so yesterday, jeremy roenick and anson carter were in my office. well, not MY office but my company's offices.

let me further detail the situation.

JR is from boston. he and a few other players are about my age. and all prep school going, cape summering, beanpot playing kinda guys. they drink at the chatham squire in the off season and still call the cape home sometimes. i love these guys.

one in particular is my favorite - craig janney. he actually retired a while ago. it is my humble opinion that he was never as good as when he played for the bruins with cam neely and bob joyce.

anyway. i like JR. he played in phoenix when i lived there. he's a good player.

but anson carter. let me say. RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

i love me some anson carter.

and they were both here. in our offices. and was i allowed to speak to them? NO. their NHL handlers said no. no talking to the talent.

so i couldn't tell JR that i am the only person on the planet with a personalized craig janney phoenix coyotes jersey. or tell him how he told me he was the next wayne gretzsky when he was 14. or tell him i'll see him at the squire.

and i couldn't tell anson carter that i would leave my husband and move to edmonton for him.

all i could do was stand in our lobby and look pregnant and stare longinly at them.

AND the team who gets to talk to them? who gets to have dinner with them? who gets to hang out all day?

none of them knew who either player was until this project happened.

feh. feh. and triple feh.

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