Behold, the sunny, hot, dreary, winter of Hockey. We wander, all of us true fans, in a daze all day, parched for the smooth speed of the skated players, the dazzling moves of brilliant Europeans, the batshit wanderings of insane goaltenders, the dagger-eyes and confused words of steely coaches. And as we wander in this desert, we seek out little oases, tiny fonts of hockey goodness, there for a moment then gone, to give us life until the season comes again. Such cool respite as a fake promo contest, or this article on Chris "THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE" Chelios.
Me? Where am I in all this? Well I don't know if it's cool to admit this on a sports blog, but for the past week or so I've been hiding, in the deep jungles of Costa Rica, hiding from the internet, so as to avoid being spoiled on the ending of Harry Potter. Yes, that's right. But I have finally read the book, and so emerge from the deeps of Central America, haggard, worn, tired, and malnourished, classes, blogs, and my email inbox completely neglected.
As a feeble show of remorse, I offer this, for Bill's fake promo contest:
When I've had more food, I'll see if I can't come up with something a little better.