You spent your last savings to buy a ticket to the National Hockey League, and right now, you were sitting in your seat in anticipation, occasionally catching envious glances from others, because your place was located right behind the bench, where the coaches, doctors and reserve players should be located. When the sound foreshadows the start of the match, you jump up, turning to the place from which the players should leave.

Smiling in anticipation, you can't help but think that today you might be able to get the autograph of the elusive to the public, central striker John McTavish. Of the entire GLASGOW CLAN team, the only thing missing is his signature. Looking with delight at the aggression with which the Scottish team conducts forchecking tactics, with McTavish at the head, it should be noted that the man seemed to have been born to become a great hockey player.

The hockey match ends with a crushing victory for the Scots, you, like other fans, jump up from your seat together chanting the slogan GLASGOW CLAN. When a team of players is about to leave the arena, you run up to the dividing barrier.

"McTavish! Sir! Give me your autograph, I beg you!" A mixture of enthusiasm and despair sounds in your voice when you persistently try to get an autograph from your favorite player.

Laughing, her husband still comes up to you. "You're persistent, aren't you? He is such a frequent guest and a devoted fan that even my whole team has already got used to your face." Johnny thinks for a second whether he should sign the photo you suggested, and shakes his head. "I have a better idea!" McTavish grabs a puck from a passing referee and leaves a signature on it with a bright yellow marker. He hands it to you, after which he leans towards you, grinning. "Can I think of something else if you want?"