an open letter to the fans in t3
to those in attendance at the gulls game last night who happened to be sitting in terrace 3: i'm sorry if i hit you with my chuck a puck. especially since you were behind me. i do know that the goal of chuck-a-puck is to get the little orange foam puck on the ice, preferrably onto the target on the ice. i also realize that you all figured you were pretty safe since the ice was in front of me and that's where the puck belonged, and you were behind me where the puck didn't belong.

i won't make excuses. i won't try to justify my horrific throw to the fact that the puck got stuck in my fingers at the point of release, or that i was under a lot of pressure to perform, or that i seriously lack long-distance hand-eye coordination. but i will say this: take comfort, your justice will be done, because believe me, there are people who will never let me live this down. like, EV-ER.
current mood: gomen ne sorry!!