With a punk like Sean Avery lurking I would simply find myself in the penalty box or ejected each and every game. This is not to say I’d win my skirmishes, but I would darn well find myself embroiled in a lot of them. Heck, I may end up looking like Jeff Van Gundy grasping at ankles, but I’d go down swinging. The shots to the head and the cheap shot punches would push me over the edge nearly every game and I’d lose my on ice freedom.
As an aside, I consider myself the Theo Peckham of the political world.