[Note: I'm only using a jokey title because everything turned out okay and because we laugh so as not to cry. Don't email me.]
So I suppose I should talk about the Richard Zednick story, since a) I was actually watching the game when it happened, b) I've been following the story obsessively since then, and c) once the word "Buffalo" is uttered in the popular culture three times, I show up like Beetlejuice. Anyway, I'm embedding the clip below, and it's not like you see the guy's throat get slashed up close, but the trail of blood and (especially) the terrified look on Zednick's face are both pretty freaky.
Anyway, when Harry Neale (the color commentator) said "I don't think I've ever seen so much blood," I said at the exact same time as Rick Jeanneret (the legendarily effusive Sabres play-by-play guy), "I have," because obviously the Clint Malarchuk thing came immediately to mind. [By the way, don't google "Clink Malarchuk" unless you want to maybe throw up. Way more gruesome a clip. Clint, meanwhile, still hasn't gotten over it, not that I'm surpised.] As bombastic as Jeanneret is, it's that much freakier when he goes silent, and the eerie silence of both him and the Buffalo crowd kind of told the whole story.
But I'm glad to hear Zednick's alive and well, and also that Buffalo has gained this mini-reputation as of late (between this and the Kevin Everett thing) as the city of miraculous outcomes for sports injuries. We're not just chicken wings and lost Super Bowls anymore! The next time one of you sprains a knee playing softball, be sure to let me know and I can arrange for some water from the sparkling shores of Lake Erie (or, oooh! Cazenovia Creek!) that you can rub on your injury. You're welcome!