Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
In a way, I was playing for my grandpa too. Even though he wasn’t here to see it, I wanted the world to know Teddy Holt’s grandson was worthy of his last name.
Sal yelled out directions as we descended the plane stairs. The humidity made me break into an immediate sweat. It was hot as hell—even worse than I’d expected from a tropical island in June.
“Anything you brought with you must be in your bag, and your bag must be added to this pile!” Sal called out. “No cell phones, wallets, photos, or personal items of any kind. If you’re caught with anything other than the clothes and shoes you’re wearing and the items we give you, it’s grounds for removal from the show.”
She didn’t seem very old—maybe thirty—but Sal wasn’t intimated by this group of athletes. She wore dark-rimmed glasses and a faded Red Sox cap.
Hmm…Red Sox? If she was a fan of Boston’s baseball team, was she also a fan of their hockey team? I couldn’t let Rod have any sort of edge, so I’d have to keep my eyes wide open.
After I kissed my grandpa’s lucky quarter, I put it in my bag of personal effects. I was uneasy about leaving my stuff, but I had no choice.
Once we’d all emptied our pockets, sent final farewell texts to family members, and turned our bags over to be loaded into a van, we climbed onto the ATVs that would take us to the boats.
I was psyched. I never would’ve applied to be on a reality TV show—my hockey schedule wouldn’t have allowed for the commitment. But the league was on board with this one, using it as an opportunity to rally fans around their teams and hopefully gain some new fans.
Not only was I competitive, I’d learned survival skills in Boy Scouts. I could tie knots, start fires, and navigate through dense forests. Though I learned all this in the woods of Iowa, I could apply them on an island too. I’d just sweat harder and have a deeper tan by the end.
Piece of cake.
After a thirty-minute ride, we arrived at a dock where everyone grabbed sandwiches and loaded onto two boats.
I was taking in the view when Rod walked over to me, grinning.
“Dude, if you’re still here when the season starts, the Mammoths might have a shot at winning,” he said.
“Shit, man. I’d put my team up against yours any day of the week.”
His expression turned serious as a moment of silence passed.
“You think we’re working in teams?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe in the beginning?”
He looked over one shoulder, then the other, before speaking in a hushed tone. “You want to have each other’s backs?”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“I don’t want to shake on it because I don’t want anyone to see,” he continued. “And we should stop talking right after this and not be seen together again. But I’m in this to win it, and I’ll have your back if you’ll have mine until we’re the only two left.”
There was no one better to have an alliance with than Rod. He had a reputation for being honest and hardworking. Maybe we could steamroll the competition together.
“Yeah, you’ve got my word,” I said.
“Okay, guys!” Sal called, standing on a bench seat so everyone could see her. “Our host, Josh Carville, just arrived with the camera crew. We’re going to start filming now, and Josh has some announcements to make.”
Josh Carville was a tall, lanky guy with blond hair down to his chin. He’d hosted another reality show for seven years, about people switching everything from their homes to their spouses with other people.
In the episodes I’d watched, I’d seen a dude get his ass chewed by his wife, another guy’s wife he had to live with for a week, and then his own wife again as soon as they were reunited.
A wife was a hard pass for me. At least for the next ten or fifteen years. Once I was in my forties I’d think about settling down and having kids. Life was like a giant Baskin-Robbins, and I still had a lot of flavors to taste.
“Welcome to Exiled!” Josh announced, the cameras rolling. “Each of you represents a pro hockey team, but in the end, only one will be the last man standing. That man will win a donation of $500,000 to the charity of his choice.”
I joined the other guys in clapping and cheering for that prize, which was well worth playing for. I knew immediately that I was playing for The Teddy Holt Foundation, which my grandpa had established to help veterans wounded in combat.
Josh continued to explain the initial steps of the competition. “Our first order of business will be cutting the number of contestants in half. We’re about to set off for the island some of you will call home for a while. Once we get there, we’ll immediately hold a competition to see which sixteen of you will vie for the prize.”