Game in, game out, year in, year out, just a kid cruising the ice looking to cause trouble - a wicked wristshot for a goal, a crushing bodycheck, a fight - opponents' bodies littered on the ice, fans out of their seats, the place in an uproar, and Wendel, no expression on his face, looking around wondering what the commotion was about.
I've always thought of the sky as, like, an open canvas. When I was a kid and I looked at the sky, I always remember being able to daydream, just looking at the sky, being creative, being able to design things. What would happen if we had no sky? Where would we be? Well, obviously, scientifically, without an atmosphere, we'd all be dead.