The Soviet were beating us. Not only on the scoreboard, but they were giving us a physical beating too.
I wasn't happy, but I was okay. Until that big, stupid Russian hit Jack.
"Madonna Mia!" I screamed, grabbing Mr. Craig's hand and squeezing it.
"He'll be okay, honey," said the older man.
"He's not getting up, oh Dio, why isn't he getting up?"
"He's gonna be alright," assured a woman next to me, "Do you know him?"
"He's my boyfriend," I answered, barely breathing.
"Oh, well, honey, I'm sure you could go down to the locker room or something, to check on him, you know?"
"You think so?"
"Oh, sure honey. My son is Mike, Mike Ramsey."
"My brother is Mike Eruzione, actually."
"Oh a brother and a boyfriend on the Olympic team, look at you!"
"Gianna, look, he's getting off the ice, go down now," said Mr. Craig, pointing to the ice.
I headed to wherever in Madison Square Garden they keep the injured players.
"Jacky? Baby?"
"Hey, Gi. They're really killin' us, huh?"
"Jesus Christ, Jack, are you okay? Does it hurt bad?"
"You know, Gianna, it really, kinda does. Like, I'm used to taking hits and stuff, but this was bad. Plus, I don't know how long I'll be out for- that just makes it hurt worse, you know?"
Gianna had never seen Jack cry, except for when he heard about Mrs. Craig; and pretty much everyone cried that day, so she couldn't be certain, but she could have sworn there were tears in his eyes. That just made her cry worse- and she hadn't even noticed she had started to in the first place.
"Squeeze my hand as hard as it hurts," I said, grabbing his hand in my two much smaller ones.
He only squeezed it lightly, and when I looked at him for an explanation, all he said was, "I'm a tough guy; your delicate, girly sensibilities can't handle my pain."
"Squeeze harder," I said, "A nice Italian girl like me can handle it."
"Sometimes I wonder if Rizzo thinks that's your real name."
"It really might as well be."
"Well, a nice Italian girl like you might get into trouble hanging out here in the locker room with a half naked hockey player."
"You're hardly half naked. You're substantially covered up. Anyway, even nice Italian girls like me break the rules, every once in a while."
"Is that so?"
"Only for the boys we really, really like."
"Do you really, really like me?"
Smiling through my tears, I kissed him, just, to shut him up. I didn't need his jokes making me laugh while I was supposed to be concerned for him. We were just getting into the kiss when the doctors showed up and I nearly died of embarrassment.
"I'll see you later, okay baby?"
"Okay G," he said, turning serious at the appearance of the doctors. I walked out of the room and said a quick prayer for him before I returned to the stands. I said a quick prayer there too, because, man, were they good.
