
The Missus, God love her, was kidding him about his spiky hair, giving him a little grief about the amount of gel had had in it.
Nearly five years later, I caught up with him Wednesday, during the first of two trips to hound the Canucks during their stay in Hockey Bay. His hair, beyond being a bit shorter, hadn't changed much.
After sharing the story of our first meeting, I couldn't resist this: "You're lucky my wife isn't here," I told him. "She'd likely give you the same hard time she gave you back in Manchester."
He laughed, just like he did five years ago.
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