Happy Mom's Day!

You know, Dads get a lot of credit when it comes to cultivating their kid's sports consciousness, and rightly so; I distinctly remember going with my dad to Sabres, Bisons, and Blizzard (dude, remember the Blizzard?) games as a kid, tossing around a lacrosse ball or kicking around a soccer ball in the backyard. But those are stories for next month. Today I'd like to give the Moms of the world, and my mom in particular, their due for bringing an appreciation of sports to their kids.

As I've mentioned before, even though I was raised by two intense Buffalo sports fans, and thus always had an awareness of sports, I never really got turned on to hockey until the Sabres' 2005-2006 season. I didn't start getting hardcore until that playoff run, but in the spirit of full disclosure, the ball was set in motion well before that, and it was all my mom's doing. I was home one night during my winter break, lounging on the couch and not really paying attention while my parents watched a mid-season Sabres game. When the first intermission came around, my mom lit up and said, "You have to see this guy." The intermission show included an interview with a player on injured reserve who was saying something or other about the Sabres, sitting there looking sharp in a suit. It was Taylor Pyatt, and he looked good. He looked damn good. It's embarrassing to admit, but that was the first time I really looked at hockey and said "Huh. There might be something worthwhile to this sport after all." I watched the rest of the game with my parents. I don't remember who they played or if they won, but I do remember my dad telling me about a new young Sabre whose style and grit he liked--Paul Gaustad. After that, my mom knew my weakness. She kept needling me about Pyatt, using him as a reward to get me to keep watching hockey with her for the rest of my break. After I went back to school, of course, my dedication dropped off due to the distance, but with summer came the playoffs, when my mom finally got her wish and I fell in love with the Sabres.

And since she made me do it, I think it's only fair that she's around to help me deal with it, which she is. I've never known my mom to not be willing to talk about hockey. In fact, since I've been here in Europe, I don't think we've had a single conversation (mostly over AIM) that didn't center on the Sabres, at least as some point. First she would update me on the family: what my sister was up to in NYC, what new ways my brother had come up with to drive her nuts, how my dad was diligently working on his German. And then, inevitably, we would turn to talking about who looked like shit on defense last night, or why Pommerdoodle deserved the Lady Byng nomination, or how on earth my dad could be rooting for the Flyers. So, Mom, for getting me started on my hockey obsession, and then continuing to support me through it, I post these goodies on your erstwhile and current hockey crushes in your honor:

Rhett Warrener

Taylor Pyatt

Jason Pominville

Enjoy! And for all of the moms out there today, driving your kids to practice, picking up their equipment, making sure they're staying hydrated, and just generally being moms: Have a wonderful Mother's Day!