Written at 7:15 AM at the airport, uploaded when I got internet access.

5:30 AM came quickly this morning. My flight home leaves at 8:15 and gets in at 9:something, getting there virtually before it leaves. If you were at the airport this morning, and didn’t know the NHL Draft was going on, you would know something was different, if only due to the unusual number of very tall people. Tall, young people. It’s hard sometimes to remember these guys are just kids.

Everywhere, hockey people are streaming by, with telltale signs of a life in hockey. RBK bags with team logos carried on shoulders indicate the carrier is a draftee. A man walks by, saying something in French, and I look at the woman he is talking to, and she has a Canadiens bag. Three tables over, two men in Oilers polo shirts are having breakfast. A man in a Manitoba Moose shirt walks by. As I was checking out of my hotel, two men were leaving with Kamloops Blazers bags. I knew there were few people outside of hockey who knew what Kamloops was, or who the Blazers are. Everywhere I look, I see hockey.

I haven’t felt this close to the game in a while. In a few hours, I go back to life without hockey, and I think I’m going to have separation anxiety. Free agency is the next event, but I will be sitting by the computer, waiting for news, rather than being there, almost a part of it. In fact, on free agency day, I will most likely be flying to Louisville, KY, to go back on tour for a while. The next week is going to be about packing up my apartment, putting my stuff in storage, and getting the hell out of Dodge for a while. More than the change in lifestyle, I am more curious what the lack of hockey over the off-season is going to be like. Then I have to figure out how to get my hockey fix. Slingbox with the hockey package? Touring will take me through Dallas, Minnesota, Detroit (yuck), and Pittsburgh in the winter, so there won’t be a lack of hockey around. What it won’t do is let me easily watch my Avs. Technology is going to be my savior on this one.

But now the draft is over, and it’s time to let it go. But as soon as I see a big guy with floppy hair come walking by, I wonder, who was he drafted by?

Update at 10:48 AM: I have made it safely back to Chez-Tapeleg, or as it should be better known, Le Can Annex. As walking through the concourse in Columbus, I saw Canucks and Coyotes logos, as hockey people got to go home for a short break. I had the aisle seat of a two seat row, and my neighbor was already sitting down. When I put my laptop bag in the overhead, I saw the luggage tag on his briefcase. San Jose Sharks. We both read the draft articles in the Columbus Dispatch, and went about our business. He seemed a little interested when I started watching the 1994 Stanley Cup Final Game 7 on my ipod ($1.99 on itunes, hockey fans), but he soon sacked out. I didn’t want to make him feel obligated to talk hockey, so I waited until we started our final decent to say, “So, how did the draft go for you?” He was a little surprised I knew he was a hockey guy, but he introduced himself and we chatted for about 15 minutes. I don’t want to put what he said here, as I did not tell him I would put anything in writing (I mentioned I had a blog, but that was all), but I will say that he was very nice, and he did emphasize that scouting was a team effort. Aside from that, I really shouldn’t say more.