Alright. So I have one of these running over on IGN, but I lack the ability to post pictures and such, and was directed here. I figure it's a good call. The stories will be the same, so you should only have to check here if you've got any interest. The only difference should be the markup.
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Brendan Gordon entered what had been his home for the past few years. Playing next to the Trailblazers in the Rose Garden, Gordon's WHL championship winning Portland Winterhawks said their goodbyes today at the Rose Quarter. Gordon, at the age of 19, would not be playing for another year with the team that had become so loved in the city, and would soon enter the NHL entry draft. Hands were shook, hugs were given, and every personal contact number was made public to the leaving players.
"If you ever, ever need a place to stay when you visit, hit me up," said the soon to be starting goaltender, Kurtis Mucha (moo-KAH). Mucha and Gordon had become closer to brothers than any of the four that Kurtis lived with.
Nodding, Gordon departed after one last, long handshake round with his coaches. He had left his car with the Muchas, so he paid $2.00 for the bus fare and headed towards the airport. Lugging his favored Nike Bauer Supremes down the bus aisle, he picked an open row of seating and stashed his gear. He thumbed through a few papers he needed to make the necessary flights, and sat back thinking about what the scouts had said.
(Gordon's positional play makes up for his average speed and athleticism. Posted impressive numbers in the WHL, obviously numbers good enough to take his team through the playoffs. Gordon is a diamond in the rough, and will likely be drafted in the second or third round.)
'Not bad', he thought, 'not bad at all.'
=======Two days later========
Gordon had made it to the scouting combine, but encountered a pretty big hitch. The Supremes he had played with for the past two years were lost in the baggage transfer. Unable to find them anywhere, he had been compensated for them in full by a very apologetic clerk. Gordon made his way to the nearest ATM and withdrew another large chunk of change, and hit every store he could find selling hockey gear. He settled, finally, on a pair of blue and white one95's, but was upset about the loss of his beloved pads.
As any goalie would know, playing in pads that haven't been broken in is not a particularly enjoyable experience. Being a goalie, he knew that fact very, very well. He made his way to the official lodging of the rookies to be, but his bad mood seemed evident to all the others, and he wasn't making too many friends.
======Fast forward past the scouting========
He hadn't performed well, and he knew it. Bad equipment made a small difference, but he had been overwhelmed. His potential second pick rating felt as if it had gone down to a fourth round. He gained some ground at the end of the combine's tests, even stopping all 18 shots he faced in a scrimmage, but the damage had been done.
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Brendan Gordon entered what had been his home for the past few years. Playing next to the Trailblazers in the Rose Garden, Gordon's WHL championship winning Portland Winterhawks said their goodbyes today at the Rose Quarter. Gordon, at the age of 19, would not be playing for another year with the team that had become so loved in the city, and would soon enter the NHL entry draft. Hands were shook, hugs were given, and every personal contact number was made public to the leaving players.
"If you ever, ever need a place to stay when you visit, hit me up," said the soon to be starting goaltender, Kurtis Mucha (moo-KAH). Mucha and Gordon had become closer to brothers than any of the four that Kurtis lived with.
Nodding, Gordon departed after one last, long handshake round with his coaches. He had left his car with the Muchas, so he paid $2.00 for the bus fare and headed towards the airport. Lugging his favored Nike Bauer Supremes down the bus aisle, he picked an open row of seating and stashed his gear. He thumbed through a few papers he needed to make the necessary flights, and sat back thinking about what the scouts had said.
(Gordon's positional play makes up for his average speed and athleticism. Posted impressive numbers in the WHL, obviously numbers good enough to take his team through the playoffs. Gordon is a diamond in the rough, and will likely be drafted in the second or third round.)
'Not bad', he thought, 'not bad at all.'
=======Two days later========
Gordon had made it to the scouting combine, but encountered a pretty big hitch. The Supremes he had played with for the past two years were lost in the baggage transfer. Unable to find them anywhere, he had been compensated for them in full by a very apologetic clerk. Gordon made his way to the nearest ATM and withdrew another large chunk of change, and hit every store he could find selling hockey gear. He settled, finally, on a pair of blue and white one95's, but was upset about the loss of his beloved pads.
As any goalie would know, playing in pads that haven't been broken in is not a particularly enjoyable experience. Being a goalie, he knew that fact very, very well. He made his way to the official lodging of the rookies to be, but his bad mood seemed evident to all the others, and he wasn't making too many friends.
======Fast forward past the scouting========
He hadn't performed well, and he knew it. Bad equipment made a small difference, but he had been overwhelmed. His potential second pick rating felt as if it had gone down to a fourth round. He gained some ground at the end of the combine's tests, even stopping all 18 shots he faced in a scrimmage, but the damage had been done.
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