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I’m going to take the time this gloomy, windy Sunday afternoon in “wild Western New York” to write thank you notes while watching the Bills game, as well as write a few needed letters to deserving ones across the NHL.
I don’t know what has gotten into you, but it has got to stop. I mean, it’s bad enough that you didn’t score on Monday for my birthday, but then you completely forgot to get me a present either for my 20th or Christmas, you don’t make up for it against Washington, and then you play as terribly as you did last night to top it off? Puh-lease. Derek, I don’t know what to do about you. I figured when Kim saw you across the street from the mall on Tuesday that you were, for sure, going shopping for me, but I guess you were just indulging yourself. But just let me say this: If I find out that you were eating lots and lots of Christmas cookies and turkey, instead of tofu brownies and tofurkey, you’re in trouble Mister. And truly, if you refuse to shoot the puck–especially on a two-on-one–on Tuesday, I’m breaking up with you again. And believe me, I’ll do it.
So I see you’re now on the third line… That upsets me. Not because you’re on the third line due to injury, but because you’re hurt. And it’s obvious. You weren’t taking strides if it wasn’t necessary, and you don’t seem to have that burst of intensity that you had a couple weeks ago. I’ll make you some cookies and leave them on your doorstep. Maybe that will help. But, on second thought, Ashley might not appreciate some random girl baking cookies for her man. I’ll leave that up to her, then. But seriously, though, get well soon, Tommy. The Sabres need Atlas.
To Paul and Patty K:
I saw you two last night. Paul, you looked positively smashing in your black suit. Very nice. But Pat? What was with the beanie? I mean, I know that it’s cold in the arena, and yeah, you looked cute, but still… It kind of defeats the purpose of wearing a suit and tie if you’re going to put a winter hat on indoors. Whatever, though. I still enjoyed knowing that you were sitting directly behind me.
Hoping for you speedy return, Cari
Dear Portland Pirates,
I apologize that the Sabres’ injury woes have hurt your position in the standings. Because once we took Mark Mancari from you, I believe in his absence, you only won two games. Sorry. And to make it worse, we now have Nate and Tim, which is only making a difficult situation worse.
Again, sorry. ❤ Cari
To Timmy C, I love and miss you. What’s happening? Are you still hurt? Are you dead? Have you taken up residence in Childrens’ Hospital, drawing with the children? Because that would be cute. But you could also have taken up residence at the bar at SoHo, drowning your sorrows in bottles of Skyy Vodka or Southern Comfort, and then going home with a different girl each night to disguise the pain… But I’d like to think of you as a really good human being, so I’m going to believe the former. Yeah.
To Timmy K, YAYYY!! I was so excited to read, as Kim pulled into my driveway last night, that you had been called up! And then you were in the starting lineup? Ahhhhh-mazing! I’m so proud of you, Shirley Temple! You played well last night, so we’ll see how the rest of your stay with the Sabes goes.
You’re an asshole.
Dear Jay McKee,
I hope your finger can be saved. I don’t like to think of amputations, in general, but especially not when they jeopardize the career of one of my all-time favorite hockey players, let alone Sabres. I just can’t imagine a McKee-less NHL. And I don’t want to see it anytime soon.
Best wishes, Cari
Maybe breaking your foot will teach you to not block shots from your teammates. I’ll miss you, Bedroom Eyes.
To all hockey players,
I had other letters to write, but I just can’t remember them at the moment. I keep getting distracted by the sounds of tree branches snapping and the Bills game. So I’m going to go watch the game, and I’ll come back, possibly with a few more letters, tomorrow. Love…