“we are sun and moon, dear friend; we are sea and land. it is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is: each the other’s opposite and complement.”
talked to a retired Detroit firefighter whose kids went to the same school as Steve Yzerman's and he reports the man to be "fucking so tiny! just a little, small man! they say he's, what, 5'10, but I'll be damned if he's an inch above 5'7, and he was STILL able to do all that!"
I’ve been rereading your story. I think it’s about me in a way that might not be flattering, but that’s okay. We dream and dream of being seen as we really are and then finally someone looks at us and sees us truly and we fail to measure up. Anyway: story received, story included. You looked at me long enough to see something mysterioso under all the gruff and bluster. Thanks. Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.
Canadian professional hockey Steve Yzerman, center for the Detroit Red Wings, poses holding an open book about Canadian hockey player Gordie Howe, January 1984.
He didn’t know what he was doing when he first moved here, a boy with a half-healed knee and obscene amounts of money he’d earned from an ex-passion, with no current passions to spend it on. He would mumble that the frontier called him when he was asked why the hell he was driving a shop-clean truck up and down the Parks over and over; he’d get laughed off, called McCandless after the kid who died and got written about like a hero in that Outside article. Eventually he’d stumbled into a kennel in Talkeetna and been given real work. Learned how not to act like such a fucking idiot outsider all the time. Shoveled dog shit until they let him ride the sled as penance, and then the hot blood of hockey and ice and competition crashed down into him all at once and he needed, needed to do this.
every few months i get a little crayzay about the russian five. and. this past addictive streak has been since jan, yet i dont have much to show fer it...
“my buddy steve and i are sharing a cab to the rink… your girl’s got the rizz”. (also yzerman promising to let her ebug for the other team if ever needed). i need lexi to record an audiobook of all her encounters with hockeys