Getting My Ice Kicked

I have a feeling this will be me (pictured, in white, eating the boards) when I take the ice tonight.

For the first time in over a year, I will be lacing them up at the ol' rink. My former (and now, current) ice hockey team is renting out the Flyers Skate Zone this evening for a much-needed tune up. Our new season begins in September, and I plan to be there. I have been looking forward to this rent out for months now, but my problem is (as usual) me.

Despite what some may tell you, I am grossly overweight, out of playing shape, and not that great a player to begin with. I have a decent "hockey mind," but having ice smarts does no good when you can't avoid a check. If I don't post tomorrow, it's because I got the crud beaten out of me tonight. Of course, I shouldn't bore everyone with my impending misery without letting you guys make some money off me. So, here's tonight's odds (as they concern me) for all of you degenerate gamblers out there:

• I get an assist (this is actually likely): 5-1
• I lose a tooth (because I wear a face shield, not a full cage): 10-1
• I get injured in a freak accident (like tripping over my own skates): 10-1
• I break my nose (which can only help this face): 20-1
• I score a goal (yeah, that'll happen): 25-1
• I get run over and killed by the Zamboni (a la Eddie LeBec): 100-1
• I score a hat trick, and the fabulous babes in the stands fall in love with me: 1,000,000-1

Well, there you have it. Place your bets!