Athletically speaking, Clint is pretty spry. He grew up hiking and running and jumping around the forests outside his tiny hometown; he followed that up with running around crowded city streets. He likes being unexpectedly graceful.

Let it be known: he is not graceful right now.

He feels just like the giraffe calf he once saw in the zoo, when it had been birthed and dropped right on its head, then staggered around for an hour while its mom ate leaves. Poor thing probably had a concussion. Poor Clint is probably going to get a concussion.

This is gonna be a great day, he can feel it.

"It's a lot bigger than I thought it'd be," he says, looking around the rink with obvious approval.