I mean really. They lollygaggle about their spacious, opulent homes (with their fully-upholstered trophy wives) all day. Stubble-faced and shirtless, wearing only housecoats and warmup pants, they boorishly belch up Gatorade and cram Powerbars down their mangled maws whilst frittering away the time playing Xbox and watching the Golf Channel. I've thought long and hard about this, but it would only be appropriate to come up with a bad name for them, preferably one which up until now, had a totally different meaning. This only makes sense to use a word in the wrong context because I am angry. Therefore, I shall hereinafter refer to them by the perjorative "Hobos." Meanwhile, their more ambitious union brethern are one by one joining the Humanitarian Airlift of Quality Hockey to needy, previously-deprived European fans. Think of the children! Why, now every little Tomasz, every little Veli-Pekka, every little Haraald can see a real-life NHL player in their very own hometown! Oh, how their eyes shall light up like Tannenbaums! Yes Sir. Those Hobos are selfish. They should be sharing their God-given hockey talent with the rest of the world. Shame shame shame.