Not everyone comes from Canada, or follows that country's national sport, so I'll quickly explain a "Hat Trick".

During the game of hockey, it is a relative rarity for one player to score as many as three goals in one game, and when it occurs, there's a spontaneous celebration from the fans that has them showering the ice rink with hats.

According to lore, the three goal reward began with the game of cricket, and a hat reward was made for three successive wickets.

In the 1940s, supposedly a haberdasher offered the same reward for the local pro hockey team, and "hat trick" is the natural colloquialism that remains to this day.

Suffice it so say that the term has expanded enough to be used beyond the game of hockey.

[That's enough redeeming social value.]

Michael Seamus Fitzpatrick VIII was too much of a mouthful and everybody in the small town where they lived knew his father (MSF VII), so Fitz became the diminutive of choice.

It became a moot point when the family moved to San Diego, but the nickname was now comfortable, so it stuck.

Dad was a construction engineer which had him on the road, quite often, and young Fitz became a stereotype of sorts when he had to grow up mostly on his own, and fighting became his strength.

But the measure of toughness isn't always how well you can dish it out, but how well you can take it.

At twelve, Fitz survived his mother's fatal auto accident, caused by a faulty brake system, and the settlement from the auto manufacturer was huge, except it took four years to receive.

Meanwhile, Fitz was a latch key kid, par excellence, who learned everything he needed to know by himself, including fitness, sports, and sex.

He lost his virginity at fourteen when he did some chores for a neighborhood widow.

He could tell she was so desperate for it that she would risk jail, but boys don't complain about being de-cherried, and Fitz was already heavily into self abuse, so he let this woman "seduce" him.

Marsha was a name he didn't feel very comfortable calling her, instead of Mrs. G., but she told him that using her first name would remove the guilt of her husband's memory interfering with their union.

She taught him well.

First of all, she wasn't unsightly as far as sex goes. It may not be fair, but it's hard - scratch that - it's difficult to get sexually aroused by someone who can't compare to the bevy of high school T & A available across America.

Marsha was twenty-nine, still firm in all the right areas, and away from her parents' part of the country, so she was also insecure. She was also quite desperate for a man which she felt was not STD risky, or one that would take advantage of her, never mind that she was taking advantage of Fitz.

After huffing and puffing and finally bringing several grocery packages into her kitchen, and then changing the ceiling light fixture, Fitz gladly accepted a fresh glass of lemonade and a respite.

When Marsha told Fitz to call her by her first name, he got antsy, but she quickly pulled the old clichÈ line on him asking, "Do you know how to screw?"

She held up a screw driver to make the question appear innocent, but Fitz knew the real intent and teased back, "What is that tool for, in case I say - no?"

Laughing, they both stood and closed the distance to each other, Marsha's hands around Fitz's neck, his around her waist, the other on her butt as they tongue duelled, interrupted only by the sound of the tool hitting the floor.

Despite Fitz's bravado, Marsha had an innate ability to fathom that this was his inauguration, so she helped him drag it out as long as possible.

In her bedroom and both naked, Marsha invited Fitz to closely examine every nook and cranny of her sexuality, sure that he would prematurely ejaculate.

He did and he did. He touched his tongue to every place Marsha asked, then allowed HER to examine him in a similar fashion.

She knew he couldn't last and he shot her mouth full in seconds.

But before Fitz could even begin to beg forgiveness, Marsha comforted him by saying, "Oh, you future stud! Now, you will be able to do it right, after you put it inside me."

Some nurturing caresses and an oral cleanup were all it took to make Fitz's engine of love salute yet again.

Soon, the two loveirds were finally in missionary position and Fitz was rubbing the glans against Marsha's clit as she nearly swooned in ecstasy.

She had never gone off "the pill", and that allowed her the spontaneity to indulge her woman/child fantasy without the worry of pregnancy, but just to keep Fitz's fantasy alive, she didn't let on about it.

When Fitz surprised her by asking if she were 'safe', she teased him by responding, "I WANT you to impregnate me if you're man enough to do it!"

Marsha pulled Fitz inside her. When she was sure that he couldn't stop himself, she began having second thoughts about the consequences, asking him, "Maybe it would be better if you didn't shoot it inside me but... oooooohhhh, harder, I think I'm cumming again!"

Mitch's hips could have been made in Detroit or Stutgart, because he was like a huge piston engine whose idle control was inoperative.

When Marsha whispered for him to hurry and take it out of her, he never even missed a beat, still chewing on a nipple, even as his penis exploded its boiling essence in repeated jets, fired straight into the doorway of her womb.

For a year and a half, on and off, the two of them gave themselves over to the other for sexual pleasure. Marsha made sure to tell young Fitz that she was 'safe', the second time he visited her. She didn't want guilt to be her hold over him.

When the San Diego thing came up, Fitz and Marsha made love with a never before urgency that consumed them both, knowing that they were soon to part for good. By this time, they had done every sexual thing there was to do, including anal.

The tearful goodbye took place with Marsha on her knees, begging Fitz, "How about one for the road?"

Fitz and she had spent three hours, the night before, getting all their final touches, but she was genuinely wishing the boy well. He allowed her to drink from his well spring one last time before departing with great sorrow.

In San Diego, his dad found a parochial school that was teeming with overly repressed young girls.

Hellfire and brimstone weren't enough to scare kids off once they finally learned that everyone does it.

Fitz had just come from a mature stable female, older yes, but willing to allow him to be the 'male' and control the tempo of their lovemaking.

These young girls couldn't begin to compete with that except they were so firm in EVERY place, and their female drives were generated by the same out of control hormones that Fitz had experienced.

As a soccer, basketball, wrestling, and baseball star, Fitz became quite the ladies man, but he was also picky.

Fitz didn't tolerate the petty nonsense that most boys do just because they need to find sex. His self confidence made him the envy of boys and girls, ofcourse for different reasons.

The very first time he let his guard down, he made it with a cheerleader.

An angular girl that might have been the least attractive cheerleader on the squad, Louisa reminded Fitz of Marsha.

Excpet for the skinniness, she could have passed for a younger sister to Marsha.

Only problem was: She was so reserved until Fitz took her cherry. Then she wanted to tell all the world!

With the shoe on the other foot, Fitz realized why so many girls refuse to stoop to so many seemingly good male specimens. He dropped Louisa like the prverbial hot iron.

One girl in his Englsh and Math classes was out for like four weeks. Football (and soccer) season was over by now as she returned to school.

She had tried out for cheerleader, but that fell through when she disappeared for so long. She even had to pay for the cheerleader outfit that was "lost".

The teachers never called on her, and for someone as slightly more grown than the average boy, Fitz discerned that she was being treated with 'kid' gloves and he was naturally curious.

When he began trying to talk to her in class, her seat was conveniently moved so that she was surrounded by other girls, and they all seemed to be IN on it!

Well now that it was a full blown mystery, Fitz had to follow it up, and just one more date with Louisa was all it took.

She blabbed, "Her father has officially abandoned the family. It's more like he's in prison. He, sort of, did things to her."

"What about her little sister, Vicky?" asked Fitz.

"No. She's still a virg... hey! What are you trying to pull?" Louisa was finally catching on.

Fitz made the rest of the date quite memorable for Louisa, going down on her like a trouper, even letting her have splendid seconds. He did not even try to copulate with her until she begged him for it. Then, he humped her but he pulled out and stuck her eye shut with his goo!

"What was THAT for?" she exasperatedly demanded to know.

"THAT was so you have something to brag about, tomorrow!" Fitz spat back. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? Besides, the first time we got together, you made a point of telling me you were safe, remember?"

She nodded.

"Well, you DIDN'T tell me you were safe THIS time. You had every opportunity," he finished.

"As you doubtless know by now, mostly everyone who brags about it hasn't done it, and those who have, keep quiet about it. Sadly in the case of Dana, she may never trust men again. She will be ripe for the dykes that seem to gravitate to someone like her as if they were hyenas after lion kill." Fitz finished his sermon.

Louisa learned her powerful lesson so well that she became part of his dating rota, and she knew better than to ask him about any of the other girls that he dated.

Fitz's senior year began with the devastating news that his father had been killed on the job site, a double indemnity accident that left him with the county's child services for the remaining ten months of his under 18 life.

Fitz had met the Rourkes only briefly, at a football game early in his junior year, before their father was removed from society, and he knew that Mrs. Rourke was having financial woes. Her kids now had to go to public school.

He asked his advocate how much money foster care pays the parents.

It wasn't enough to get Dana and Vicky out of public school, but it might make all the difference in the world to Mrs. Rourke.

Kate Rourke was a firm lass, even at thirty six. Why her husband dallied on her was not immediately known, but Fitz told his advocate to try to place him with his father's second cousin: Kate Rourke.

Fitz called her to explain the entire deal, including the county stipend to be spent for his upbringing for ten months, until he was 18.

When she asked him - she knew who he was, by reptation - why he made made such a thing up, he explained, "I can be cooped up here at county and have to live with strangers, or I can enjoy my last year of high school with people like me (Irish), and it would serve both our needs, I believe."

Not exactly total 'blarney', Fitz's offer was challenged by Kate, "What if they need proof? You're a minor. They ALWAYS need proof."

Fitz calmed her, "I gave them names of two relatives who will 'know' that you and my father were second cousins. I'm already independently wealthy, having plenty in the bank (2.9 million, even after the lawyers chewed it down), and insurance and my father's estate will certainly set me up for life." he confessed.

It was a done deal. A family with no man in the house was about to get one, and a young man with no more family was also about to get one.

County would check up, every so often, but other than that, it was the Rourkes and a Fitzpatrick.

Fitz was dropped off during a school day, and he was due back in school the next day.

When the girls got home from school, Vicky (now 16) took to Fitz right away, even kissing him hello and pressing up against him to see if she excited him!

Dana ofcourse, was quite the opposite, demanding to know, "Why have you pulled this crap?"

Before Kate could even begin to make something up, Fitz told her the truth, "Do you remember me from school?"

Dana nodded.

"Then you know that I'm a four letter man with my choices of college and of cheerleaders. I will not want for money unless I screw up royally." He laid it all out.

"So you also remember when I tried to talk to you in class and you had your seat moved? (nod) Well, I found out on my own why you were so aloof. You've been dealt some bad cards, Dana, but so have I. It's only for ten months, and then you're rid of me, but in those ten months, you can get some order back in your life, and so can I. Do you know how long it's been since I had home made corned beef and cabbage - or fish and chips?"

"Fish and chips?" interrupted Vicky. "What's that?"

"You're KIDDING me!" Fitz replied.

When Vicky continued to look befuddled, Fitz told her, "Deep fried fish, usually sole or cod, and fries. Where I came from, it's not only Soccertown USA, but Kearny, N.J. was also the fish & chip capital from the 1890s, when Congoleum Nairn came over from Scotland with hundreds of Irish and Scottish immigrants until recently, when all but two original recipe restaurants closed their doors. Only a few hundred feet from where that butcher shop you've seen in the Sopranos is located, which is next door to the Irish American club in Kearny, is one of the two remaining fish & chip restaurants I'm talking about, and it still does SRO business on Friday nights, quite often, despite the changing demographics."