Just thought I’d take some time from another busy working vacation to say hi to everybody back home at the Hall. I know it still irks a lot of you that I’m the only one of us that gets to travel regularly, but hey, hands up those of you who have found themselves at the bottom of the St. Lawrence River at one time or another? Exactly.
What the rest of you need to realize is my life isn’t all photo ops and giggles. There are a lot of unpleasant aspects to this constant life of touring. Do any of you have any idea how many times I’ve been kissed? Having that many lips all over you on a regular basis can really wreak havoc with a trophy’s self esteem. I feel cheap, and easy. My brother’s a colander in a high-end Italian restaurant and I spend my life covered in saliva. Thank God for stainless steel or I’d be hooked to an IV constantly.
You probably heard about my historic maiden voyage to Newfoundland. It was actually quite nice. The people there are genuine, friendly and really great to be around. Of course, weeks later, I still smell like fish.
I don’t know the exact stats, but I think I’m about half way through this summer’s itinerary. I never really get the updates because, frankly, they have this hangup about talking to a piece of silverware. They spend their lives escorting an inanimate object around the globe while wearing white gloves and I’m the weird one.
Chris Chelios took me on his board again this year. Dude’s a surfer, did you know? So, we’re up riding this really huge wave, when all of a sudden, we’re swept off by this major swell and, next thing I know, there’s a 12-foot shark trying to turn me into tinfoil. Stupid thing couldn’t make a dent, although he did do a number on Ken Linseman’s nameplate. I think it was a Great White, which means there are now at least two kinds of sharks that can’t get a hold of the Stanley Cup!
The European leg of this thing is going to take longer than usual this time around. Sweden alone is going to take three weeks – four if we’re slowed by any more caribou herds. Everyone is blonde here, even the redheads are just blondes with freckles.
I think we’re going to some festival tomorrow celebrating some sort of ancient Viking thing…or it could be a strip club. It might even be an ancient Viking strip club. I’m also really hoping I get to see where ABBA is buried.
Well, last stop on the tour is Henrik Zetterberg’s house. I still think it’s a stupid idea that I have to visit the players in alphabetical order, but who listens to trophies anymore?
See you soon,
P.S. Don’t forget to water the fern.
The preceding was purely fictional and meant for entertainment purposes only. By entertainment, we mean we hope you laughed while reading it, framing it, or burning it. Any similarities between this and actual events is strictly coincidental and frankly, dumb luck. Remember to remind your lawyer about the made-up part, OK?
Charlie Teljeur, creator of THN's hockeysockpuppettheatre, brings you Loose Change every Thursday only on thehockeynews.com. Subscribe to The Hockey News today to have Charlie's cartoon delivered to you in each issue.
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