While in bed and reading about the merits of the slow motion practice method to the golf swing, I diverted my attention and checked my emails on my phone. Our source sent me an email at 10:57pm tonight…I read it at 11:32pm. I am typing this at 11:33pm.

You shouldn’t read this. Click away, go back to what you were doing. Please.

*sigh*

If you must know, we are now told everyone spoke on the phone today. The LA Kings and Drew Doughty have reached a deal. Take your grain of salt, add Excedrin or whatever suits your migraine needs…better yet, whiskey, neat.

I am telling you what I have been told. I am the messenger. If this is wrong, by all means, kill the messenger. I offer myself as the martyr. You bring the altar.

I don’t have the details. Our source has tried to get it but nothing yet and, quite frankly, I wasn’t even going to post this until we had the terms but it’s late and I felt compelled to tell you what I know despite the fact right now, somewhere, someone’s unmentionables may be getting in a twist. I obviously don’t know when the Kings will announce it. Will they wait until Fan Fest? That would be fun…a bit sadistic but fun.

If I were you, I would ignore this article and get some deserved sleep…I am now stuck trying to hide my head under pillows each time my phone makes a noise alerting me to a new text, trying to avoid checking emails, and I don’t want to hear the phone ring…a similar plight as our source. Anticipation of death is worse than death itself. Nothing to see here. Move along.

As a side note…Go Kings.