And there's one guy I want to talk about, who isn't famous, who might never be a star, but I love him for something else. That guy is Konstantin Koltsov, who falls down on the ice more times in a game than any other whole line combined. Now, the guy has, let's agree up front, hands of stone; in the NHL anyway, he's just not scoring. These days, he's a third/forth-line guy, and a penalty-killer. He's an energy guy, as they say.

Indeed he is.

Because Koltsov is fast. He whips up and down that sheet of ice like mad. He careens across it, lunges for the puck, chases it down like a hound. Around guys, reaching through them, arching to get around them, sometimes, hopping up into the air.

And falling. The guy spends more time on all fours than some goalies, I swear.

But every time he clatters to the ice, panting, and clambers to his feet, jumping into the chase, when I see him, a little voice inside my head shouts a whisper:

"I'm Konstantin Koltsov, and I can fly!"

"I'm Konstantin Koltsov, and I can fly!"