Speaking of public school, the first two people who ever beat me up (well, apart from my brothers) were a couple of cousins from the Trottier family on the other side of town. We were all about the same age, around 8. And we had all watched enough television, so it looked like a solid beating but it didn’t really hurt me much. (That’s another thing I like to defend, television. Maybe it’s not as important as post-secondary education, but still.)
Anyway, it occurred to me at the time that if any of their cousins were able to combine this familial elegance at choreographing violence with a natural skating ability they would do very well in theNHL.
Those of you who follow hockey will realize this has turned out to be the case.
I didn’t try to run away from the Trottiers. I am not a fast runner. It is a family trait from generations back. I always figured it was a useful survival trait. When the call to Attack occurred in battle and we Spykers were found at the back of the pack, never managing to make it up to the fighting before all the swordplay and lance work was over, it might have saved us from execution. “But sir, ask anyone, we are renowned as slow runners sir. Maybe we have short legs sir.” And that would probably only happen the first war per generation too. For the second war it might be more. “Well, if you insist sir, I will stay back here and faithfully guard the women and the wine.