T: A Rosehill by any other name…

So I realise that my blog is starting to change quite a bit and instead of apologizing I’m going to ask you (the hypothetical “you” of course, because I’m well aware no one is reading this) to embrace it. This entry won’t even have a single reference to a book, so if that is what you came for you may as well stop reading right now.

Much of this hockey season I have been praying for a single event. A momentous occasion where the single most beautiful man in the NHL (in my opinion) would do something so that I could finally write about him. Since last year-end of season and through to this year’s pre-season, when I had his name and number put onto a jersey so that I could wear it proudly to a game, I have been following Jay Rosehill.

A tough guy from Olds, Alberta hadn’t yet done much (aside from making a nuisance of himself on the ice and throwing his weight around). Now, don’t get me wrong I loved watching every minute of it…but last night it finally happened. HE SCOOOORRREEEDDD!!!! If my enthusiasm is not evident, I believe one statement sums up how I feel about this…I can now die happy.

Jay Rosehill is exactly what every girl who has a crush on hockey players dreams of – he is a good old boy from the Great North, he looks great with a black eye, seems to have absolutely no regard for his own safety when on the ice, broad beautiful shoulders and an indescribable amount of unexplained arrogance…and now he has his second NHL goal (not his first, granted but I will celebrate none the less).

Well folks, Happy Rosehill Day!



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