Burgers, Fries, and Championship Rings: The Mike Hroch Story
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Jabs
Registered Member
As per this message, I still have technically not done my first double-media post, so I have written this – my second article and first non-draft article – for double moolah. Should be about 1,672 words. Thanks!
Our story – well, my story at least, the tale of Mike Hroch, the goalie, the champion - starts during Game 5 of the SMJHL Finals between the Carolina Kraken and the Colorado Raptors. It’s not that I was “checked out” or “distracted” during the first four games of the series, I was just riding the bench a lot. Which is cool, I enjoy the bench. It’s comfy and I don’t sweat as much when I’m out on the ice. My Kraken brethren looked like they had things under control and we were one win away from a title when the puck dropped during Game 5. I laced up my skates and was looking forward to playing more Candy Crush and Diner Dash on the sidelines. Things were not pretty during the first ten or so minutes of the game. Nolan McMahon, my friend and our starting goalie, just did not have it that night. I think it was fatigue, to be honest. McMahon had played most of the season and the entirety of the finals up until that point. He needed a breather, and unfortunately it took him giving up 3 goals in quick succession for coach to give him that opportunity. “Hroch, put down the burrito, you’re going in,” I head from the sidelines. I took a hard gulp, grabbed my hockey stick, and skated out into the ice in front of thousands of screaming fans. I wasn’t nervous, and it’s not like I didn’t want to play in the game. I take pride in my role as a backup, a supporter for the rest of the team. I make them laugh and occasionally get McMahon some minutes off when he needs the rest. And now was the time for me to do my duty. The Raptors came out swinging. I blocked a number of shots and racked up a few playoff saves. It was exhausting, but I had my teammates supporting me and I ended up playing the rest of the game. I gave up a few goals but helped keep the game close. Ultimately we lost, but I thought I did a good job given the circumstances and how green I still am as a player. The fact that I got into game action, even though we lost, helped make the victory the next night that much sweater. I love sitting on my ass, don’t get me wrong, but the fact I skated alongside my Kraken guys during the finals that we eventually freaking won made it that much sweeter. The clock ran out on Game 6, and in the end, the Carolina Kraken were crowned champions. The immediate aftermath was a bit of a blur, but I’ll try to recount my experiences here. There was a lot of celebrating right there on the ice with my teammates. I threw my stick in the air and raced out onto the ice to join the dog pile. I was scared shitless of falling over and somebody cutting off one of my fingers – that’s how intense this celebration was. We sang Sweet Caroline over and over on the way to the locker room. It’s a song that holds a special place in my heart as a guy who spent a lot of time in the New England area growing up, and it’s so cool that it kind of became our rally cry and celebration song throughout the season. Then, the beers came. Oh, the beers. I love a good brewski and there were Budweisers aplenty in the locker room. As a 350 pound man, it takes quite a few beers to give me a buzz. I probably chugged 19 beers before some lonely reporter decided I would be there target for an interview. I obliged, and went back to chugging. We partied in the clubhouse for hours, then changed out of our cleats and went out on the town. Most of the crew went to a local sports bar, but I was hungry after all those beers so I took a couple of the defensemen to Hardee’s. We called a Lyft XL and headed over to the closest fast food spot about a half mile away. Slurring my words, I tipped the driver $2,000 to stick with us the whole night and help us celebrate. His name was Demetri and he happily obliged. I’ve shared on Twitter, in postgame quotes, and in articles that I love food. It’s a vice, it’s a part of me, it’s the way I celebrate and indulge. So you better believe that after winning my first ever championship of anything in my entire life, I’m going on a bit of a bender. I wasn’t an All-Star this year and I may never be one in my career, but to kick off my fast food night I opted for the Double Cheeseburger & Hot Dog All Star Meal – comes with a charbroiled double cheeseburger on a seeded bun, a jumbo hot dog, fries, a small Diet Coke, and a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie. I ate the cookie first because, c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves here. On my hot dog I got mustard (get that ketchup out of here!) and everything came on the burger except onions because they give me a bit of a tummy ache (at least, more of a tummy ache than usual). We poured some bourbon in our fountain drinks, cheers to the title, and got back in the Lyft. At least, I got back in the Lyft. The other guys wanted to catch up with the rest of the party but I was still a little hungry. They called their own rideshare back to that sports bar, and Demetri and I headed to Chick-fil-A. I don’t get Chick-fil-A too often, I naturally prefer burgers. But hey, it’s a special night and I wanted to treat myself a bit. Demetri and I hit the drive-thru on this one which was long as all hell. Halfway through waiting in line, I stumbled out of the car and went inside to order at the counter. “Hey, do you play for the Kraken?” some dude behind me in line asked. I was still wearing my jersey, Hroch #82 loud and proud. “Hell yeah I do!” I said and gave that guy a high five. After I received my meal, the patrons of the restaurant may or may night have been chanting my name in celebration as I exited. A few days later, I found a Deadspin article with some footage from my Chick-fil-A visit. They made fun of me a little bit: “Minor league hockey goalie celebrates Four Star Cup victory exactly where you’d expect him to.” My order from Chick-fil-A was a Spicy Deluxe Sandwich (love that pepper jack cheese…mmm) with two orders of Waffle Potato Fries and a literal bag full of Chick-fil-A sauce. I got nuts for that dang sauce. The lady at the counter only wanted to give me four packets. Thankfully my fan friend behind me in line came to my aid – “Do you know who this guy is? A damn champion!” – I guess playing sports has its perks sometimes, as I walked out of there with about 24 sauce packets. Demetri had stayed in the drive through line so I also had a Pink Lemonade when I got back in the car. We slipped some vodka in there and I gorged down my meal as we went to our next destination. “Where to?” Demetri asked. “Let’s hit that bar,” I said. Demetri headed south. I love bringing food for all the guys. If I can’t contribute much on the ice, I like to try and support them in other ways. We made it to the sports bar in record time and most of the team was still there taking shots. I bear-hugged my friends and started to drink with them and the fans. I don’t know how much time passed, but eventually a Domino’s delivery guy came in holding three dozen pizzas. “Order for Mike!” he said. I must’ve forgotten the specifics but I had ordered pizza for the bar during the car ride. Each pizza was an extra-large Wisconsin 6 Cheese pizza. Above a fine layer of robust tomato sauce there was mozzarella, feta, provolone (my favorite), cheddar, parmesan, and asiago. The cheese toppings vaguely looked like a Kraken – must have put some special instructions on there. I tipped the guy and started passing out slices. Delicious. The Four Star Cup was sitting on the bar. The bartenders kept filling it with Long Island iced teas and we were passing them around from Kraken to Kraken. I can’t remember how long we stayed at the bar. The next thing I remember was sitting in the drive-thru with Demetri at McDonald’s with the Four Star Cup in the passenger seat. When we got to the first window, I stuck the cup outside of the car and handed it to the attendant. “Can you fill this with as many fries as possible?” I muttered. Surprisingly, the clerk obliged. Greasy, salty, delicious fries inside of a sticky-from-booze trophy – every little boy’s dream. I ate the fries one-by-one as Demetri drove down the highway. All I could do was stare out the window and admire the colors of this beautiful city. Demetri helped me into my studio apartment and onto my bed, which let out a loud creek as I flopped my body onto the mattress. I tossed Demetri another hundred and asked him to bring the Cup back to the stadium for safekeeping. I’m sure it made it back… right? The next morning, tired and hungover, I ordered Burger King breakfast via Postmates – a double Croissan’wich with sausage and bacon and three sides of French Toast Sticks. I took some aspirin, flopped in front of my couch, and ate my breakfast watching the local news cover the victory from the previous night. I still can’t believe it. The previous night’s bender was not a mirage. The Carolina Kraken are Four Star Cup Champions.
hotdog
SHL GM RIP Dangel
didn't realize drafting you would make me so hungry but here we are...
love ya jabs, great read
SDCore
Simmer General Dumbass of the Site
Jabbbooo the GOAT
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