Carl, in goal for the Animals during the third period of this morning’s game. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t get this from me. Dad likes to tell the story about how he knew I wasn’t going to be a soccer player when I was younger; seems during one game all the action was at the other end but I wasn’t anywhere to be found, and when he looked he saw me sitting in the other goal, all alone, banging on my shinguards.
So there’s that.
