Far, far too early this morning, I settled into a table for the MRI that was about to be conducted on my knee. The technician preparing my headphones asked me what radio station I’d like to listen to while I passed the time and tried to ignore the loud (but not as bad as I’d expected) sounds coming from the device.

“98.5 would be great, if you don’t mind,” was my reply.

“Isn’t that talk radio?”

“Yes. Sports.” She glanced down at the Bruins sweatshirt I was wearing, a clothing choice selected because I was even then preparing for my upcoming opportunity to direct frustration over various Boston sports situations at Phil Kessel tonight’s trip to the Garden. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep still. No matter what they’re saying on the air.”

And I did. That said, had I known some of the information that was about to be relayed to me, I might have thought about listening to some music instead.