Date Night Friday: Ben Smith

This was submitted to us by Jennifer and we couldn't be happier or giddier with this date.

-&-

DATE NIGHT FRIDAY

Ben Smith
aka "The Kid" (even though I'm 23)
aka "Game Sixer"

Right Wing
Chicago Blackhawks/Rockford Ice Hogs


Well hi there, cutie. My name's Ben.


I brought the puck from my first ever goal and got dressed up because I wanted to ask you out. I had all this awesomeness planned for a night on the town--going to eat at either Sunda or Hub 51 or Paris Club because the Captain only told me about those restaurants. And then we were going to stroll down Michigan Avenue and look in the shop windows, maybe go to the Signature Room at the top of the Hancock (heh heh, I said Han and then I said cock) where I might try to take this night to the next level. It was gonna be sweet. You were so gonna be into me.


But then I got sent down to Rockford.


Like, seriously, what the hell, man? I was kickin' it in the majors--preseason was all mine! Then some dumbass named Brendan Smith--probably even related to me somehow, like a fortieth cousin or something--made me take an ice-nap.


That sucked. ASS. My head hurt like, really bad. Even worse than the day after Kaner's DDR-PBR Fest. So I asked around the locker room about what we could do in Rockford for a date. Carbomb said something about some band called Cheap Trick and how wicked rad they were...I've never heard of them. I guess they're old.


Yeah, that's no way to spend a date with you. Danny started asking me lots more questions about how you looked and what you did and your dad and stuff so I kinda crept away cuz it was weirding me out. But I talked to the other dudes who've been there and they gave me some great ideas. John Scott was listening really intently too...I have no idea why.

So first we're gonna start on a really nice fall afternoon--you know, one of those where it's chilly in the shade but warm in the sun? And we're gonna go to Starved Rock which is some killer nature preserve.



Whoa...that is awesome. We hike around and dig on the scenery and talk about how small we feel and what's the meaning of life and stuff. You're pretty deep and you don't make me feel like a dork for saying I think about stuff like that. But then we see a bunch of spiders and I just want to get the hell out of there cuz I hate spiders. Almost as much as Brendan Smith. No I probably hate spiders more.


BOGUS.

So we bail and of course by now we're hungry from all that hiking. I make a dorky joke about 'Starved Rock? I know how it feels!' and you laugh. We drive to a place Bicks told me about--Beefaroo--and it's kinda cool. We have some beers and talk and laugh and stuff. You ask how I feel about playing on the IceHogs. I give you the whole PR thing about how it's just great to play anywhere and I need the time to learn the game at the pro level and all that. But you notice the faraway look in my eyes and swear you hear me humming Chelsea Dagger under my breath. I might be, whatever.

Then things get weird cause Kyle Beach walks in.


Now I don't know the guy very well but I've heard he's a real douche. So we slink out behind his back after I lay a fifty dollar bill on the table. It's way more than we owe but I'm a pro hockey prospect tipped to Make It. No worries.

We slink out and make like Starsky and Hutch to the car. I make sure to leave some Goodyear behind and we laugh really loud cause Kyle Beach is a douche. We decide to head to the Rockford Motor Speedway and hey--it's dollar beer night!


As the sweet smell of asphalt and stale beer surrounds us, the breeze in the stands is getting chilly. So tell me, girl...

Am I cleared for contact?