NHL 36
Henrik Lundqvist - Sun, Oct 3 - Hour 1, Part 1
11 AM
Henrik Lundqvist was a little nervous about the upcoming NHL season, he had to admit. He thought back to practice yesterday, and the amount of shots that his defense had let through to him. He had injured his wrist minorly, but the trainers had taped it up, and it was good as new in no time... Or so he thought.
He glanced down at the big, pink mess that he was supposed to stop pucks with the next night. His hand was twice its normal size, and he couldn't move it. It looked broken at the wrist, but he knew that wasn't the case. He would have known much sooner if it was broken. There was something going on that the trainers had overlooked. Something big.
He sighed, and shifted the ice that he had left on the swelling. He had a contraption that the equipment manager had given him, which allowed him to walk around, while having the ice strapped to his wrist.
His phone rang, and he picked it up.
"Hello?" He said.
He sounded old, tired, and beat up. Not exactly the image of your dream goalie a day before the season starts.
"Henrik?" The male voice on the other line questioned.
"Hey." Henrik answered.
The man on the phone, was one of the Rangers trainers, and he was calling to check on the wrist injury.
"Yeah, it hasn't gotten any better..." Henrik informed him.
He arranged that the trainer come and pick him up at his house, and drive him to MSG, where they would take a look at the injury, and try to fix it.
"Thanks bud. Henrik said, as he hung up.
He put the phone down, and collapsed on his couch. He was tired, and the puck drop was 24 and a half hours away.
He groaned as he looked at the schedule, and realized that the Rangers would also need to catch an early flight to Tampa Bay on their private jet the next morning.
He relaxed, and before he knew it, he was asleep on the couch.
Henrik Lundqvist was a little nervous about the upcoming NHL season, he had to admit. He thought back to practice yesterday, and the amount of shots that his defense had let through to him. He had injured his wrist minorly, but the trainers had taped it up, and it was good as new in no time... Or so he thought.
He glanced down at the big, pink mess that he was supposed to stop pucks with the next night. His hand was twice its normal size, and he couldn't move it. It looked broken at the wrist, but he knew that wasn't the case. He would have known much sooner if it was broken. There was something going on that the trainers had overlooked. Something big.
He sighed, and shifted the ice that he had left on the swelling. He had a contraption that the equipment manager had given him, which allowed him to walk around, while having the ice strapped to his wrist.
His phone rang, and he picked it up.
"Hello?" He said.
He sounded old, tired, and beat up. Not exactly the image of your dream goalie a day before the season starts.
"Henrik?" The male voice on the other line questioned.
"Hey." Henrik answered.
The man on the phone, was one of the Rangers trainers, and he was calling to check on the wrist injury.
"Yeah, it hasn't gotten any better..." Henrik informed him.
He arranged that the trainer come and pick him up at his house, and drive him to MSG, where they would take a look at the injury, and try to fix it.
"Thanks bud. Henrik said, as he hung up.
He put the phone down, and collapsed on his couch. He was tired, and the puck drop was 24 and a half hours away.
He groaned as he looked at the schedule, and realized that the Rangers would also need to catch an early flight to Tampa Bay on their private jet the next morning.
He relaxed, and before he knew it, he was asleep on the couch.
Awesome! I will continue to make it!
6/14/13