I have no option but to take.
I need a new apartment. I need enough money to pay for childcare. I need to pay for doctor’s bills and medication and if I can’t do any of that, I can’t be a mother to my son in the way that he deserves, and the way that I want to be.
I need Rory, and it isn’t fair, now that the opportunity has presented itself, for me to keep the news about Oscar quiet.
He may tell me to fuck off back to where I came from. He may deny it all and want nothing to do with me. He may not remember the connection we had in the same way at all, but I can’t leave it any longer before finding out.
I still can’t believe it and I’m not the only one. Everyone in this crowd is calling for Francis’s head. Rory is a huge man, but he’s not a professional ice hockey player and even before the game has started it shows.
He’s competent enough on the skates, but it’s clear he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. As far as I can tell he’s had one week to come up to speed, and everything else he’s bringing over from his own sport, a kind of bloodthirsty cross between rugby, lacrosse, and field hockey.
He clearly knows how to handle himself, whether he knows how to do it while skating on ice is another thing entirely.
I fully expect him to get wiped out as soon as the game begins. The Bruins are dirty players at the best of times, most of all when they have something to prove, and I know they’ll want to target him specifically, even if it means losing the game, just to make an example. It’s no secret that every single hockey player from New York to San Francisco is up in arms about the transfer, even more so because Francis has decided to put him immediately into the first team on a salary even higher than some of the veteran players.
They don’t like their sport being mocked, even less by an Irish ex-con whose talent seems to lie solely in his physique and disposition for violent conduct. It’s a little hypocritical from some of the players, but from others, I can see where they are coming from.
I’ve been a fan of this sport for as long as I’ve been able to stand up, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Rory might be the king of hurling back in his own country, but here he’s starting as nothing more than a pawn. It’s a sacrifice Francis seems willing to make, even if it’s costing him a million dollars for the pleasure, and as they line up for the start of the game, Rory looks every bit as complicit.
Francis could well be going mad. The Rangers were at the tail end of a downward slide when I was here last year, and this season looks every bit like that promises to continue. The money to pay for Rory’s contract could easily have brought in two talented journeyman players, which might have been
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