I swallowed a hockey puck once. It was in a game against the Red Wings. I'd fallen and WHAM! and Gordy Howe sent one right down my throat. I choked a bit but got back on my skates and went zipping around the ice. So did everyone else, because the action was so fast nobody except me knew what the puck had gone. Everybody thought someone else had it, and you never saw such a flashing of sticks! Don Cherry his own self was doing the playing and even HE couldn't tell!

I skated up near the Red Wings' goal, acting like I was waiting for a pass. Nobody was covering me, and I felt some interesting thing building up in my tummy. Suddenly I knew what was going to happen and quickly I turned my back to the goal! There was a loud eructation and suddenly the puck reappeared, flying toward the goal! The goalie tried to block the...shot...and failed. GOAL! roared Cherry. That was it -- the winning goal! End of the game! The fans went mad! All of the cheerleaders came out to repair some damage to my clothing! The Red Wings protested, of course, but the refs ruled it fair under Chapter 7, Section 17(1)(A), §29.3 of the hockey rules then in use. Then they claimed that the miasma accompanying the goal had crippled their goalie by causing uninterrupted retching, but the refs tossed that out as well. We won, 1 to 0, and progressed to the Stanley Cup or Ryder Cup or whatever it was called back then.

Yes, I've swallowed a hockey puck. Once was enough.