Host: Hello, everyone, and welcome to tonight's broadcast of every post-game call-in show ever. I'm your host, the lowest-ranking employee of this station. I will now read the phone number too quickly for anyone to write down because I'm hoping against hope that we have no callers tonight. Let's go to the phones!
Caller #1: Yes, hi. I have an opinion on the game I just listened to that will make it abundantly clear that I lack even a basic understanding of hockey.
Host: I will attempt to politely correct your misconceptions while letting the tone of my voice imply that you are a simpleton.
Caller #1: This is a counterpoint that is based on a strategy I once used in NHL 94.
Host: I will now hang up on you but pretend it was your cell phone malfunctioning. Next caller?
Caller #2: I'd like to waste airtime by informing you of how long I've been a listener.
Host: I am sounding mildly annoyed while I say thanks and urge you to go ahead.
Caller #2: This is a generic observation about tonight's game, which is technically accurate but so breathtakingly obvious as to be completely worthless.
Host: I am sitting with my eyes closed and quietly rubbing my temples while I throw to the next caller.
Caller #3: The previous caller made the exact same point I wanted to make, but I will repeat it instead of just hanging up, because I like the sound of my own voice.
Host: Duly noted. Next caller, hello?
Caller #4: I am confused because I'm trying to listen to myself on the radio while I talk to you.
Host: Have you not listened to a call-in program in the last thirty years, caller?
Caller #4 (echoing faintly): WHAT IS HAPPENING?
Host: Well, at least this can't get any worse. Next caller?
Caller #5: I have a trade proposal.
Host: Oh dear lord.
Caller #5: Here is my completely ridiculous proposal, which involves acquiring a superstar player from another team in exchange for several terrible players and, to make it fair, a fourth-round pick.
Host: I am unscrewing the top on a bottle of Jack Daniel's while awaiting your explanation of why any team would want to trade a superstar for a collection of players that fans in this city have concluded are terrible.
Caller #5: I am basing my proposal on the assumption that the other team will be unaware of this, as they do not employ any scouts or have access to a television.
Host: I am trying but failing to disguise the disgust in my voice as I throw to the next caller.
Caller #6: I am reading this overly scripted call from a piece of paper while trying very hard to sound like Jim Rome.
Host: I am regretting every vocational decision I have ever made.
Caller #6: Failed attempt to introduce my own catchphrase.
Host: Next caller.
Caller #7: I have a surprisingly rational and well-reasoned point to make that is critical of senior members of the team's front office.
Host: I am afraid to say anything because we are the official radio rights holder and cannot criticize the team in any meaningful way.
Caller #7: Continued cogent argument.
Host: Cell phone malfunction!
Caller #7: (dial tone)
Host: I see that it's now time for my producer to awkwardly get his nightly seven seconds of airtime for no reason.
Producer: My voice is disturbingly squeaky.
Host: Back to the callers!
Caller #8: I would like to explain an elaborate league-wide conspiracy theory, based on one icing call that went against my team in the first period.
Host: I will allow you to continue talking because I am furiously updating my résumé.
Caller #8: I will continue explaining the vast officiating conspiracy against my team while ignoring the fact that our best player broke his stick over the referee's head without receiving a penalty in both the second and third periods.
Host: I will now try to fit in one last caller even though we are seven seconds away from having to go to a break.
Caller #9: Why are you playing music over top of …
Host: Sorry, caller, we need to go. Stay tuned for a sports update that will tell you the score of a game we just spent twenty minutes talking about, followed by three dozen used car commercials, followed by me crying silently into the microphone until morning.