They called them “hot stoves,” pals Duncan Keith and Brent Seabrook did, and what that meant wasn’t complicated at all. Imagine a pair of inseparable defensemen up late swapping hockey stories, and you pretty much have it. But one night, on the road before a game in Edmonton, they sat in somebody’s hotel room — it could’ve been teammate Patrick Sharp’s because he was there, too — and BSed until about 6 a.m.
Let’s just say the ensuing game was a disaster.
