First off, by Kari, I mean you Mr. Lehtonen. As much as I'd love to be writing a letter to Kari Byron, I don't think the restraining order allows for such things. Now that we've established that you have to pay attention, let's get down to business shall we? I'm going to be direct and decisive here and hope that your grasp on the English language allows you to follow along: STOP GETTING FUCKING HURT! You see, I applaud you for not shredding your groin into 12 strands of spaghetti each week liek you did in Atlanta, so I suppose that is a great improvement. Sadly, the fact remains that you keep tweaking portions of your back and these tweaks have me greatly concerned. As much as I love watching Andrew Raycroft flop to the ice merely minutes before the puck is actually shot at him in order to make a valiant attempt at a save, I'd much rather have someone in net that has more poise and promise than a Vesa Toskala-in-training. True, Mr. Raycroft has received more goaltending hardware than you, but that was also back in the days when players had to get off season jobs to pay the bills and every
|Yes Andrew, you actually let in that many.|
I know you didn't think it was a huge deal when you decided a little extra rest might do your body good (Trademark - US cow milkers). I mean at the time Raycroft was one of the hottest backups in the NHL. He shutout the Sabres, he beat the best team in the NHL, and he had another win or honorary mention at making super easy glove saves look like ESPN Top 10 worthy material or something like that thrown in there. Unfortunately, that's when Raycroft suddenly snapped back to reality, much like many wrist shots were snapped by his prone body into the back of the net. I think we both now realize that the current fan/goaltender relationship just isn't going to work. So I need you to say your prayers and take your vitamins so you can be 100% and soon.
In conclusion, get better so that one day I might go on a well respected podcast and man crush all over you, like I did to the guy whose name is spelled eerily similar to yours, the day that you retire.
P.S. Seriously, go visit the podcast link. I said like two nice things about you.
As always, feel free to leave your comments, hate mail, and future letter recipients, or just stalk me on Twitter , because what better things do you have to do while at work?