Anne and I had more (ridiculously tame) hockey adventures this week. We went to the C@nes-K!ngs game which the home team somehow won convincingly and went afterward to stand in the cold and wait for autographs. Sadly after a big win, not very many players stopped, but it was still rather entertaining.
This was due mainly to the head coach, who pulled his truck over to inform the small crowd that "the players are still in the locker room but I had to get out of there quick, I have to go give my wife her Valentine!"
Crowd, as one: OOOOOOOOH.
Coach, laughing: Not like that!
He shook his head and drove off.
The other funny thing was this one 7-year-old who was there with his dad. Dad had trading cards for the players to sign but he wasn't always quite sure who was who. But he did get it right when TVR pulled over, and told the kid to wait his turn and then politely ask if TVR would sign his jersey and card.
So, when it was the kid's turn, he held out the card and said, politely, "What's your name?"
TVR, looking slightly pained and peering at the dad: ...Trevor.
Kid: Will you please sign my jersey?
Dad: *facepalming*
After TVR drove off...
Dad: You don't ask them who they are! You just take the autograph if they're nice enough to give it to you!
Kid: I didn't ask who he was! I asked what his name was! He was a creepy van guy!
Sadly, Commie was not there to sign my #22 jersey.
