I once knew a Houston Astros fan. His story is what I can only assume to be all too common among the Astros. His name was Jordan Frye. What you are about to here is (more or less) a true story.
I lived with Jordan for 2 and a half years in college. He was quiet, kept to himself mostly, eccentric, and some would say brilliant. There has never been, nor ever will be, anyone better at NHL ’06 for PS2. He drove me into fits of rage as I lost game after game, and I was no slouch. Continue reading