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So I was reading an article about Andrej Meszaros on the Lightning website the other day that reminded me about my family. So for those of you who don't want to click on the link to read the story yourself, the summation is:

On January 3 of this year, when the Lightning played the Hurricanes at home, with 22.7 seconds left in the second period, Meszaros takes Babchuk's slapshot to the face. He skated off to the locker room and got 64 stitches. What a man. But there's more:

He was diagnosed with a displaced fracture of the maxilla extending from just above his upper teeth to his nose. An oral surgeon on call that night realigned the fracture by hand. Shit. He then sat through an hour of getting the stitches. He wanted to go back to the game, but the doc took too long stitching.

The team then flew to Atlanta for the next night's game. He only slurped shakes through a straw. He face swelled twice its natural size. They pureed his food. Coaching staff expected for him not to play.

He insisted that he take the warm-up and then played one of the best games of his year. He logged 15:31 of ice time with two shots, two hits and a blocked shot. "I wanted to help the team," Meszaros, 23, said. "I knew we had a couple of guys banged up. I said I wanted to play every game if it's possible. It's not like it's a broken arm or leg. You have to suck it up and go."-St. Petersburg Times
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What a beast.


So why does this remind me of my family? Well last summer, my cousin married her fiance Zoltan in Hungary, she became Mrs. Meszaros (no not related in any way to Andrej). Now I don't speak a lick of Hungarian or Slovakian (Andrej is a Slovak), but my cousin had told me that her new last name meant "the butcher". There is even a Meszaros (Butcher) street. So it doesn't surprise me that our defenceman named the "the butcher" is such a beast. Just don't every drink with a Meszaros. They will drink you under the table.