“I’m sorry, did you say Nashville?” “You got your wish. You’ve been traded. I wouldn’t be picky if I were you.” Fuck you, asshole. My brain at least had the common sense to not say that, but it was difficult not to. Vincent Drysdale was a ruthless general manager and all-around douchebag. He swore there was only one hockey team that mattered in the NHL and that was Boston. Boston was a great team, but it wasn’t the right fit for me or my style of play. I was stuck as second best on a team of old hats who had been groomed specifically for his club and the way he wanted to see hockey played. I
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