Tom Scharpling continues his quest to get into the NHL, even though his beloved NBA is back and kicking. Today: the need to pick a team, the lure of tradition, and an upcoming field trip.
Tom Scharpling knows next to nothing about the NHL. It’s not from any active dislike for the game. He's not opposed to it the way I am opposed to college basketball—any sport that allows a prime douche like Steve Wojciechowski to impact one minute of one game is not a sport for Tom—but hockey is a mystery that he'd never honestly tried to unravel. Until a misspelled vanity license plate convinced him it was time to be a hero.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Not at all. My first piece for The Classical should’ve been about something like The Rise Of Monta Ellis instead of a mewling whine-fest about The Seemingly Permanent Absence Of My Favorite Sport That I Am Now On The Hook To Write About Because You Guys Gave Us A Lot Of Money To Start This Site. But I’m not the one locking out the players, so this is where I’m living right now.