Why didn’t my dad teach me how to fight when I was a kid? Why didn’t I work harder at being a punk in school? Maybe I could have had a lucrative NHL career beating people up and averaging less time on ice than it takes to melt a popsicle in the desert in August.
Can I be Zac Rinaldo please? I’d like to be drafted in the 6th round in the NHL Entry Draft, never score double-digit points in my NHL career, rack up triple digit penalty minutes just about every season, and sign a two year contract extension for $1.5 million. It’s a great life, isn’t it?
Here’s the question: do you want to pay a guy like Zac Rinaldo a $750,000 goon salary per year for his one-dimensional contribution, or do you want to invest the same amount of money to get a player who can bring something besides his fists to a game?
And if the answer to that question is, “Yes, he’s worth every cent,” maybe you should be wearing one of those t-shirts that says, “When the boogeyman goes to sleep, he checks the closet for Zac Rinaldo.”
When he’s not pummeling opponents on the ice, I’m sure Zac is an upstanding citizen in the Philadelphia community. I just think that for three-quarters of a million bucks a year, a team can do better.
Thanks for visiting the Sin Bin on Sunday. It’s also the frequent home of Zac Rinaldo during the NHL season.