Thursday, May 5, 2011

Hmm. I have not blogged since I left Alaska almost 10 months ago. My narcissismometer must have been running on low.
Let's rectify that, shall we?
Let's talk about:

Yes, I know, he looks more than a little like the creepy neighbor to whom you gave a wide berth every Halloween of your childhood. I agree that there's something "Larry, Darryl, and my other brother Darryl" about him. (10 points if you're old enough to remember what that's from.)

But don't hate on the guy because he looks a little car-up-on-blocks-in-the-front-yard (he's actually probably better than you at very many things. And he could probably lift that car off you with his bare hands). And don't hate on him because he's named Dwayne...which is also a little Deliverance. Dwayne here, who would be doing himself a giant favor if he lost the mullet in the off-season, is the ridiculously hot goalie for the Tampa Bay Lighting. And I mean "hot" in a sportscaster sense, not hot in a "I'm-Trish-the-Dish-in-section-119-who-sits-above-the-visiting-player-runway-and-doesn't-wear-panties" sort of way (Not kidding. She exists, or existed. She's probably a little, erm, "rode-hard-put-away-wet' looking by now. And women like her are the reason, my friends, why it's difficult for women like me to get ahead in sports. BUT I DIGRESS...). He has a playoff save percentage of, I don't know, .9999938 or something and a goals against average of, I don't know, 0.0000038 or something, and:


Holla if you're relieved there's SOMEONE older than you are still playing professional sports.

Because I'm a lazy git who suffers severely from attention deficit disorder while at work, which leads me to spend hours googling random goalie trivia, different variations of the Luxor games, and html codes for strikethrough curious sort of person by nature, I thought I'd look into exactly what allows Roli to play at what Glenn Healy on HNIC has assured us is "such an advanced age." And excuse me for a moment, Glenn, while I get my trifocals so I can continue typing. (HEALY'S 49! HE SHOULD TALK - ed.) (And while talking former Islander goalies/current on-air talent on HNIC, Hrudey's 50 and a better commentator, but ever since the day 12-year-old me chased 22-year-old Kelly Hrudey across the Cantiague Park parking lot to get his autograph, I have thought that he too really needs to get a better handle on his hair. -CAM)

Anyway, according to USA Today, Roloson (1) has a trainer named Prohaska. Ok, check, I have a trainer named Nowicki. Prohaska - Nowicki, both tough sounding names. Roloson (2) "calls his trainer to ask him what he can do to work out when he's on vacation at the beach with his family." Hey, catch this, people: I'm going to Orlando on business tomorrow and -- wait for it -- I'M BRINGING MY SNEAKERS. So I'm gonna give myself another check. Roloson (3) "never misses a workout. He never misses a stretching session. He shows up for extra workouts. He is so consistent with his eating and so consistent with his training that it has paid off in his later years."

Holla if you just put down the Ring Ding you were eating while reading (or typing, as the case may be) this. And then shrugged and picked it up again because you figured it was too late in these "later years" to start being consistent with your eating and training.

But seriously folks...this is kind of inspiring stuff, isn't it? Roli for AARP President. Roli for A Million Fans on Facebook. At least Roli for Masterton, no? Maybe as I slug through another day arguing with myself about whether my ever-expanding middle-aged butt needs that gazillion calorie Starbucks non-coffee coffee or whether I'm going to go to the gym after work or head straight home to sit on the couch and watch Top Chef, or whether I really ever will land my Axel again at forty, I should just take a second and think about the work ethic of a guy who nobody even thought was good enough to DRAFT to play in the NHL but is now putting on quite a show at an age when most of his "betters" are long retired. Then perhaps I should put the designer coffee down and the treadmill speed up.

Now please, Roli, don't throw your back out or anything.

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