NEW: Bussin' With the Boys Dad Merch CollectionSHOP NOW

Advertisement

The Blackhawks Had The Chiclets Boys Shoot Pucks From Center Ice Between Periods; Me And Biz Sniped But #WhitMissed

Advertisement

Holy shit, what a night.

First off, Spittin’ Chiclets wants to send a huge “THANK YOU” to Rocky Wirtz, Danny Wirtz, Stan Bowman, and the entire Chicago Blackhawks organization for the amazing hospitality and generosity, which is first class all the way. They’ve been great to the fellas for awhile now but Thursday night was pretty special. Mostly because me and Biz scored and the only biggest shit-talker of us all didn’t.

Also thanks to the many bootleggers we hung out with in the box that have been spreading the Pink Whitney all over the Midwest and beyond. I’d try to name them all but it’d just be another Seattle name situation.

After the 2nd period, we had The Main Event.

I went first.

Boom. Snipe from center ice. I never want to see a guy miss an ENG and cost me the puck line ever again. Unlike Biz, I didn’t have a celly planned three weeks ago. Or even three seconds ago. Because I definitely wasn’t planning on the tuck.

Advertisement

I went up with one intention: don’t come up short. If I ice it, fuck it. But don’t let it die in the slot. I went out thinking Sakic and just wrist it. But I ended up snapping it at last second. First shot goes wide but hits the back boards and I’m happy I at least got the dump-in.

I made zero adjustment for shot two. Just snapped it straight this time. I was watching it go, thinking “no fucking way!”. Right through the mouse hole. Chaos. I don’t even remember Biz trying to cup check me and just did that thing when a guy hits a game-winning three then runs from his teammates because even he can’t believe he hit the shot (sick league).

Next up, the shit-talkin’, vodka-hawkin’ Whitdog.

Tape-to-tape my arse, Whit.

And then Teddy Ruxpin was up.

Biz fucking nails it.

Advertisement

And crushes the celly like he crushes life.

Onto the Winners’ Circle.

Advertisement

Suck on that, Whit.

What a thrill, what a night.

I’ll have a blog recapping the week as soon as my hands stop shaking after a week in Chicago.