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.
9:00AM — Well, that was humiliating. I crapped myself dry, missed an entire day, and now I’m sick as a Barrie puck bunny. I swear to God, some of the bunnies in these OHL cities look like extras from The Walking Dead. When we played in London, I used to throw on a condom while I was on the ice, just to be careful. Syphilis is like the common cold in London. Those girls’ll give you an STD just looking at you.
9:15AM — Sweated through my sheets, woke up in a pool of me. Woke up about an hour ago, and the suite looked like the detox scene in Trainspotting. So happy I got a room at the Meliá Genova instead of renting some apartment or living with someone’s aunt. Tipped the sweet little chambermaids a grand each for the cleanup job they had to do. Would’ve asked one of them for a quick release if I didn’t look and feel like a half-dead crack addict. Gonna spend the day barricaded in the room ordering room service and trying not to die. I hope this Italian flat screen has some Streep good to go. We’re going Streeping!
10:33AM — Hadn’t checked my text messages or email since the sickness took over. Couple from Dad, with links to entry level gigs and internships in the GTA. One from [name redacted] playing in the K. Says it’s fucked right up. Team is run by gangsters. Says he wants to head back home, but he’s afraid they won’t let him leave. Made a side bet about who would log more ice time with one of his Ruskie teammates, and when my boy won, the Russian paid him in cash. Ten large in cash. The stick boy brought it to him in a paper bag. There was still bits of blintzes in the bag. The rubles were greasy.
10:49AM — Crazy load of emails. About 80. Few from the PA telling me to hold tight, that this thing is a marathon, not a race, blah blah. Still think we’ll play games, but have no idea when. Got one from a buddy in Etobicoke, calling me a miserable cocksucker. Said he had to watch a movie with his wife last Saturday, and cuddle on the couch instead of hitting the pub and getting hammered watching the Leafs lose. Here’s how he signed off: “I swear on my kid’s left nut (the younger kid, not the one who likes wizards), if you fuckers aren’t on the ice by mid-November, I’mma gonna fly over to Europe of cut your fucking dick off. You ever watch these fucking Twilight movies? My wife is slowly turning me into a fucking 14-year-old girl, you fucking cack.”
11:03AM — Another buddy emailed me this: “I watched a fucking soccer game today, you fucking cunt. What’s worse is that I fucking DVR’d it. I hope you pricks choke on your fucking CBA.” I’m going to go ahead and guess that we’re not getting a lot of love from the fanbase.
1:18PM — Trying to catch up on the news, but not much going on. John Farrell’s a prick, and that’s about it.
5:27PM — Just watched The River Wild. Streep does action. Meryl fucking rocked it, took Kevin Bacon down. Man. Anyone know if Meryl’s married? I know she’s older, but I’d still take her for a go. I wonder if she digs hockey.
5:33PM — Woah. Just Wikipediaed Meryl. She’s 63, which is the same age as my mum. That ain’t cool. But get this, she’s got a daughter. Pretty much a dead ringer for a younger Meryl. Named, get this, Mamie Gummer! I’d let Mamie give me a gummer any day. Maybe see if I can get the agent to track her down. Some of the boys, especially those on the west coast, Anaheim and LA for sure, get their agents to call actresses and shit. Jarrett Stoll gets more Hollywood pussy than Leo DiCaprio, I tell you what.
5:42PM — Hehehe. Gummer.
7:11PM — Starting to feel a lot better. Had some solid food, and it made its way out solid. I may survive this thing. Plus, I probs lost about 7-12 pounds shitting, sweating, and puking the last 36 hours. This must be what it’s like to be a chick.
7:20PM — Where the fuck is Mario in all this? Mario’s as close to a player as the owners got. He could fix this thing quick.
7:37PM — When we were kids, you were either a Mario guy or a Gretz guy. I was a Mario guy, all the way. Gretz always seemed like a bit of a pansy to me. Met him a bunch. Weak handshake. Like a little girl tickling your palm.
8:01PM — Dad used to tell me stories of Mario in junior, how Laval had a kid whose job it was to keep Rothmans lit and going for Mario so he could smoke on the bench without taking his gloves off between shifts. I don’t know one guy who smokes anymore. Hell, most guys don’t even drink beer. It’s all Smirnoff Ices and shit. Fucking Patrick Kane is the worst. Kaner drinks the fruitiest, pinkest girl drinks you ever seen. You see all those pictures of him loaded with chicks, but when I’ve been around him, the girls all just laugh at him. What a fucking douche that kid is. Toews must wanna fucking cut him right in the mouth. Toewsy can’t stand that shit. Wouldn’t be surprised to see Kaner traded, if we have a season.
9:09PM — Woah. Feeling good. Could go down to the bar for a wee nip, but should probs take ‘er ease so that I can get out of the room tomorrow. Gonna order some late night pasta, maybe pop some of these pills that Sonja gave me, and watch me some Meryl. I have no idea what the pills are. Reminds me a little blue thing that [name redacted] gave in Calgary once, and I swear I could’ve scored 10 goals if God had blessed me with better hands. If they put testing in the new CBA, a lot of the boys are hooped. Adderall, Ritalin, all kinds a stuff. But this little bluie from Sonja. Woof. Makes me wanna dance and fuck. Can you say, Mamma Mia!?
9:11PM — Hehehe. Gummer.
- “Cheap Throat: The Diary of a Locked-Out NHLer“. Read all the other entries here.
- “A Fan’s Note: How to Fix the NHL” by Mike Spry
- “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