He smiled so much for so long that his cheeks hurt. Everyone wanted just one more picture, one more hug, one more moment of time. He tried to be patient, he really did, but finally he'd asked Ox, best man in more ways than one, to do what he did best: get the offensive line together to guard the Quarterback so he could score. Betsy, looking like a picture of Jackie Kennedy only more beautiful, had squealed and lost her veil when he tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain but it was all for show. Flanked by his old teammates they busted out of the K of C hall and into the sunshine. His new team, his Corps, lined the stairs, their dress blues with blood stripes and gleaming buttons crisp as you please. Rice hailed down and swords rang in the late afternoon air.
Joe Dawson ran away with his bride.