Oscar Klefbom is injured again. Now before you go off half-cocked (people don’t say that much anymore, don’t know why) it doesn’t look like a season-ender (Oilers have to lead the league in that category).

Damn shame, but we’ve been saying that forever. Shoulder again, Oiler prospects injury of choice.

  • Sept 2/11: Klefbom was unlucky enough to get cut on his thigh by an ice skate, the wound was sewn with ten stitches, and when the stitches were removed there was an infection. Now Klefbom is on penicillin which also prohibits him from playing. 
  • Nov 14/11: Sami Hoffrén: Klefbom was hit to the head by a Russian forward and he had to leave the game. Didn’t play in the tournament after that hit. I assume Klefbom suffered a concussion.

The latest:

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17 Responses to "DAMMIT OSCAR! 3.0"

  1. striatic says:


    what is with this team and shoulder injuries?

    he should probably have surgery sooner rather than later, as with Hall.

  2. Lowetide says:

    they should just rip up their shoulders on the stage after drafting them.

  3. engineer says:

    Latest (no source indicated), is that Klefbom has a “severe bleed in his shoulder”. No idea what that means. A sprain? Is that even possible?

  4. jp says:

    I’m no doctor, but that doesn’t sound particularly great…

  5. Bar_Qu says:

    Our the best possible scenario is that he got cut/bruised on his arm. *Crossed fingers*

  6. engineer says:


    After just 1.42, the team’s 19-year old star defenceman [!] Oscar Klefbom left the ice.

    Klefbom was injured while struggling with Växjö’s Björn Karlsson.

    Karlsson held onto the 19-year-od, and put him into the boards. the Växjö player received two minutes for holding, while Klefbom stayed down on the ice.

    “Off balance”

    In the end, he was able to get off the ice with what looked like an injured arm.

    – He probably put up the arm when he felt off balance, said SportExpressen reporter Leif Boork to C More.

    The hit left Klefbom unable to play further in the game.

    – He’ll be evaluated soon, said Färjestad’s assistant coach Andreas Johansson to C More.

  7. Lowetide says:

    You know, I’ve never talked about this but growing up Jehovah’s Witness I have a strange relationship with blood. As a kid, I was always worried about bleeding out (no blood transfusions) so any cut at all was heavy trauma.

    So I kind of developed a phobia.

    I can’t talk about blood or listen to people talk about cuts or bleeding. I can’t watch television shows about it. I have fainted a few times in my life while bleeding (it can be just a little cut).

    Anyway, I got a little woozy with the “severe bleed in his shoulder” comment. Hasn’t happened for awhile. I must be getting over it.


  8. Kris11 says:


    What you have is actually a phobia called “Blood-injection-injury phobia” (It’s in the DSM-IV, which means you are a bona fide crazy person.)

    It’s a weird phobia because it results in a vasovagal response: the fainting, the cold sweat, etc.

    I bet you can cure it with exposure therapy fairly easily.


    Here is a cool video on exposure therapy for a snake phobia:


  9. Kris11 says:

    I have the sane phobia and have fainted (I like to say “passed out” to make myself seem tougher) a few times.

    That vasovagal response pre-faint is one of the grossest feelings I can think of.

  10. DeadmanWaking says:

    Kris11: It’s in the DSM-IV, which means you are a bona fide crazy person.

    Fun with plurals. Listened to a podcast where the speaker said “culs de sac” (nice). Then I had to scope out rabbanim. And now bona fides (trick question? not this time).

    OK, I can now confidently declare that they hand out bona fides like candy these days. Bona fide is Latin for “can carry an Rx across the street”. It’s a revenue generator, wouldn’t you know.

    The only time I, uh, slumped vigorously, I had spent many dark hours reading about the guy who travelled all over the world to experience venomous bites, culminating in the Glove of Paraponera.

    The ants are first rendered unconscious by submerging them in a natural sedative and then hundreds of them are woven into a glove made out of leaves (which resembles a large oven mitt), stinger facing inward. When the ants regain consciousness, a boy slips the glove onto his hand. The goal of this initiation rite is to keep the glove on for a full ten minutes. When finished, the boy’s hand and part of his arm are temporarily paralyzed because of the ant venom, and he may shake uncontrollably for days. The only “protection” provided is a coating of charcoal on the hands, supposedly to confuse the ants and inhibit their stinging. To fully complete the initiation, however, the boys must go through the ordeal a total of 20 times over the course of several months or even years.

    The account I was reading was vividly rendered. It would have made Poe swoon. Eventually my bladder levitated me injudiciously toward the bathroom. Five steps later I shoulder-checked the parquet into next week. Now as I recalled it moments later, I was steering gracefully all the way down. Or at least I imagined I was doing a bit of the sky-diver side roll: ankle, calf, knee, thigh, hip, torso, shoulder, head. As my squeeze recalled it, the reverberations in the flooring from my thud bounced her nearly out of her snug cocoon. You left your feet! I didn’t! I coasted slowly into repose and finished my check. You charged AND you left your feet! I didn’t! I tried to turn, but there was no daylight. Overruled. I was banned from reading about Paraponera at 3 A.M.

    I once had a sky-diving roommate, about 80 jumps to his credit at that time. Every year he puked before his first jump of the season, and probably a few more along the way. This had nothing to do with the interesting discovery one summer afternoon that with his right arm somehow tangled in the lines above his head (even a fluttering condom has considerable drag) he wasn’t strong enough to activate the emergency chute pulling across his chest wrong-armed (it’s a desperate move to send the emergency chute up to meet a flailing main). Fortunately on that occasion the fluttering condom snapped taut before some looming panicky improvisation was lost to the ages. His right shoulder was half gimped for months afterwards. He never confessed how he inserted it between the lines of an opening chute in the first place.

    He had a certain talent reminiscent of The Man Who Loved Only Numbers

    Erdös’s motto was not “Other cities, other maidens” but “Another roof, another proof.”

    My roommate was a guy who could jump out an airplane eighty times (crucially: while actually airborne), who was on first name basis with near-death creative mishaps, and who had not yet tasted “chesterfield rugby” as he used to term it. As Douglas Adams explained “The knack [of flying] lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.” Eighty times, and still no sassy lass to wind his clock. That’s not missing, and then none.

  11. WeridAl says:

    What it sounds like there’s nothing serious with injury to Klefbom’s shoulder, should be back playing by the weekend.

  12. DeadmanWaking says:

    I should add that I lost touch with my old roommate a long while back, and that I wouldn’t bet any irreplaceable body parts against the proposition that subsequently he’s had more action than Iron Man in a year with an extra month. His life course was on a different plain of reality from most of us.

    While I’m having a go with double negatives, I might also mention the stereotypical facial blood loss in response to the absence of the red drops. Immediately a man thinks “How is that possible?” and then “Really? Did I just think that?” followed by “My boys can swim!” and finally the flamingo corkscrew.

  13. Lowetide says:

    Kris: lol. Described well. One time I “passed out” and fell on some garbage bags in the front foyer, thus blocking the entry to our house. My wife couldn’t get in the house!!!!

  14. engineer says:


    Back on the ice practicing tomorrow, likely to play Saturday.

  15. dessert1111 says:

    I have the same phobia LT, and it is literally the main reason why I didn’t pursue med school–passing out when performing surgery would probably be dangerous. Interesting how common it is.

    If you are ever so inclined, I would be very interested in reading a post about growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness, especially with less hockey than normal on. I had a coworker who was a Jehovah’s Witness when I was in high school and I found talking to her about it quite fascinating, mainly because I don’t normally come across people who have first-hand experiences.

  16. jonrmcleod says:


    As a Baptist pastor, I would also be interested in hearing about your experiences growing up with the Jehovah’s Witnesses.

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