Hello Stingrays Fans,
Today's SS comes to you with a fair amount of ire at the thought of at least one more week of sitting out of the lineup, consequences of a poorly fought tilt over a month ago in FLA. While it was a nice unburdening getting my first pro fight out of the way, it was, in reality, nothing more than a few moments of angry hilarity ensuing after a vicious hit that left me crumbled along the boards with no bucket. After a couple of weeks of wondering why my finger looked huge and crooked, the team docs deduced that a screw was needed and a couple weeks of vacation. Several teammates have reminded me of the distance between a finger and the heart, and a friend alluded to the story of Ronnie Lott during my playing interim, however it's a digit that I happen to be particularly fond of, and any further mishaps prior to healing mean a metal plate. Since I'm not much for the extra body search at the metal detectors in airport security, the decision was made for me. The metal brace surrounding an already daft finger allows me to mush four keys at once making the computer my nemesis as I have no dialing wand. Regardless, I'll try to bring you up to speed.
We've seen a lot of comings and goings in the past few weeks with moves back and forth from Hershey, as well as the addition of the blonde stallion and immediate hetero-life partner to Andricopoulos, Rory Rawlyk. Andy had been in solitude since the loss of previous roommate Tommy Maxwell in the early goings of the season, and there is a certain glow that has returned to his small corner of the locker room due to the recent companionship. With the gain of Rawlyk brought the loss of Gabinet, as he was called up to spread his wings in Springfield, leaving Chaput to his lonesome with the loss of both roommate and fitness consigliore in one quick swoop. Chris has since been a nomad throughout the apartment complex in search of friendship, guitar hero, and cold cereal to dull the pain.
A recent organizational promotion called Faith and Fun Night found a large ration of fans and church groups congregating at the North Charleston Coliseum to enjoy a hockey game followed by a concert. Herein begins the tale of how a short conversation between myself and the voice of Stingrays hockey inevitably concluded with me putting my public speaking skills to the test in front of a few thousand eager fans. A week prior to said event, I passed Josh Heller in the hallway and he casually mentioned that my name had come up as a possible speaker for some Christian deal the team was putting on. Since I had no prior knowledge of such a promotion I figured it would be similar in numbers to events of the past, perhaps a few hundred people at most. I agreed partially out of feeling dutifully responsible as a man of God, but mostly out of my own guilt. Fast-forward to Friday evening when Radar told me that ticket sales had been going well and to expect a "decent" crowd. It was at this point that I realized not only would this presentation be given in front of more than the originally agreed upon group size, but directly following the game, ON the ice. Happy as I was to talk about Jesus, seeing a full audience filling one entire side of the coliseum after a demoralizing loss tends to catch one with his pants down, as it certainly did mine. It was quite the experience none the less as well as taught me a valuable lesson in asking questions and reading the fine print before signing.
During my little hiatus shortly following my Jesus speech, the team and coach Bednar were gracious enough to allow me a few days to head back to Seattle to see the folks and siblings, and help allay the monotony of skating and working out everyday without any stickhandling. Barring the fact that it's just a finger and the rest of the body is capable of destruction seems to make no difference, as playing with the puck is the part about hockey that makes it sweet. I was never a very big fan of running growing up, probably the reason pro soccer never crossed my path, and skating tricks you into cardio work as long as you can fool yourself by chasing a puck; this just skating stuff is for the birds, though.
Have to run, big night against Augusta at home and I hear the stationary bike calling my name. See you around the coliseum, til next time...