Just Because You Can, Doesn’t Mean You Should
Most folks are looking at this latest Patrick Kane incident the wrong way. I’ll try to summarize. Should he be able to live his life? Should he be able to chase every bit of tail in Chicago? Should he be able to drink himself to the ER, get into fights, stiff the cabbie, or strip naked in a limo?
It doesn’t matter. That’s not the point. And as long as he’s an NHL superstar, the point is this: he’s being a fucking idiot and putting his CAREER at risk by doing this shit. Furthermore, he’s risking disappointing Blackhawks fans who expect him to be with the team for another 4 years. Let me explain.
Let’s say Twinkie McBoobjob comes on to Kaner at a bar, makes it known that there’s a vacancy between her legs, and he invites her back to his place. What Kane doesn’t know (and what he has NO POSSIBLE WAY of knowing) is that there’s a Pavel Datsyuk jersey hanging in Twinkie’s closet at home, and she’s just been released from a mental ward. Then late that night after the Englebert Humperdinck CD had ended… He has two achilles tendons, she has a nine-inch hunting knife. Career = over.
This latest incident is exactly what I’m talking about. All this little bimbo did was snap some pictures. The list of what she could have done to the 6-million-dollar man while he was snoring away with a sticky schnitzel is too scary to mention. And did Kaner think of any of this while he was bumpin’ and squirtin’ with Chicago’s most famous Hockey Ho? Not a chance.
Cavorting around like this may be a blast, and yes, he has every right to. But there’s a lesson that some people never learn in their entire lives, and it goes a little like this: just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Somebody needs to smack this boy upside the head and try to let him know exactly how bad he’s screwing up. The name Theo Fleury comes to mind.
But if I were Stan Bowman, I would have the kid and his agent in for a little chat. The phrase “breach of contract” would be used. I’d also put Kane on the buddy system for his travels around town— whether he liked it or not, shit: whether he knew about it or not! If I had invested that kind of money in a 22-year-old kid, he would not be pissing it away on some skeezy bar trash.
Plus, Stan would really just be protecting Kaner from himself. Honestly, we’ve seen the kid in interviews, we know what his level of intellect is. I’d be surprised if he could find his own ass with two hands and a flashlight. It’s not like he’s got a career as a rocket scientist after his NHL days are over. He’d better have a good accountant now, because nobody’s going to be asking for his resume once he hangs ’em up. The longer he can skate, the better chance he’s not going to end up hocking that Stanley Cup ring later in life to keep the F-150 from getting repossessed.
So Kaner, here’s some unsolicited advice from somebody old enough to be your father: keep it in your pants unless you’ve known the girl for at least a month; be more careful about your choice of evening companionship; put your career ahead of your Johnson for the next 15 years; and go easy on the suds, kid. You’ve got the whole rest of your life to get hammered and wallpaper the closet. Next time you get horny, look at your bank account.
That would make me hose down half the room right there…
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