I may be high off of Tylenol 3, morphine, and subsisting on apple juice for the past five days, but the news that Sidney’s high-ankle sprain from Friday’s game is going to force Crosby to miss the next six to eight weeks has managed to pierce through the haze of drugs and glucose and has caused me to just ache.
This is the first time our little superstar has been hurt, and my urge to twirl him in bubble wrap and Band-Aids is overwhelming. Maybe retro-fit the boards with something softer, like cotton candy from the nice old man on the main concourse or penguin plushies from Penstation. Perhaps stop by Casa Lemieux with some soup, cookies, Yahtzee, and the box set of Futurama to help keep his mind off the pain.
It’s already helping me. Immensely.