Met a hockey player.... funny, but LONG story:
First off, know that my real name is Ravi. That is an important piece of information. This is VERY long, but VERY interesting, and is always a fun story to tell.
It was the summer of '07. I was working my first job... a level three support specialist for the City of Toronto. I was 18 at the time... relatively young, naive, and full of potential. It was July (or august, cant really remember) and I had broken my hand two weeks prior to the meetup. Since I could not play hockey, I thought it was a prime opportunity to take some of my equipment in for repair. I asked my boss to get off of work 2hrs early to take my hockey gloves in for repalming. He was cool (and loved the game) so he naturally agreed.
When I arrived at the proshop, there was a gigantic lineup that coiled through the shop and spilled out the door. I cut the line and went inside, taking my equipment to the repair area. I requested the glove repair and paid my $60. They told me that I would have a three hour wait to get them back. Curious, I asked them what the lineup was about. They informed me that Joe Thornton, one of the world's best hockey players and captain of the San Jose Sharks had an autograph session starting in 20 minutes. I had to wait to get my equipment back anyways, so I decided to hop in the line.
At first the lineup wasn't so bad, but I've learned that autograph sessions bring out some very WEIRD people. What's worse is that there's a group of "regulars", who all seem to recognize each other from previous autograph sessions. They were all talking about their hockey cards and previous autograph sessions, while I stood in line in my snazzy work dress. I ended up chatting it up with a girl in front of me (she was 23 or so). It was obvious after about five minutes that this girl was a giant puckbunny... she knew nothing about the sport, but had an obsession with the athletes (at least the good looking ones). She asked me how I broke my hand, and I told her that it happened playing hockey. At this point, I knew she'd never shut up. Oh well, three hours of talking to her might not be so bad.
Then the rain came in. It POURED outside. It was otherwise a very sunny summer day, so I naturally had no jacket with me. I was stuck outside as the rain poured and poured and poured. People around me had the same problem, but kept their cheer up. For those of you who haven't broken bones before.... know that plaster and water don't mix very well. I spent about 30 minutes outside before the line moved far up enough to get me inside. My cast was ruined. I knew that my doctor would yell at me. I knew that I'd have to pay to get a new fibreglass cast again. But this was one of my hockey heroes and I had come this far, so I *had* to get his autograph.
At this point, my hand was KILLING me. The lack of support my cast provided was horrendously irritating. I simply bit my lip and persevered, while the ugly puckbunny in front of me continued to talk me to death. Not once did she ask how my hand was.
Finally, after about three hours of waiting (2 of which were in the rain) the moment arrived. I finally got up to Joe Thornton and shook his hand with my soggy, soft plaster cast. My plan was to initially have him sign it for me, but the water damage made that impossible. I donated $20 for the hat/8x11 print combination. He smiled as both him and his limo driver cracked jokes about my predicament. He signed the autograph, agreed to the one picture we were entitled to, and sent me on my way. In a mix of both excitement and pain, I stuffed the signed print in my bag, picked up my repaired gear, threw the hat on my head, and caught the next bus to the hospital.
Canadian health care is free*, but slow. After about three hours at the hospital in wet clothing (one of the receptionists was nice enough to give me a towel) I called my folks to pick me up from the hospital, and explained the situation. They were less than thrilled. I got home and opened up my bag. The giant grin soon turned to horror on my face as I looked at the address on the 8x11:
"To Razi:
All my best!
*signature"
Words could barely describe the rage I felt. I waited TWO HOURS in the RAIN, damaging my cast and enduring an annoying puckbunny/ridiculous pain for you to get my FOUR LETTER NAME WRONG?!?!?!?!?!
Needless to say, I've been bitter about the experience ever since. I have not been to an autograph signing since then, and I am no longer a fan of Joe Thornton.
tl;dr version:
, I don't know if that counts though.
