As a first-generation player in the Colorado locker room, I gravitated towards the semi-active @wuma [it says that the tag isn't working, but I tried], who was an older player who was still popular in the raptor's locker room. I would offer to take him under my wing in Tokolosh's version of the big brother program (Veal Pals), but he already has more experience than me. So I offer myself as the little brother (he has advised me enough already), and I will serve as the big brother to his little bean.

To the son of Wuma, I write;

On the simulated ice:
Maintain your core triangle, and keep your skating, passing, and scoring, evenly spaced, and never have the values overlap.
Don't make endurance a strength.
Buy the equipment immediately to get that little stat boost at the beginning of the season so the peasants can eat your dust while they are still saving up.

On the real ice:
Keep your head up in the neutral zone.
Make endurance a strength.
Finish your checks.
No ridiculous wind-up slap shots in beer league.
Answer the bell. Except in beer league. turtle like a coward and save yourself from getting a battery charge/suspension/showing up to work with a broken jaw.

In the simulated locker room:
In fantasy, look for checking. It's very consistent.
ask questions.
contribute.

In the real locker room:
Don't be the guy that showers in a bathing suit.
Keep the beers cold.
Watch out for Piss bombs in the showers.
Ease in with pouches, but switch to long cut when you're ready. and learn to drink with one in.
Don't let the truth get in the way of a good story.


To the PT directors:
An early test that I gave to Wuma's infant son was to test his team-first mentality. I put us in a situation where we would be able to get a meet and greet with Edmonton's Brady McIntyre. If played correctly, Little Bean would use his infant status to get us to the front of the line for signatures and handshakes. unfortunately, he was only worried about where his parents were, and kind of made a scene by throwing a tantrum. I had to get the hell out of there or risk losing face. If the pros had seen the crying baby near me, they probably would have thought "ew, that guy's not cool", so I taught Little Bean a lesson in self-preservation. I re-bundled him into his carriage and swiftly pushed the stroller towards the security desk, all while I turned and walked back to my car to plan a new way to get autographed merchandise to scalp. The kid still has a lot to learn.