... go to confession Botchford
Its blasphemy to stare or hover ... he was one "dont talk to me, alright?" from going Ryan Leaf
from "The Provies"
BEST STORY
Miller takes a good, long, sweet time with his equipment. If post-games were a race, Luongo would be able to get his equipment off, finish his scrum, go home to play with his kids, and get in a couple hands of Texas Hold ‘em before Miller is done taking off his left leg pad.
Miller is meticulous with the buckles, hooks and straps. So, if you’re waiting to talk with him, he can take, well, a long time.
The St. Louis beat writers learned late in the regular season to give him space. After one particular loss, Miller had his head down, and a reporter or two were waiting close by for the buckling, loosening and tightening exercise to finish.
Without raising his head, Miller growled:
“Don’t hover.”
He set his boundaries. Flash forward to Game 3 of the first round. Miller allows a Jonathan Toews McSoftie to tumble under him. It was the only goal that mattered in a 1-0 loss.
The Blues media knew to give his Miller his postgame no-go zone. But the herd of Chicago and national media did not. They immediately encircled Miller after lumbering into the room.
And that’s when Miller looked up and said:
“Don’t stare at me. Stop staring at me.”
After Thursday’s win, people were hovering and staring at ol’ buckle head. Yu know what? He didn’t mind.
ol buckle head ???
