Dan Boyle didn't like the Post's narrative about him. So he chose his own ending.
Believe it or not, my first stab at sports reporting was an audience with the King himself. I had never interviewed anyone in my entire life, yet with one hour's notice, there I was, in a dim room, on a low velvet couch (no joke), one on one with an elite player from my favorite team who also just happened to look like a Norse god.
I made a joke. He laughed. I asked questions. We talked. But I have no record of any of it, because I realized at the last minute that the storage on my phone was full, and I couldn't make Henrik Lundqvist sit there while I deleted approximately two billion pictures of my dog.