The commentator narrating the pupās moves with the ball is AMAZING and Iām crying
ā(ā¦) right, but he decides to kick the ball. He gets close, and who grabs it? The Friend(dog)! Yes! A pup got into the field. Heās tied to it. He puts it under his paws and shows what football was missing in the Gasometro (fieldās name). The [team]ās men want to grab him, but they cant! The Friend has his eyes on the ball. He runs to find it again. Yes! He bites! He kneads! He wants it close! He gets lost, heās so happy! Castro (player) wants to kick his Corner but he canāt. He tells the pup āenough, enough, go over thereā⦠however *commentator laughs*, thereās the pup! When he puts it on the floor, [the dog] goes again for the ball. And of course, as any skilled man, wants it all for himself. A bit of an over-eater, this pup. And he clearly has shown conditions / talent. [The team] found the way to the goal thanks to the Pichichoās (little dog) essential inputā¦. who, of course, as any protagonist had his place at [the tv show].ā
*camera switches to interview where dog barks and mounches on the reporterās mic (who allows him do it)*
Iāve been watching Argentinean football all my life and I can confirm this is the best to ever happen on a match.
I feel like so many of us have wanted to see professional athletes, especially Olympians,Ā āswap jobsā to see what skills would transfer. This is great because a diver and a gymnast teach each other the basics of their trade, and itās scientifically of interest, itās all for science, thereās nothing about fit men or accents, itās just, itās science, okay, itās sports, itās athleticism and science and
that dumb āRules of the World Cup for Womenā list made me livid and @sashayed had some good thoughts about it. I screencapped her tweetstorm so I can refer back to it when I feel anxious about my own way of caring about sports.
So last night, a real-life feel-good sports movie took place in Chicago. That fantasy that every small-town, amateur athlete/dancer/singer has? The one where the Big Star goes down, the coach/director/choreographer points at them and says YOUāRE GOING ON? That happened last night to a 36 year old accountant and beer-league goalie named Scott Foster, who, for 14 minutes, played goalie for the Chicago Blackhawks. Once upon a time, Foster had big time NHL dreams, like every kid who plays hockey. He got as far as the Western Ontario Hockey League, where he played two years as goalieā¦in 2005. Then he had to get real, give up his dreams of NHL stardom, and move on to a regular life. Last night, he got to live his dream.
Quick primer on NHL goalies: teams always dress two, a primary and a backup. Most teams have three or possibly four goalies in their own system, between the NHL club roster and the AHL club roster. But sometimes there is also whatās called an EBUG, an emergency back-up goalie, which is sort of a freelance all-purpose safety net provided by the home team and is available to either of the teams if they somehow lose both of their actual goalies. They are usually a local minor-league or amateur goalie. They bring their own equipment, sometimes get to hang out with the team a little, and thatās it. Most of them do it for the lolz and to watch the game for free.
Last night, the EBUG provided by the Hawks was Scott Foster. Heād done it before. Sit in the press box, watch the game, go home. One-day contract. They often donāt even get paid, although sometimes the team gives them fifty bucks for gas and parking.
So last night, the following planets aligned to make all this happen: Corey Crawford, the Hawksā primary goalie and a two-time Vezina trophy winner, was already hurt and wouldnāt be playing. This meant that their secondary goalie, Anton Forsberg, became their primary while Crawford is out, and their third-string goalie, Collin Delia, became the backup.Ā But then Forsberg got hurt JUST before the game (playing warm-up soccer, no less – most teams do that to loosen up before game time). This meant that Delia had to start the game. Forsberg is an experienced NHL goalie. This was Deliaās first NHL game.
The minute Forsberg got hurt, this already became a pretty big night for EBUG Foster. Because the team has to have two goalies ready to play (in the event the primary is injured), Foster would actually have to get into his gear and dress for the game and sit on the bench.
The EBUG usually doesnāt do that. They just have to be in the arena, in street clothes.
The Hawksā equipment manager was probably scrambling to get his name on a blank jersey before puck drop.Ā Ā
A few minutes into the third period, Delia got cramps and had to leave the ice. (an EBUG can only be sent in if the primary goalie is ejected or injured – they canāt relieve a goalie whoās pulled for too many goals allowed, for example).
This meant that Scott Foster would be going in. The beer-league accountant, who came to the arena expecting to have a hot dog and watch the game, was about to get in the net and play in the NHL.
So he got in the net, having never played on NHL iceā¦or even AHL or ECHL iceā¦before in his life. He finished out the game, playing for fourteen minutes. Against a team heading for the Stanley Cup playoffs that includes Patrick Laine, the #2 goal-scorer in the entire league. He faced seven shots and stopped them all, some of them damn good saves – one of them against Laine himself. Lucky for him the Hawks were up 6-2 so it wasnāt exactly a nailbiter – and the game itself was irrelevant – but who cares? He was named first star of the game and the crowd and team both ecstatically cheered him, because who doesnāt love a regular joe getting to play in the NHL for one night?
Please enjoy this highlight video. Itāll make your day.