My missing tooth does not show when I grin, and the gap is only visible if I open my mouth wide open, but I told my son that if the puck had hit me an inch to the right, I too would be the proud owner of a permanent Bobby Hull smile.
My missing tooth impressed my son even more than Bobby Hull's smile had, and he immediately declared his desire to start playing hockey. I informed him I would consider his request over the summer, but that he could only play if he would wore a cage at all times. The last thing I need is a kid who loses his permanent teeth and ends up looking like one of hockey's legendary toothless Bobbies - like Bobby Clarke, for example.
That's the thing with cultural nuances - they rarely translate well.