A little meander from our regularly- scheduled summer programming, since I forgot to turn off my Kberry alarm and I have been up since 5:30 -- ON A SATURDAY.
I could have rolled over and gone back to sleep, which was my intention, but since the Mad Kitty doesn't know from weekends, and the alarm woke her, too, all hope of two more hours until the sun in my eyes forced me out of bed was abandoned. (It's a good thing I never had kids, because ACS would have been a regular visitor due to my tendency to shove little animals aside, saying fretfully, "Get the fuck. OFF!")
Anyhoo -- perusing the usual round of hockey news to see the latest on the New Jersey Devils' "Yeah, we totally think Ilya Kovalchuk will be playing until he's 60" drama, er, contract negotiations, I was reminded that today is Sidney Crosby's birthday.
Yes, my favorite NHL capitaine has reached the ripe and gooey old age of 23.
Let's see, when I was 23, what had I accomplished? I had just moved to New York City, I was working for that horrible Austrian woman in that office full of horrible Germans, but I was on the verge of launching my illustrious advertising-magazine publishing-advertising-internet-environmental printing-advertising career. I was living in that "Bosom Buddy" women's residence over on the West Side and was about to make a whopping $22K a year, which for entry-level advertising in 1988 was a LOT.
And at 23, just what has this little skate-wearing pisher done? Well, let's see: one of the most-watched young players from the time he was about 13 (out on youtube there's a CBC profile of him from when he was 14 -- same boring and phlegmatic Sid, just with a higher voice and probably no pubic hair), first-round draft pick by a team owned by one of the legends of hockey, an $8 million a year contract with said team, the youngest team captain to ever lift the Stanley Cup (at age 21). And then scored the Gold Medal-winning goal for his country, IN his country 8 months later. Nahh, he's not so hot.
Well, okay, he's fucking awesome. I'll give him that.
Yeah, I'd say we're just about on the same trajectory.
So happy birthday, Sid!
Hockey fact to make you feel smart: Born on 8/7/87, wears number 87. Duh. Oh, and 18,087 seats in the new, LEED-approved Consol Center, aka The House That Sidney (and Mario) Built.
And I made it all the way to the end of this post without once mentioning... those lips. It just didn't seem right to talk about those lips in the same paragraph as a 14-year-old, though I did of course talk about pubic hair.
