Goalie for the Gotham Guardians of New York City.
And he’s hot as puck.
And more importantly he’s signing autographs the day before the start of the National Hockey Legion season today at Madison Square Garden, or The Garden as it’s known, in Manhattan starting in ten minutes.
I’m practically running through Times Square to make it the last half mile to The Garden when I suddenly stop, take a step back and see him plastered on a sixty-foot tall billboard…in his underwear.
I close my eyes as I execute the sign of the cross by touching my hand sequentially to my forehead, lower chest, and then both shoulders.
Because hockey is my religion and Henrik Magnusson is my god.
The six foot three inch nearly two hundred twenty pounds of U.S.D.A. choice grade A American male beef.
Except he’s not even American, despite being “The King of New York” as he’s known in hockey circles.
I pick up my pace, hurrying to The Garden as I dodge tourists and taxis.
“Watch where you’re going, lady!” one cab driver yells as he honks his horn and slams on the breaks as I dart through 7th Avenue realizing that with traffic moving as slowly as it is it’s faster to just high tail it on the street than use the sidewalk.
I’m already breathing hard just from the speed walking…I can’t imagine how my heart is going to pound when I lay eyes on the Swedish heartthrob.
I can barely think as it is right now, but I know when I see him I won’t even be able to speak.
Which is probably a good thing. What will I tell him?
“Hey, so I have two entire scrapbooks full of newspaper clippings of your big wins. Oh, and I even found a shop in one of the boroughs that sells Swedish newspapers and bought up a couple of copies of those too. Oh, and my brother saw how addicted I was to your games when I was just a kid and then he decided to pick up the sport as well…so you’re pretty much dominating my entire family right now.”
Yeah, that would go over really well…right before the cops would come over and put me in a straight jacket most likely.
But as inspiring as it is that he is the reason my brother picked up a stick for the first time and how much it’s changed his life, what I’m thinking about right now is how much I want to pick up his stick and change my life.
But there’s no way. Absolutely no way.
He’s on the cover of all the hottest bachelor magazine not to mention he’s rich, famous, and has an incredible accent and is literally a male model as well. How lucky can one man get?
And speaking of luck I’d have a better chance of winning the Powerball every month for the next year than I would getting anything more from him than a handshake and a picture…about five seconds of his time before he enters the players only tunnel of The Garden to work on his butterfly style of goaltending the day before the Guardians’ first game.
And it’s it ironic that he made the butterfly style of goaltending so famous. The way he guards the lower part of the net by dropping to his knees as he blocks attempts to score.
Well he sure wouldn’t have that problem with me.
I’d gladly drop to my knees or lie on my back and spread my legs like a butterfly and let him score all night long
Wishful thinking at best.
And it was wishful to think any of my friends would come with me today to support me.
My friends jokingly call me Hazel Puddy, after the Seinfeld character David Puddy…the guy who painted his face to go to hockey games and was a little bit awkward to put it nicely. At least I hope they’re joking, but I’m not sure they would be once they found out I paint my face too…to watch games in my studio apartment.
And just as David was Elaine’s on and off boyfriend, constantly breaking up with her, my friend’s are constantly telling me we need some space too.
And space is what they recommended I give Henrik when I see him today.
But I’m not crazy. Really. I’ve just found the one thing in the world that I truly enjoy and that’s hockey.
And the best in the world at it is him, so of course I’m going to be drawn to him.
But I know there’s no chance anything will ever happen between us, no matter how much I fantasize about it at night…or during the day…or when I dream…or first thing in the morning…or…