The Barnstormer has secured the cooperation of a locked-out NHL player who has agreed to document each day he is kept out of action on the condition that we do not reveal his identity. Ever. Read all the daily diary entries of “Cheap Throat” here.

9:15 — At Dad’s. If there’s one thing dad has a lot of it’s old stuff. Old records. Old copies of Playboy. Even old porn. I don’t know how mom never found it. Maybe she did and that’s why she left. Maybe it was the bills.

11:40 — Says dad: all us lockouts should get together and get some internet guys to tape and commentate our scrimmages and stream them online. He says people would watch. Come up with better names. Like Cougars, MILFS, and Garys. I’d play for the MILFS. Would play my heart out for them. I’d hate the Garys. They’d have to be based in Boston. Because I hate the fucking Bruins. And the Devils. And Panthers. And the Canucks. Oh and the Flyers.

1:00 — Creatine shake. Shit. Nap

3:40 — Dad’s basement. Holy Lord. Elle McPherson. Playboy. 1994.

5:15 — Went for a run. Thought of Elle in 1994. Then took care of some business in the woods.

7:25 — Tried to explain TEVO to Dad. Fail. Watched Police Academy II, which, says Dad, is the best one.

9:30 — Tried to explain iTunes to Dad. Fail. Listened to Greetings from Ashbury Park of vinyl. Then talking heads. I showed Dad that Gangam Style video on YouTube on my iPhone. He watched it then went to bed. He just doesn’t get stuff.

10:00 — Found the iPad I bought Dad for Christmas. Unwrapped it from the box for him and left it in the kitchen next to the coffee maker. Tablets are the solution for parents and retarded people.

1:15 — Took a final gander at that ‘94 Playboy issue. She kinda looks like Lana Del Rey in that issue except with a thousand times the confidence and also better. A little charisma goes a long way.

3:15 — Bettman is a modern day Napoleon. Lay in bed trying to think of Elle, couldn’t shake Bettman. Horrible fusion. Terrible sleep. Miss the 2K12, but my guy got a pretty bad concussion last game on a hit from, of all fuckers, Matt Cooke Jr. No fucking shit. I mean the computer generates a lot of players who have the same last name, but that’s too much. When I’m rested from this concussion I’m gonna tune the little shit.

Further Reading:

• “Cheap Throat: The Diary of a Locked-Out NHLer“. Read all the other entries here.
• “Complicit in the NHL’s Demise: How the NHL & its players hate hockey, and how the fan is at fault” by Mike Spry
• The Barnstormer’s Take Hockey Back fan protest event