Originally Posted by TheScorpion
Wearing my Bennett jersey tonight to watch the game. Because I am, and because of all of the Bennett discussion going on, I'll tell a little story.
So, last season, my father and I had the opportunity to go to a Flames game in January. The Flames weren't very good, and Bennett wasn't having all that productive a season. However, I never pass up a chance to go to the Dome, so when it was offered, I jumped at the chance to see Jagr and a pretty good Panthers team.
Not before running into the Travelling Jagrs (one of whom I'm pretty sure my brother-in-law knows, but that's another story), my father and I began to browse around FanAttic. I'd gotten my David Jones jersey at the previous Christmas, but I'd lost all of my other Flames memorabilia in the flood and so I wanted a jersey. However, Christmas had passed, and while I was happy with the gifts I received, no Flames uniform came. Ah well.
Off-hand, I begin looking around FanAttic for items which I could afford. I set my eyes upon two things: a Sam Bennett 93 jersey (script alternate), and a matching hat with the script logo adorned upon it. I look across the store to my dad, who is browsing the Joe Colborne and Kris Russell jerseys, and I ask of him, "hey dad, will you get me this hat?"
He says no, and that I should pay for the things I want (he's right), but said that if I made him a bet, he might consider it. So, I told him that if Johnny Gaudreau scored two goals in that game, he'd have to get me the hat.
"And?" he said. "Well," I started, thinking hard, "if he doesn't, I'll buy you a malt."
"Ok," he said. I nodded, and my eyes fell upon the Bennett jersey. Thinking wildly, I then blurted out something completely ridiculous.
"Oh, and dad?" I said, possibly slightly too loud, "If Bennett gets four tonight, you've got to get me his jersey."
His eyes widened. "That probably won't happen, but ok."
So, we headed up to our seats. They were pretty nice seats, if I recall correctly -- low in the second balcony. The game started soon after.
The opponent: the Florida Panthers.
Bennett had three by the end of the first. He still had three at the end of the second. The Flames were crushing the Panthers (even Mason Raymond scored), but Bennett's goal-scoring barrage seemed to have ended.
Finally, as the minutes ticked down in the third period, my dad turned to me and said, "empty-netters don't count."
Dang. That's what I had been hoping for. And with under a minute left, the Panthers began advancing it out of their own zone. Bennett was on the ice, but he was far behind the play.
And then Jiri Hudler stopped the puck at the blueline. He fed Bennett, who made some kind of move before unleashing an unbelievable backhander past the Panthers' goaltender. I had won the bet.
As we were leaving the Saddledome, I wouldn't stop talking about how lucky I was, how wrong my dad was, et cetera. And then, just as we were about to exit the arena, he stopped me in my tracks.
"How about that malt?"
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