New Year’s Eve in Times Square was wonderful. The snow stopped falling, the ploughs came out and cleared off the main streets, and downtown New York filled with hundreds of thousands of New Year’s revellers. The noise was deafening, the countdown and the fireworks spectacular. The broadcast went off without a hitch. No terrorist threats. No bare bum.
Nish was shattered. He walked around with his hands deep in his pockets and his face so sad you’d think his life was coming to an end. When the great ball dropped and the New Year arrived, he would have nothing to do with noisemakers. He wouldn’t dance. He wouldn’t cheer. He wouldn’t look at the big screen.
“My one chance to make the Guinness Book of World Records,” he kept muttering. “And I blew it.”
“Get into the spirit, Rolex Boy,” Sarah told him. “It’s a whole new year – anything can happen.”
“Nothin’ that good,” Nish said despondently. “That was the single greatest idea I ever had in my life. It’s all downhill from here for me.”
Sarah spun her finger by her temple and rolled her eyes at Travis. Travis shrugged. Nish was just being Nish. By tomorrow he’d have forgotten all about it and have a brand-new idea.
“Better get to bed,” Mr. Dillinger said as he came up behind them. “We’re on at noon tomorrow. Madison Square Garden. Championship game.”
“Who are we playing?” asked Derek.
“The Detroit Wheels,” Mr. Dillinger said. “We came first, they were right behind us in the standings.”
“The Wheels?” Nish asked. “Was that the team I scored the winner against?”
Mr. Dillinger frowned and looked over his glasses at Nish. How could he have forgotten? But Travis knew Nish hadn’t forgotten for a second. He just wanted to remind everyone he had scored the winner.
Nish was back in the real world.