After being hit by the puck in the inner thigh during Wednesday night's game, I relax on Thursday evening with ice on the bruise and my legs propped up. (I must have been taking a stride to clear somebody from in front of the net when an opposing player's shot hit me. Because that is about the ONLY place that there is no padding - except where I was hit a month ago and led to the infection.)
The first thing that crosses my mind is "What did I do now?" My nervousness briefly turns to relief when I realize that there are no un-marked cars, no FBI cars, and no State Department cars. Just LB police department cars. And I realize that the commotion CANNOT be for me. The next thought that crosses my mind is "Where is Nopey and what did he do now?" But he is calmly lying on the kitchen floor - unaware of the police activity.
Two of the police officers in front of my house explain that a person tried to steal a car at the Sav-On around the corner and was seen walking through the BACKyard of the house two doors to the west. And that I should stay in my house.
Two hours later the helicopter is still whirling around overhead. All of the police cars are still present. A huge line of cars has lined up along the street where the affected neighbors are unable to get to their houses. I am starting to wonder if I am going to be able to get out in order to go play my 10:45pm ice hockey game.
The ability of the LB police department to find the suspect leaves me feeling warm, fuzzy, and safe inside.