I’ll be honest, I just do NOT care about the draft. I mean, I hope Darcy drafts us someone good, but I have absolutely no desire to try to form my own opinion about what he should do. I’ll be pissed if Darcy drafts another mini-forward, but other than that….whatever. I’ll worry about these kids when, and if, they ever show up in Portland.
These guys are just little babies. I don’t enjoy evaluating them like pieces of meat. Not yet.
Well, hot damn! About the only thing that could have sparked any genuine interest in the draft from me was if the Sabres drafted someone either freakishly tall or freakishly good at the viola. Guess what? We drafted a giant! Hooray!
I’m going to teach him to play the viola.
Until the Sabres start drafting fully formed, NHL caliber, 30-year-old, single-and-searching-for-a-foxy-violist, hockey players, I doubt I’ll ever care too much about the draft. Yes, I know that even my most beloved current Sabres were once just wee little draft picks, and I know that someday a few of the zitty teenagers Darcy picks this weekend could blossom into my next Favorite Sabre, but, I dunno, try as I may, I can’t get too worked up over draft day. Caring about, and judging the draft requires patience, and I’m an “instant gratification” kind of gal. I don’t want to wait around for these little dudes to grow up. In a few years when these guys become Sabres I’ll give them my full attention, but for now, I’m going to treat them the way I treat my stash of extra batteries. I know they are there, and someday they might be asked to power my Guitar Hero guitar or one of the other devices I require for daily survival, but for now they just live in the “random junk” drawer, out of sight and out of mind.
That said, I know this is an important weekend. Choose wisely, Darcy Regier.
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The Willful Caboose 