I'll go right out and say it: I'm a Johnny-Come-Lately. In my defense, I didn't grow up in the Detroit area, in a hockey family, or ever having heard the name Gordie Howe. Trust me, I repent. It took the shock, horror, and remote control skills of a Michigan-native friend (to whom I am forever indebted) to sit me down in front of the television and turn on a Red Wings game before I converted, but I immediately saw the error of my ways. I am now that most dangerous of creatures: a Red Wings zealot. And what I originally lacked in time spent, I more than make up for in loyalty and obsessive fervor. Just ask my friend.
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