All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.

"You ready for the big game?" Woody asked Steph.

"I mean this in the best possible way, but I was just telling Ranger that you're all nuts."

He grinned at her, not fazed. "You gotta celebrate having survived another Jersey Winter somehow."

"It still feels like Winter," she pointed out. "It's barely 60 degrees. That's just Mother Nature dipping her toe in the Spring-pool while telling Winter to 'Wait a sec … don't you go anywhere yet'."

His smile widened and Vince laughed, catching what she'd said after coming out of the control room kitchen. "You're coming though, right?" He asked Steph.

"I'm going to complain that it isn't eighty-degrees outside and we won't all be on a beach, but Olive and I will definitely be there to cheer you on."

"Even if we're not on Ranger's team?" Ram asked.

"If you're not, I'll just wish for a close game … with my guy winning of course."

"Which I will, having two cheerleaders rooting obnoxiously for me," I told her.

"Cheerleaders my ass," my wife said. "I'm going to have a heck of a time keeping Olive from trying to run along beside you. And playing Keep-Away from Lester is one of my favorite pastimes. Cheering from the sidelines isn't really our thing."

"Does that mean you wanna play?" Bobby asked, hearing her comment.

"No. I already participated by sweet-talking Ranger's mom into letting Olive borrow the jersey every Manoso baby before her wore, just so Olivia can support her Daddy properly. Of course, that was before I learned your teams are 'Shirts' versus 'Skins'. I repeat, you guys are nuts. It's too cold to be without a jacket, let alone shirts."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "That's ... the ... point. Only the strongest survive."

My wife grinned at me. "Guess that means Ranger and Tank are on the 'Skins' team. And thank you. You suddenly got me real interested in football. I can watch my half-naked Ranger all day."

"It's not that different than what you do everyday in the gym," Brown teased.

He paid for that. Steph hip-checked him with the one Olivia isn't perched on. The annual/bi-annual - depending on the weather - 'Fuck Winter' Rangeman Football game, is just that ... a game. A reasonably-safe way for the men to blow off a little steam. They can knock each other around under the guise of a little friendly competition.

My team will have an influence-advantage. Olivia is wearing the football jersey that every Manoso child has worn from Celia all the way down the line of us to Julie. The tradition living on with Olivia wearing the signature red shirt with MANOSO written over an 01. In my parents' eyes, each of us are number one to them. Having had six kids, and now two grandchildren, the baby sports-shirt has had a good run.

Steph was undecided on how to show her own support ... wear her Ranger's jersey because it had 'my name' on it, or one of my sweatshirts because it's mine. In the end, she went with my Rangemen shirt since hockey isn't the sport of the day.

"Is this even legal?" She asked me, after we got Olive into her jacket and little red boots that will keep her feet dry when she does get down to play with us, and I led the caravan to a quiet park ten minutes away from our building.

"It's a public park, Babe. We can play a game here as long as we keep it relatively tame and non-alcoholic."

"No, I meant with your guns on display, not to mention the rest of your team's muscles. I'm pretty sure you're breaking all kinds of laws ... murdering other park visitors' hopes of ever being you, stealing the hearts of any female in a one-mile radius of this place, beating the opposing team ... "

"Those are the only laws we're breaking, but I doubt your charges would hold up in court."

I could feel her eyes caressing me as I stripped off my shirt. Normally, I leave public displays to the younger guys who still have something to prove, but turning my wife on with just glimpses of my body in action, has never not paid off for me. As long as her eyes stay trained on me and don't veer off to anyone else on my team, there will be no problems today. A shirtless eleven-man team that includes Tank, Cal, Hector, Raphael, and Hal, could be a distraction to most ... given that these are the men who spend the most time in the gym after me.

But my wife looked at no muscles that aren't attached to my body. And when she wasn't blatantly ogling me, she was whispering to our daughter and encouraging her to point, clap, and yell 'Da-Da' at me.

I was the center of their attention and support, but at least two of my men received their own cheering section, since Cal and Raphael invited Kenzie and Aubrey to come watch what they expected to be a winning game for them. I can't say I see this as anything more than just another form of exercise, but I do excel at protecting my people and also driving men into the ground, so playing Left Tackle to protect Hector and his throws, is a mostly innocent way to kill an hour or two of a sunny/blue sky day that promises consistent Spring weather is coming.

I can't claim it was a fair fight. Whenever I went after my opposition, they suddenly decided to change their direction after mouthing an 'Oh fuck!' as I beared down on them. I also made it a point to mow Santos or Brown down just because they'd bitched up until the game started about having to keep their shirts on in case they could still land a date even after my team's declared the winner.

When we had more than a considerable lead, Steph locked her legs gently around Olive's bouncing body and called a time-out from the sidelines. "Baby on the field!" She shouted before uncrossing her ankles and letting Olivia loose, so every man would instantly freeze and there'd be no chance of anyone bumping into her.

Olivia's footwear slowed down her usual run, but she adapted fast and quickly picked up speed as she left Steph and headed our way. She clearly had a mission ... getting, in her mind, the toy we've been hogging. The ball we'd been tossing around so easily, Olivia needed both hands, her legs, plus her little rounded belly, in order to get it off the ground even an inch.

"Spike the ball, Olive! Like this," Lester encouraged with a sweep of his arm to show her what to do.

She opened both arms and stood straight up again. The football and gravity worked together to put points on the board even though she was nowhere near the end zone.

"Touchdown!" Bobby shouted, exchanging a high-five with my baby.

"Olive for the win," Tank deadpanned.

"She is always on her Daddy's team," Steph said, coming onto our makeshift field, "but you guys were winning anyway. She really just upped the adorable score."

I was in the middle of forming a smile in response to her comment that my 'sonar' was able to pick up despite the distance between us, when something froze my blood even as it had me hauling ass faster than I had in the last hour. I was running to Stephanie and Olivia before the sound of a gunshot could even be heard.