Triple Low Five

a prodigal son returns?

Stupid things make me cry.

I’m in tears right now.

I just watched it.

All canned, packaged and predictable.

It pushed every button.

The montage in the arena at the beginning was poetry.

Sure there were goals scored. The best part was through line: shot after shot of Brad Marchand being knocked again and again on his ample, mountainous, nose like Pinocchio’s nose after a big streak of lyin’. There are few things as pleasing as watching Mr. Marchand’s face register both shock and pain. This highlight reel tribute was peppered with such poetry.

They were honouring PK Subban. He retired this year and was for a time my favorite player. I loved him as a player. I met him when he was young. I was working as an arts educator. He was in grade eight or nine. I asked him what he wanted to do with his life. He moved incredibly. My thoughts? Acrobat? Cirque performer. He would be epic. He was so funny. I wanted to encourage him in whatever he did.

His response floored me. He said: I’m going to be in the N…