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Keenan · 04-01-2013, 04:13 PM

Disclaimer: I'm aware that this can be interpreted as me complaining about being put on the fourth line for team USA, that cannot be further from the truth. I'm extremely glad to be on the team and can't wait for the tourney to start, plus the fourth line is getting 15% TOI which is much more than I was expecting anyway. This is just supposed to be a fun read.

And Jason Due picks up the puck behind his own net as the U.S. forwards go off the ice for a change. Due passes the puck forward to Raycroft who enters the offensive zone and passes the puck across the ice to Keenan, who leans into a shot...AND IT'S IN, THE UNITED STATES HAS WON THE TOURNAMENT IN OVERTIME AGAINST CANADA 3-2. I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU FOLKS BUT THAT HAS GOT TO BE THE MOST EXCITING

*BUZZZZZZ* *BUZZZZZZ* *BUZZZZZZ*

I opened my eyes as I began recognizing everything around me. I was in my hotel room. I've had that same dream ever since I was selected to represent the U.S.A in the IHF. I got out of bed and went to get dressed, unfortunately when I went to the closet I found it empty. I should have expected that, afterall, I was put into a roadside motel. Most of the other guys were put in a five star hotel, but they ran out of rooms, so Chris Partlow decided to throw the fourth liners in the shit-tel 10 minutes away. The doors don't have locks, the sink's water is darker than cola, and I'm pretty sure if you'd put the bed under a blacklight it would shine like the sun, and most of that wasn't even from me.

I knew I couldn't head to practice in only my SpongeBob pajamas so I decided to call Corey Tripp's room to see if he had some clothes I could borrow. I entered his number and after three rings I heard a voice answer "Hello?", "Corey?", "No, this is Frank", "Who the hell are you?" "Let's just say that I....found this phone last night" right after he said that I heard a knock on the door, "I gotta go, Frank" I said before I hung up and went to open the door.

Standing on the other side of the door was Corey Tripp, naked as the day he was born. "Hey, can I borrow some pants, some asshole stole all my clothes last night" I opened my closet and showed him that I didn't have any clothes either. I was the one to speak next "Yeah, I tried calling you, but I guess your phone was stolen too" before I could suggest anything to do next Tripp ran off, desperate to find his phone.

The only thing that I could think of doing next was to head to a nearby store and pick up a shirt. I sent a text to Zach Dooley asking him to tell Partlow that I'd be late. Two minutes later I got a text back "Who the hell is this?", when I sent "Frank?" back I immediately got a text back "who the fuck is Frank? This is Zach" so I had the right number, he just never saved mine. The life of a fourth liner...

After finding a shirt I was off to practice, I was sure that everyone would be livid with my tardiness. Partlow would give a speech about everyone having to be involved in the team, and Captain America himself Jordan Nugent-Hall would talk about how everyone is important and even one missing piece is enough to cause a natural disaster.

[Image: titanic-sinking.jpg]

After all, the Titanic was a fourth liner away from never sinking.

Pulling into the parking lot, I found all the spots taken by fancy sports cars, no doubt those of my teammates. Everywhere I looked I could see fancy cars while I was riding my hot pink 1999 Honda Civic. It was between that and a smart car, and I do still have a little self respect.

[Image: smart-car-1.jpg]

Hahaha, no.

As I entered the practice facility I saw the team practicing, Mosely was working on his slapshots as a couple of the forwards were helping Corcoran work on his angles. I skated up to Partlow and asked where he wanted me. He replied "Haha, very funny guys, who's idea was it tell this random loser in the Elmo shirt that he made the team?"

[Image: elmo%5B1%5D.jpg]

Shut up, it was all they had.

When no one answered, I was the one to answer his question "It's me Keenan, I have the invitation". He looked it over carefully and sighed, "alright then". Again I asked where he wanted me, he replied "go see if Langabeer needs some more water, also Light needs a stick taped". I asked if I should practice for when I see the ice and everyone immediately doubled over with laugter. The life of a fourth liner...

As I walked out of the rink after practice with my coffee cup, Braden Carlzner passed and dropped a quarter in my cup. Fed up with my shitty day I finally yelled out, "Come on, guys. I'm not homeless, I'm not a gypsy, I'm not a door to door salesman, and you didn't see me on to catch a predator last night, I'm Kyle Keenan, your fourth line left wing." I was waiting for a response but I realized everyone had left, everyone except for a man I didn't recognize who asked "are you the one asking about the guy who was on To Catch a Predator last night, because that was me." His voice trailed off as I ran like a bat out of hell to my car.

Days went by and we were moving on to the finals against Canada, national pride and some snazzy medals were on the line, and I'd be damned if I let those floppy headed bastards win the gold.

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We don't have floppy heads, eh. I don't know what you're talking aboot.

Wouldn't you know that the game was tied 2-2 after three periods and we were heading into overtime. With a few minutes left I finally asked Partlow to put me in and sharing my recurring dream with him. After explaining to him who I was (again), he reluctantly agreed. I saw Due pass the puck up to Raycroft, I knew what was coming next. I positioned myself across from him and called for the pass, it went crisp on my tape and I leaned into the shot and then...

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nothing?

When I awoke it was a week later and I didn't know what had happened. I picked up my phone to call Roman Schultz to see what happened. "Hello", "Hey Roman, it's Keenan, what happened at the game?" "Go to hell, fucking prank callers" was the last thing I heard before the dial tone. The life of a fourth liner...

When I checked my phone for the results I saw what had happened. I was hit into the goalpost, which resulted in a concussion. Canada picked up the puck and scored winning the game 3-2, in the postgame interview Partlow expressed hope that "Keenan would make a swift recovery" his thoughts were echoed by most of the team as well. I had finally done it, I gained notoriety, and all it took was being hit very dangerously by...Benoit Charlebois.

[Image: Snidely_Whiplash-300x172-1y81kpk.jpg]