#steckel

W najbliższą sobotę do składu Toronto powróci Joffrey Lupul. Uczestnik meczu All-Star 2012 już doszedł do siebie po urazie (złamana ręka) i jest w 100% gotowy do gry. Sytuacja ta wymusiła na włodarzach Toronto wykonanie pewnych ruchów kadrowych, aby zmieścić się w limicie 23 "aktywnych" graczy. Kilka godzin temu Maple Leafs dokonali wymiany z Anaheim Ducks.

Drużynę z Toronto opuścił David Steckel (na zdjęciu), Maple Leafs otrzymali w zamian wybór w 7 rundzie Draftu 2014 oraz skrzydłowego Ryana Lascha. Steckel trafił do "The Buds" w 2011 roku z New Jersey Devils. W barwach Leafs rozegrał 89 spotkań zdobywając 8 goli i asystując przy 6 innych. Jednakże w przypadku Davida inna statystyka ogrywała kluczową rolę - w trakcie swojej kariery, Steckel wygrał nieco ponad 58% wznowień. Właśnie to było jego głównym zadaniem w Toronto, gdzie najczęściej występował w czwartej, a sporadycznie w trzeciej formacji ofensywnej. W bieżącym sezonie nie zdołał wywalczyć sobie stałego miejsca w składzie meczowym, wychodząc na lód jedynie w przypadku kontuzji innych graczy.

W Anaheim Steckel ponownie spotka się z trenerem Bruce'm Boudreau. Obaj panowie pracowali wspólnie na rzecz Washington Capitals w latach 2005-2011. Menedżer Ducks, Bob Murray, tak podsumował transfer Steckela:

Adding David Steckel gives us another big body and depth up the middle. He comes highly recommended from Bruce. Faceoffs have been something of a concern for us the last few seasons. Steckel is a tremendous faceoff man and penalty killer, something that will really help our club. /Maple Leafs trade Steckel to Ducks/

Powodzenia Dave w Anaheim, dzięki za grę w Toronto.

Kim jest Ryan Lasch? To szybki skrzydłowy z bogatą karierą w lidze NCAA. Reprezentował St.Cloud State University w 161 meczach, w których zdobył 183 punkty. Po zakończeniu kariery uniwersyteckiej wyjechał do Szwecji, gdzie znalazł angaż w tamtejszej Elitserien - grał dla Södertälje. W kolejnym sezonie pozostał na północy Europy, przenosząc się do fińskiej SM-Liigi. Z drużyną Lahti Pelicans zdobył wicemistrzostwo kraju, przy okazji zdobywając tytuł najskuteczniejszego zawodnika sezonu (62 punkty w 59 meczach sezonu zasadniczego). Rozgrywki 2012-2013 rozpoczął w lidze AHL (Norfolk Admirals) skąd odesłano go szczebel niżej (Fort Wayne Komets, ECHL). Po kilkunastu spotkaniach w Fort Wayne zdecydował się na ponowny wyjazd do Szwecji, gdzie podpisał kontrakt z Växjö. Jeżeli w przyszłym sezonie powróci za ocean, powinien dostać swoją szansę w Toronto Marlies. Szczerze mówiąc, nie wiąże z tym zawodnikiem żadnych nadziei - to jeden z wielu graczy jacy regularnie przewijają się w szerokich składach klubów zawodowych. Na pewno nie jest to "impact player".

I woke up in Lauren's bed at 9:15, my arm around her and the sun in the window obscured from my eyes by a bit of her hair that made it over my face in the negotiations of the night. My body felt incredible; it dawned on me that this was the first time in five weeks I'd known the comfort of an actual bed. I rolled on my back and thought for a bit, about the immensity of last night and the road ahead, and opted to get up and go to the restroom. Lauren stirred awake with a groan.

"What time is it?" her voice withered with contempt for consciousness. "9:30." "11:30?" "No, 9:30." "Oh. I have to be at the gym at noon."

I slowly dressed and thought about my plan for the day and talked a bit about things of no consequence.

"I'd lean in to kiss you goodbye," I said, "but I currently possess the most wicked case of morning breath."

Lauren laughed and got up to let me out, tightening her lips when she kissed me at the front door. She reiterated her plan to be in Houston the following Thursday so we agreed to continue exploring whatever it was we still had together then. We exchanged I love you's, I stepped into the elevator and in 30 seconds I was in the street again. The morning actually possessed a slight chill, 66 degrees. It was the coldest Chicago had been the entire time I was there. It was mid-August and summer was beginning its exit.

I passed a street festival on Halstead that was setting up for the day and made my way down Cordelia to Seminary and cut over to Newport and Eric's apartment. He was still asleep so I quietly checked my computer and texted Aaron about meeting up. Eric opened his door as I was brushing my teeth and prepping for a shower and we talked a bit about the Second City show and some of the night's events. He threw on some clothes and headed out to a rehearsal and I turned on an episode of Radiolab pertaining to Wagner's Ring Cycle to gain more Harold insight as I showered.

Aaron showed up around 12:15 and I loaded his car with my bag and books and various other things I collected the past five weeks. My original stack of four books somehow grew to seven, plus two DVD's and a computer game. I stacked the books in the back seat in case I wanted to read them.

We went over to the Ukrainian Village, a small Polish community in West Chicago, to drop off a bag of Magda's stuff. I don't recall if I talked about this or not but Aaron and Magda got together during the intensive. Aaron is a bit of a private individual, though, so I never pried on specifics that were none of my business.

It turns out, as I learned from Aaron, that the Polish government paid for them all to be here and set them up with housing in this small ethnic community. When we arrived she and some of the other Polish guys (joined by Kimberly the Australian) were on their way out the door to deliver a thank you present to their host's work down the street.

The host was an affable middle-aged dentist. She wore a cute green summer dress, 2-inch platforms ready for the beach, long blond hair, a lab coat and a surgical mask that hid a cute smile for all of three seconds before she ripped it off to greet us. I couldn't tell what they were saying but she seemed like one of the most pleasant women you'd be likely to meet.

We returned to the dentist's house to gather the rest of the Polish envoy's things for their impending flight. We passed the time talking and joking and Aaron and Magda went somewhere private to say their goodbyes. Kimberly shared with me her plans to stay in America as long as possible and to keep studying in Chicago. I jokingly brought up the idea of marrying an American and she said she was setting it up as a last resort, reminding me of Dan's passing comment about an Australian girl that asked him to marry her and connecting those dots.

They piled their things into another Polish volunteer's van (who are these people I now know??) and we said our final goodbyes and worked our way back to Lakeview so Aaron could drop his apartment key off at the place he stayed. By this time we were starving so we stopped at Giordino's for some authentic Chicago deep dish pizza pie. It was more authentic than we bargained for; the pizza took 40 minutes to make and was literally in pie form. I got through three slices and Aaron was only able to handle two so we boxed up the remaining three to eat on the road. We paid the bill and piled in the car and finally started in the direction of Texas, my phone reading 5pm.

Chicago, however, didn't seem interested in letting us go. Every light we came across turned red instantly. When we finally made it to Lake Shore Drive it resembled a parking lot for no discernible reason. A limo holding newlyweds stopped in the middle of the road seemingly because they could. I hate false starts to long trips. They annoy me to no end. Then again, it sometimes makes it sweeter when the trip begins. When the road opens up and the city begins to drop behind me, I feel alive.

The highway was different this time, peaceful. I took over driving midway through Illinois and fell into a concentration trance and suddenly it was nighttime and we were in Joplin, Missouri preparing to cross into Oklahoma. I'd been listening to Radiolab episodes meditating on the nature of time and the lost hidden life of a woman who wrote servicemen in WWII. Aaron and my thoughts on what we learned the past five weeks were coalescing and any time we spoke that wasn't idle chit-chat was utterly consumed with improv and where we wanted to take our art next. It was as if a dam burst. We'd talked about it a lot in past weeks but to hear us talk sounded like two old friends who were sequestered in study for a year and sharing things for the first time. I shared my Harold revamp idea and he discussed some of the things he wanted to try out with Sticky Boys and Disco Box. I mentioned Call Center Mafia and how lucky I was to have those guys behind me.

Aaron took over in Oklahoma and I tried to sleep a little bit. Before I knew it we were leaving the turnpike and it was my turn to drive again. I started driving and made it about 35 miles into Texas before I had to stop and let Aaron drive. The road was getting weird and beginning to express certain invisible colors. It took me a solid 10 miles to wake Aaron up. We stopped at a McDonald’s for breakfast (the sun had risen) and I passed out the second we were on the road again. When I woke up, we were 20 miles from Austin.

We pulled into Aaron and Hubbell’s driveway at 11:45am and my truck was missing. In a panic I burst in the house to find Michael’s friend Polaris shirtless and sleeping on the couch. It was as if the apartment was frozen in time where we’d left it. A girl rounded the corner from Aaron’s room (she had been subletting while we were in Chicago) and I tried my best to politely demand the location of my truck.

“Excuse me, what happened to the red pickup truck that was parked outside?” “Oh, I think Jon took it to get gas,” she replied.

Jonathan Hubbell, that considerate badass.

I walked back outside as Hubbell pulled up in my truck. She had definitely spent five weeks underneath a tree. Pollen and sap laid thick on the windows and bird poop streaked down the paint.

“I used it a few times while you were gone,” Hubbell said, “so I filled it up to half-way because I think that was what it was on.”

We all sat and relaxed and caught up for a couple of hours and Aaron wanted to see the video of the performances on Thursday. We watched mine and I was reviewing my performance in my head when I got a call from Chris Steckel. Aaron and Hubbell had a lunch date so we said our goodbyes and they left. I chatted with the girl for a while (Rachael; she goes to school in London and is spending the summer interning with an artist named Dax that Hubbell and Aaron have worked with in the past) then got in my truck to head to San Marcos. When I turned the engine over the battery fought to start. Five weeks unmoving in the heat seemed to put it on its last leg.

I met Steckel at his apartment in San Marcos and we ventured down to Rio Vista to go swimming in the river. The second my body hit the water it instantly relaxed. I was back in Texas and doing a wonderfully Texan thing. After the swim we grabbed a bite to eat at Taco Cabana and went back to his place and took a nap. Steckel got a cat recently, a little gray and white thing named Daphne, and she curled up on my neck as I was sleeping. When I woke up it was evening so we decided to hit up Cat’s Billiards for some pool. After enough games to get us drunk we went over to Showdown and had a couple of Bloody Marys. We laughed and talked and existed in a daze. All of the traveling put me in a strange headspace. Here I was, my old home, but I wasn’t home yet. I still had a bit of a way to go to be back.

I passed out on his couch for the evening and was awoken by Steckel at 9:30am. We were meeting our friend Ben down the street for kolaches. While there we were met by Melissa, a childhood friend of Steckel’s that now lived in San Marcos, and went out to Steckel’s work to rent kayaks for the day. We drove back down to the river and embarked on an 11-mile kayak adventure. Steckel went into tour guide mode and told us all about the plant life, animal life, river history and proper kayak use. We passed through private land at one point and worked our way around a cow standing in the middle of the water drinking. As my skin burned, my body took on the role of an oiled machine. I surprised myself immensely by how sore I wasn’t at the end of the day. In fact, I felt incredible and alive.

We dropped Melissa off at her car after returning the kayaks and went back to Steckel’s so I could hit the road again. I gave him a hug and an invitation to come to Houston soon and piled back in my truck and headed for I-10, the clock reading 6pm.

The drive passed by calm and uneventful. The stereo played Buxton and I was alone with my thoughts and non-thoughts. What happened to me? What does it all mean? Where do I go next? I wasn’t sure of anything. All I knew was that there were new things that I had to do.

I turned onto Hawthorne Street at 8:30pm and parked in front of a small Saturn next to some dug up grass. I opened the car door and slung my laptop bag over my shoulder and grabbed a couple of the bigger books. As I walked closer to the house I could hear Oddo inside practicing bass and backup vocals for Mikey and the Drags. U turned the lock and pushed the door open.