Testimonials
Dear ELAFA,
I am one of the lucky ones. I have escaped the horrors of 8s addiction thanks to the efforts of the ELAFA staff. My story is just like so many others out there. I started out light. A little Joe Morgan, a little Archie Manning, maybe some Yaz if I was feeling especially frisky on a Saturday night. Kids stuff, right? Well, I don't know where the years went, but I woke up one January morning in a cheap motel somewhere near Atlantic City in a Michael Irvin jersey. That was when I had a moment of clarity. I looked around and realized just how alone I was in the world. My family and friends had forgotten me. Rather, it wasn't so much that they had forgotten as it was that they no longer knew me. They were somewhere far away, wondering what had happened to their little boy who would scrawl Bobby Orr's number four on his sweatshirts with a magic marker. I laughed sadly to myself, "He's loooong gone, mama". I was sure I had reached rock bottom. I was wrong. My self-loathing was broken when my so-called "friend" Eddie Yates knocked on the door. "Hey bro", he said. "We gotta get on the road. They got something new over in Philadelphia that is just going to rock your world!". Of course, I knew he was talking about Lindros. It was the hot new thing and everybody was doing it. I'd been watching him on t.v a lot, even watching multiple reruns of SportsCenter for his highlights. But I'd never seen him in person. I figured that I knew I was going down and going down hard. Why not go out in a blaze of glory? We climbed into Eddie's Infinity and headed towards the Spectrum. Towards eightblivion. Towards doom. But Eddie needed gas so we pulled into a station somewhere in New Jersey. That was where something appeared that I hadn't seen in a long time. On a frozen pond behind the gas station, I saw kids. Kids playing hockey. But not in the way that I had allowed myself to get used to. They played the game with skill. Making smart decisions, using their size effectively, scoring when their team needed a goal and not whining when things didn't go their way. It was magical. It was just so...so...un-eightish. With the car gassed up, I rode the rest of the way to Philly in a daze. Once we got there, I saw members of the ELAFA holding another one of their rallies, trying to save those who didn't want to be saved. I had always laughed at them before, calling them squares. This time, I wanted to hear what they had to say. No, I NEEDED to hear what they had to say. I needed to hear that there was something out there beyond the eights. I walked towards them and Eddie yelled after me. But I ignored him and just headed towards the members of the ELAFA . Once I reached them, all I could do was whimper "help..me" before I broke down sobbing.
That was a while ago and I'm better now. Sure, it's been a struggle to stay clean, but it gets a little easier every time the Flyers perform miserably in the playoffs. Now, I finally feel like I can stand proudly and say to others who were like me, "Cast off your shackles! Leave your eightred behind you and join us in the dawning of a new eights-free day!".
Dear ELAFA,
I can't thank you enough for helping my son. As a resident of Philadelphia, it is only natural for a boy to back his local NHL team. I became concerned when he came home from the mall one day wearing a Flyers sweater with #88 on the back. To my astonishment, he declared to his Father and I that he had become a Lindros fan and wanted to grow up to be just like Mr. Lindros. We were shocked and didn't know what to do. After contacting the ELAFA we were amazed in the turn around in our son. Your efforts in helping us deprogram little Jimmy brought our family closer together. Jimmy's grades have improved and he has forsaken the #88 sweater. Thank you so much for your help and expertise in this matter. We love the ELAFA!
Mr. and Mrs. James L. Netminder SR, Philadelphia, PA
Dear ELAFA,
My friend was really starting to worry me. One day I went over to her house and she was working on an Eric Lindros fan page to be posted on the Web. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to tell her parents because she would have gotten in trouble but at the same time I wanted to be a good friend to "Judi". That's why I contacted you. I figured you could help and you sure did. Although her parents found out what was happening when she didn't come home from school one day, I was able to ease their worry by telling them that she was safe in the hands of the ELAFA. The three days she spent in your care lead to a complete turn-around! Thank you, ELAFA for helping Judi. Although she thought re-formatting her hard drive was a little extreme, she now understands it was the only way to completely remove all traces of Eric Lindros from the computer.
Lisa D., Omaha Nebraska
Note from the ELAFA: The following letter meant an awful lot to us and we were very happy to help. Let's just hope the deprogramming sessions have not come too late!
I am so glad to find the ELAFA. I, too, am a victim. I admit that I was helpless against the glitter of the Eights until I found this website. In the past, I staked my reputation and my $$ in the proverbial 'pot of eight'. In return, I ate from a pot. I have learned my lesson. While I filled the pockets of the Eights with pieces of eight - I got little in return.
I admit that I was happy for a while with glittering promises and swatches of potential greatness but as the years pass it has become evident that is all I will see. I now stand stripped before the giants of the NHL - doomed to live eternally with the Sysiphean task of pushing the rock named Erica up the mountain to the cup. The task is too great - the pockets of the Eights are too full, and I sleep restlessly - drooling the drool of regret upon the pillow of my own avarice.
They say there's a silver lining to every cloud. Unfortunately, that lining is lace and it spans the circumference of the Eights undergarments.
Erica, Erica, why hast thou forsaken me ?
Perhaps, I needed more Coffee(y)
Or, If I could have seen around the Brind some more
Things might have been different.
Let the healing begin . . . . . .
B Clarke, Philadelphia, PA
This one REALLY took us by surprise. We were, as always, happy to help!
Dear ELAFA,
For many, many years I was an Eric Lindros fan. After all, it's quite natural to look up to and respect your older brother. He taught me everything I know about hockey - how to check from behind and get away with it, how to start a fight and then skate away while your teammates get the fighting majors, how to ward off evil Russian defensemen in a dark parking lot, how to whine to the referee every time an opposing player invades your space, the best place to find Hanes for Her at a discount....he nurtured me and help me grow, teaching me many valuable life lessons.
When I had to retire from hockey because of a head injury, my big brother became involved in a not-for-profit concussion organization. He even went on TV and cried big crocodile tears while pleading with other NHLers to be more cautious on the ice so that other players like myself don't have to give up the game they love.
To prove his point and show everyone how truly dangerous the game of hockey can be, he promptly went out and gave Rob Niedermayer a concussion. But he didn't mean it, it wasn't intentional, just like the hundreds of other penalties he committed during last season, and got away with.
Or so I thought. But thanks to the wonderful people at ELAFA, I have come to see the true, evil side of my brother. Since I don't play anymore and Be A Player is in hiatus, he never noticed that I was missing for the two weeks it took for the deprogramming to take.
I hope you will accept me as a charter member of this fine organization.
And give my regards to Iggy.
Sincerely,
BL
Dear ELAFA,
I can't thank you enough for, well, just being here. In this the past winter of my discontent, beaten down by loss after loss, injury after injury and yes, overwhelming BAD KARMA, I had grown weary in the ways of the True Fan. I was anemic in my response to the slings and arrows of outrageous Lindrosity. Thanks to your wonderful association, I am regaining my backbone, vertebrae by vertebrae. Soon, very soon now, I will stand proudly and proclaim...Lindros, what an overpaid wuss, what a waste of perfectly good oxygen.
On the mend and thankful,
Sharon
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Disclaimer: This page has been written as a satirical look at the career of Mr. Lindros. In no way are we trying to protray Mr. Lindros as a homosexual or as a leader of any cult of any kind. All "testimonials" contained herein are ficticious. All hate mail, however, is real.