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The road ahead goes on and on
The shit is gettin' longer than the mutherfuckin' marathon...
Dear Foppa:
After your stellar, inspiring, once-in-a-lifetime performance at the Pepsi Center last night, I came home and put on Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away” and settled in with a smooth glass of Merlot. I lit some candles and leafed through some late 90’s Avs’ media guides and thought of yesteryear.
We thank you for coming back to Our Fair Town, for getting off barely mentioning the Avs to penning columns, to live stand ins by your locker (it smells so delish), to full photos of those piercing blues on the web.
My gosh, Peter, we thought Paul Stasny was the Nuggets equipment manager before last night!
Now you have rekindled our relationship with you and your mates; we’ll even forget that you left to join some other team, or some other league, or wherever it is you were. We’ll forget the numerous injuries and missed time; we couldn’t be mad at you with that scruffy beard!
Your team, we hear, was mired out of the playoff race until recently, but now with you back in the fold, we can fully expect another grand parade down 17th street where you look like a conquering Nordic warrior perched on top on a magnificent steed known as a DFD truck.
We’ll be here now, Peter…
Love always,
The Denver Media
Labels: Avalanche
2 Comments:
Dear Peter,
Thanks for saving my job.
Coach Q
Dear Coach Q,
I love your mustache
Mangum PI
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