I try to make a habit of never delivering hit pieces, as a general principle.
When I was in college, I damn near turned alcoholic consumption into an Olympic sport. I once got grounded — as a senior in high school — for forgetting to tell my parents I was spending the night at a friend’s house and then slunk home the next morning toting a hefty parking ticket earned for illegally leaving my car in front of her house.
My first post-grad boyfriend broke up with me because I was, per him, “just too mean to deal with every day”. Stones and glasshouses, and all that.
So it was entirely in jest that I offered up a ‘holier-than-thou hit piece’ on Sheldon Keefe and the relationship he had back in the day with disgraced player agent and coach, David Frost. But given that I promised I’d deliver the piece the day Babcock got canned ~*on the day that Babcock got canned*~, it’s hard not to deliver the goods — as best I possibly can.
So. Sheldon Keefe, eh?
Keefe has, by all accounts, been a phenomenal, forward-thinking coach as he’s quickly risen up the ranks of the hockey …
Author: Cat Silverman / The Leafs Nation