The Pensieve

I have a lot of thoughts to get out of my head and not much time before puck drop, when it's sure to get even more crowded up there, so in the interest of not getting discouraged to the point of scrapping the whole thing, I'm foregoing the whole cohesive post format and putting some bullets in this bitch.

• Before I get into specific reactions to Game Four, a little backstory: As I mentioned last post, I moved out of WNY six years ago, and since then I've had to watch a lot of hockey games alone. I came up with some creative ways to keep that fun (including this blog), but there was a reason I always looked forward to going home to watch hockey with my family. Nothing replaces the real thing. Hockey spectating is an activity that calls for constant commentary: analysis, praise, curses, jokes. Despite what my blog byline may imply, I don't like talking to myself as much as I like talking to other people. Luckily, I've finally managed to mold a real hockey companion for myself, out of one of the least likely candidates. When I first met my boyfriend two years ago, he told me, over the course of one of our very first conversations, that he hated all sports and would never go to a game with me. Challenge accepted. I eventually made him eat those words (twice) and like it, but I still teasingly refer to him as the Square whenever he declares himself against something he's barely tried, like dancing and wearing purple. I'm working on turning him around on those things, too. Anyway, Wednesday night's game seemed like the kind of affair it would be terrible to have to watch alone, and I've seen enough of those to know. It was far more entertaining, not to mention less stressful, to have the Square by my side.
• Speaking of quality game-time companions, boy was I glad to hear RJ's voice. Because of the way I get access to games, I don't always get to choose the Sabres feed. I've had to put up with the Flyers announcing team twice this series, and the Versus team once, which was actually even worse. Since when is the goalie ripping off his helmet to stop the play a "great, veteran move," I ask you? Either his buckle really did break, in which case it wasn't any kind of a move at all, just a necessity, or it didn't, in which case it was cheating. Boo.
• Now on to the game: This is old news at this point, but Tyler Myers was a literal beast out there the other night. I said back in the day that I hoped he would prove to be a BFG, but I think that game revealed that he's actually one of the other breeds of giant. You know, the ones that steal children out of their beds at night and eat them whole. Him dragging Mike Richards 15 feet across the ice, with a ref hanging on for the ride, was like something out of a creature feature horror film. All that was missing was the blood spatter and sound of gnashing teeth. I loved it. Sure, he walked the line a bit and took some penalties for it, but this team has been cursed with enough bigger players who refuse to play their size (Kotalik, Stafford) for me to see a big guy with a mean streak as anything but a very good thing. Thanks to that performance, I am officially not scared of the rumored return of Chris Pronger tonight.
• It wasn't just Myers throwing his weight around either. At the opposite end of the spectrum we had Gerbe, who may have a lot less to throw, but seemed intent on making up the difference with frequency and intensity. If I had control over these things, I would have given him the Carrubba Collision over Kaleta, just for sheer guts.
• That five minute power play. Ugh. I had just finished saying that I think the reason our power play is so much less poopy than in seasons past is that they've finally mastered the dump-and-chase, and what do they spend that five minutes doing? Trying to dipsy-doodle the puck across the blue line despite every Flyer on the ice being camped out there. It's simple, Sabres: shoot the puck in, and then go get it! You used to be terrible at the second part, I know, but you're actually pretty good at it now, so I don't know why you were so afraid of trying it. Especially after being denied at the blue line for the tenth time in a row. Insanity is having to watch your hockey team doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
• One of the funniest moments of the game (which wouldn't have been nearly so funny if we had ended up losing) was that Grier and McCormick odd man rush in the second period. If you're the Flyers, those are definitely the guys you want to give up those types of chances to. As the Square said as they headed toward the net, "They won't even have to slow this play down to analyze it." Anyone who's read this blog (anyone?) knows that that kind of offensive ineptitude is the key to my heart, and with Hecht out, I'll take it where I can get it.
• Speaking of Yo-Yo, what the heck is going on with him? I can't, for the love of Google, figure out exactly what his injury is, but he better have a better excuse than a broken finger this time. I haven't seen my favorite player in the playoffs since 2007. That blows.
• I was super happy to hear the "Ry-an Mil-ler" chants the other night. Both because he truly deserved them and because we've finally replaced the chants of "U-S-A," which never really made much sense.

My head is now officially empty. Bring on Game Five!

A Letter to the Haters

Dear Haters,

You're right. Jochen Hecht totally sucks.

WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Gambler

Too Soon

Well, it's clearly too soon to be throwing the M-word around with these guys, but it was worth a shot. Still, if this is what the new Sabres look like while playing down to their competition, I'll have a hard time complaining about it. They may have looked sloppy, timid, and flustered for most of the game, but they did also manage to score twice as many goals as their opponent. It wasn't pretty or particularly satisfying, but it got the job done.

With that said, let's move on to the really important part of last night's game: Clearly it was all about Jochen Hecht. He scored his first goal of the season (and only missed about 11 other golden chances), showed off the new red (hot pink?!) mouth guard that replaced his neon green standby (pictured above), and gave his first interview. After the long radio silence of the offseason and who knows how many months before that, that lispy German voice was like music to my ears. All in all he did his part to ensure that, even though the hockey was ugly as sin, there was still a lot of love happening in my heart.

I won't be able to watch tonight, but here's hoping the Sabres prove they actually can dominate a bad team. The Thrashers are still bad, right?

Thoughts

As I prepare my ritual sacrifices to the Internet Gods in the hopes that they will bless me with uninterrupted access to tonight's game, I have a few thoughts running through my head:

--Am I the only one who sees Sekera's fortuitous injury as suspicious? He just happens to get injured pretty much the moment Lydman seems ready to come back, so that no one has to make tough decisions about what to do with Myers or anybody else? I'm not buying it. I might be mistaken, but wasn't he not even hit? He just came out after intermission and "felt pain in his side"? I suspect foul play. Either he took one for the team, or someone discreetly pummeled him in the ribs while he was napping between periods. Someone's lying, and consider it being looked into.

--Yowza, I knew the Sabres were having trouble scoring even though they were getting plenty of chances, but I didn't know they were literally first in the league in shots and last in the league in goals. Maybe they should do something about that, huh? And before you say anything, Sabres, the something you should do is not taking fewer shots. So don't even try it.

--I'm not sure what to make of Lindy's reaction to the Sabres' lack of finish. On the one hand, I think he should be more concerned, but on the other hand, we're still winning. So, I guess if it's not broke yet, don't fix it. Yet. One thing he said stuck out to me, though: "We've missed empty nets, had pucks go off feet by empty nets, pucks slide through sets of legs going through creases that the goalie isn't there." Wow, I was so busy rejoicing about Hecht returning to old Yo-Yo form that I didn't notice that apparently everyone has returned to old Yo-Yo form. A team full of Yo-Yos is... not so great, as it turns out.

--Speaking of Yo-Yo, though, I'm going to be paying extra attention to his line tonight. I'm inclined to be outraged that Lindy broke up what seemed to be a pretty fantastic (not to mention attractive) line, but I'm going to restrain my outrage until I actually see what they can do. Kennedy might not be a Goose in the looks department (he's made me realize that the phrase "less attractive version of Soupy" can actually be uttered truthfully), but I guess he deserves to be given half a chance.

--Tonight will be, for me, the first real measuring pole of the season. The Habs have made so many roster changes since I last saw them that they were a bit of an unknown quantity, and I have vague conceptions but no hard evidence of the Coyotes and Predators being weak teams, but the Red Wings I do know a thing or two about. I could list a lot of things about them that everyone already knows, but long story short I know they're good. I know watching them play in the Winter Classic last season made me want to curl up into a ball and cry. And I suspect the way the Sabres play against them tonight will tell me a lot about where they are and how much they've grown. Here's hoping they can measure up.

--Now, everyone knows I don't write this thing to be read, but four posts in just over a week with nary a comment in sight makes Gambler a self-conscious blogger. Anyone out there? Hello? Echo?

Cliff's Notes

Thanks to my internet connection, I got the severely abridged version of Saturday night's game, which meant off-and-on coverage of the first half of the game, and then just continuously off coverage. Of course, at the moment when the Sabres scored, the coverage happened to be off. Sigh. How am I supposed to try to establish my image as a legitimate hockey blogger, when the fickle finger of fate gives me so little material to work with? One day my prince will come in the form of a Center Ice package, but until then, I'm going to have to make do with what I can get. So here's my in-depth analysis of what I saw of the game:

The Sabres looked good.

Okay, for the sake of filling up this post, I guess I can get a little more specific than that.

I know I should probably take a number by this point, but I think I'm falling in love with Tyler Myers. I'm loving the comparison to Chara, and not just because Chara is a talented player who plays the type of game the Sabres could use right now. I'm also hoping that Myers turns out to be a freak-of-nature BFG like Chara, because I think the Sabres could use one of those, too. In fact, I'm deliberately avoiding any Myers interviews for fear of disillusioning myself, so passionate am I about this idea.

On a slightly more relevant note, I thought he looked remarkably calm and composed for a rookie in his first NHL game. He skated well for his size, moved the puck efficiently, and really worked along the boards. On top of all that, he seemed to grasp the concept of clearing the crease and protecting your goaltender in a way that made my heart sing. The words "calm" and "composed" (along with another c-word, "consistent") haven't been used to describe the Sabres' defensive corps (or really any Sabres' anything) for the last couple of years, so Myers' performance was very encouraging. That's not to say I think he's here to lead us into the light; he's still young, and his greenness is bound to show sometime, either before or after his 9-game deadline. But if this is the way he plays in the biggest game of his career to date, then I think we have every reason to expect plenty of good with the inevitable bad.

There were a few other stand-outs. Yo-Yo looked like his old self again, making a few smart moves to break up an oncoming attack or keep the puck in the zone, and generally not looking just completely useless. I can't deny that it made me a little bit giddy to see him back to his solid ways. I'll admit that the majority of my joy at the Grier signing was caused by the hope that, with the return of the original Stone Hands, Yo-Yo's hands wouldn't look quite so stoney. Not so sure about that yet, but if Grier was the magic ingredient needed to snap Hecht out of his slump, then I consider it a signing well signed. It seems clear already that the Hecht-Gaustad-Grier line is destined to bring me much joy this season, although I confess that my heart broke a little at seeing Pommers and Yo-Yo split up. Still, if my heart's only options are breaking at them being apart or puking at them being together, then I think the choice is clear.

Actually, the only real let down I saw was the Canadiens' new roster:

Click to enlarge, if you dare.

Wha happened?! Man, the Habs used to have a roster full of the awesomest last names in hockey, a roster that read like a rollercoaster for the tongue, a roster on which a name like "Price" stood out as odd. This new roster makes me almost want to cry. A couple of my favorites (Chipchura, Latendresse) are still around, and they added at least one fun one in the off-season (Pacioretty), but Brisebois is gone, the Kostitsyn content has been cut in half, and the list is now packed with names that anybody could spell correctly on the first try. Gionta? Gomez? Gill? I think I'm dozing off. And those are just the Gs! By the time I got down to Stewart, I was convinced that Montreal is letting just any old regular-named Joe play for them these days. Clearly their standards are slipping.

Overall, though, the most positive impression I got out of the half of the game I saw was cohesion. The Sabres just seemed to be working together in a way that we haven't seen from them in a long time, and the result was that they were in complete control. That may have changed as the game went on (the final score would suggest so, though the goal highlights I watched looked pretty flukey), but I'm pretty optimistic after seeing what they're capable of.

Of course, the season is just a newborn, consistency is still a question, and we all know that this team is a big fan of showing us what they can do just to madden us to full capacity when they insist on not doing it.

With that cynical disclaimer in place, I'm really looking forward to Thursday's game. Mostly because I'm going home for a long weekend, and will be able to watch the game a) on a big screen, b) in its entirety and c) in HD. But also because the teaser trailer that was Saturday night gives me reason to expect good things from the game that will feel, to me, like the real season opener.

A Letter of Encouragement and then (in case that doesn't work) Pleading

Dear Jochen Hecht,

I'm writing you this letter to make sure you're aware that the time is ripe for you to be good at hockey again.

A perusal of my blogroll tells me that in light of Vanek's busted face, the Buffalo public has quickly reached two conclusions: 1) Pominville really needs to step up, and 2) you replacing Vanek on Connolly's line is the worst joke since that one about how the difference between a Furby and an elephant is that a Furby doesn't look like an elephant. (True story: I have been told this joke.) But I think they're looking at it all wrong.

First of all, remember that time two seasons ago when Briere was out with the flu and Drury was out with scrambled brains, and you led a sundry group of Buffachester Saberks to a 6-1 victory over the Leafs in Toronto? Or especially the first half of last season when Vanek was playing like a negative ten million dollar man, and you were well on your way to your career-high 22 goals already? Clearly stepping up to replace missing or failing stars is your thing. Dare I say your bread and butter?

Furthermore, this is a great chance for you to continue the grand German tradition of stealing Austria's thunder. Its long history starts in the realm sports, where the Austrians are so used to getting pummeled by you that they're still clinging to a mostly meaningless victory that happened over 30 years ago (unfortunately the Wikipedia article is only in German, but take my word for it), but extends to the point where you frequently get international credit for essentially Austrian things like Wiener Schnitzel and Mozart. You know that national anthem you sing? Originally written by an Austrian. But it hasn't been all bad. You let them keep Falco. And Arnold Schwarzenegger. So there's no reason you shouldn't take the Thomas Vanek glory from them, too, now that you have the chance. I believe in you.

So there's your encouragement. Now comes the pleading.

Please, please, please, Yo-Yo, get good at hockey again. Ever since the beginning of the season, there's been a steadily growing rumble about how you're not worth what we're paying you, and how, in a roster full of underachieving forwards, you're the one with a reputation intact enough to actually get a decent return. And now that the trade deadline is approaching, it's starting to make me sweat a little. I don't think I'll be able to deal with you showing up in trade rumors or (gulp!) actually being traded. At all. And as much as I think it would be very stupid to trade you, as much as I believe that Darcy is smart enough not to, that line of thought still makes just enough sense for it to be a dangerous possibility. So, I'm begging you. Put my mind at rest. Play better. Stick around. For me. 

And for my readers, because, let's be honest, no one's going to want to read a post a week of solid sobbing for the rest of the year.

Go get 'em!

Gambler

I Stand Corrected

(I know I'm a day behind, but I was running all over yesterday, taking my brother to the airport and doing some post-holiday shopping, and didn't have time to get to my planned post about Friday's game. So pretend like it's still yesterday.)

So Vanek didn't have a big game against the Rangers, although he had a nice assist and was literally inches away from having a highlight-reel goal on a couple of occasions. He's been a little quiet lately from a goal-scoring standpoint, with just 3 in the last 12 games, one of which was on an empty net, but the intensity hasn't left his game. It shows in his assist tally, which reads 7 over the same 12 games, more than half of his season assist total of 12. (Look at how statbitty I just got, there! Thanks, hockey-reference.com, for making me look like a somewhat legitimate blogger!) Just watching him play, though, I can't help but think he's due to go on a goal-scoring tear any day now. He's been working, and he's due.

In other news of things pertaining to this game I was wrong about, Tim Connolly didn't get injured, and the Rangers didn't win. (But Drury does eat his boogers. Of this I am sure.)

Speaking of Drury, I had planned on spending a little time in this post talking about him, but then I read Heather B's post about him over on Top Shelf, and felt the need to comment. And, to quote Tobias Fünke, it looks like I've prematurely shot my wad on what was supposed to be a dry run, and now it seems like I've got a bit of a mess on my hands. So, uh, if you want to know what I think about Chris Drury, go check over there. (And don't forget to read Heather's great post!)

I don't really have much to say about the actual game, except that a) Miller was obviously the only reason we even had a chance at winning, b) that second period was so putrid that I was almost angry with Roy for scoring and taking away my excuse to boo the team going into intermission, which I had expected to be the only fun I was going to get out of the game, and c) that was the most consistent officiating I've seen all season, in that it consistently wasn't there. But, since I'm me, that being all I have to say about the hockey doesn't mean I don't still have shit to say.

For whatever reason, the crowd seemed much more into this game than the Penguins game I attended not too long ago. Maybe it was because the Sabres have actually looked alive of late, or maybe Buffalonians just can't help voicing their misery and delight, and this game provided opportunities for both. The loudest the crowd was all night, aside from the celebrations of the goal and the win, was in the booing of Drury right before his shootout attempt, followed closely by the sarcastic cheering of the first shot in that awful second period. I'd say that's as complete a reflection of the game as any.

As much as I don't agree with all the "Fire Lindy!" talk that's been circulating, I'd like to make a suggestion. If the Sabres find themselves in need of a new coach sometime soon, I think they should take a look in section 106. One guy behind me had a serious commitment to scoring, since he'd shout "Scooooooooooooore, Buffalooooooooooooo!" at pretty much any time, including when the other team had the puck. With those kinds of reminders from their bench, the Sabres could never forget what scoring is, right? For a different approach, see the guy sitting next to my mom, who had a similar obsession with hitting. To be fair, for the most part he was right that the Sabres could hit more, but it appeared to be his singular solution to every situation. Heading into a corner with someone? Hit him! Someone stole the puck from you? Hit him! Someone skates remotely close to you? Hit him! He's your goaltender? Hit him, anyway! I think these guys would make a great coaching team.

One of my favorite things about going to the arena is going on jersey watch. I love seeing who and which designs are represented, and I'm usually pleased with the variety. This time, though, I noticed something disturbing. There seems to be an acceptable threshold to how many Hecht sweaters I can comfortably see, and on Friday night, we passed that threshold. The first one I saw, it felt a little like finding a kindred spirit, but by the tenth (or what felt like the fiftieth), I was whining, "But he sucks! Why do people want his jersey?!" (I feel like that was a little harsh, Yo-Yo, I'm sorry. It's just that I like to feel special.) One interesting thing I noticed was that most of the Hecht jerseys were of the new third variety, which means they were purchased this season. I know you've not exactly been on your game, Yo-Yo, but apparently a lot of people think you can turn it around. Just remember, I believe in you the most!

So that's it, crazy cheerers heard and inane insecurities revealed: just another day at a Sabres game for me!

HSBC Homecoming

The HSBC debut of the Magic Jersey could have gone a little better than it did. Instead of spurring the Sabres on to a six-goal third-period comeback from 4-1, like it did the first time I wore it while watching a game, in Berlin; or bringing about a four-minute comeback from 3-1 to win 4-3 in overtime like it did the first time I wore it to a game, in Saint Paul, instead we got... that. We got the Sabres giving up a 2-0 lead to lose in overtime to a team they could have tied in the standings, we got my favorite player leaving the ice halfway through the game, we got the game ending in a goal knocked in by Sidney Crosby's (who else's?) questionably high stick. We got all that, and in the most soporific of fashions. Um, at least we got a point?

Still, I get to see live hockey too seldom to let a boring game ruin things for me, and I find myself with a couple of things to say anyway.

First of all, the atmosphere in the arena the other night was a little sad. Considering the last time I was there was during an ECF game, and the times before that during the best regular season the team has ever had, it's really not fair of me to compare, but I couldn't help but notice. I'm certainly not blaming the crowd--the way the Sabres have played this season has hardly earned blindly wild enthusiasm--I just found myself a little nostalgic for the times when there was palpable magic in the air at each and every game. As much as this city loves its sports teams (more or less) through thick and thin, that season was really something special, and I'm so glad I was around to appreciate it. I will say this: the game was practically a rave compared to the one I saw in Saint Paul in October, where the home team was leading for more than half of the game. State of Hockey or no, getting only one spontaneous "Let's go Wild" chant going in the entire game is pretty pathetic.

He may not have shown up on the score sheet, but Thomas Vanek had a pretty great game regardless. I had a good feeling from the moment his first shift ended with his shoulder in the middle of Malkin's back, and he went on to live in Geno's back pocket the rest of the game. Malkin's a pretty formidable player at any time, and he's been especially on fire this year (I should know, he's been great for my fantasy team), and he couldn't even think about heading toward the net without Vanek all over him. And he made it look so easy. For as much lip service as I'm sure Versus was giving Malkin and Crosby during their broadcast, it was ultimately Vanek who was attracting my attention on the ice. (Granted, I'm a little biased.) So I noticed, near the end of the game, how much he really wanted to score. As much as all of us in the building wanted him to put the game away for us, he wanted it at least four times as much. He slammed his stick against the boards after a missed chance near the end of the third, not because he really wanted to be the hero, but because he just really wanted to win. Visible, tangible desire to win is something we haven't seen on this team since the days of... that guy I'd rather not name, and it was a refreshing presence in a game we were apparently meant to lose. Watching Vanek I had a feeling--I know there's no way for me to prove this and it's ultimately useless--but I just had a feeling that he was going to score. Crosby just... got there first, I guess.

I somehow missed whatever happened with Hecht, though you would think your favorite player getting hit in the head with a puck would be pretty hard to miss. I spent the last minutes of the second and the better part of the third worrying about where he'd gone and peering down at the bench to see if he had returned yet, and as soon as we got back to the car I turned on the radio to hear what the word was. At first all we heard was that he'd suffered a laceration below his ear and had to leave the ice, which prompted my mother to say, "What, does the sight of his own blood make him queasy or something?" As is always the case with me and my mom in such situations, one thing led to another and we decided that the scene in the locker room during the second must have looked something like this. (I really want that video to embed, but blogger really wants it not to. You win this round, blogger. Please click, everyone.)

No wonder they came out and lost their focus in the third. They spent the intermission in a room full of smoke and half-cooked noodles! Who could stay focused at a time like that?!

All in all, a pretty average game. It could have been a lot better, but it also could have been a lot worse. Thanks to Santa bringing someone a new Pominville third this Christmas, our next trip to HSBC  (January 9th against the Rangers) will be another jersey debut. Let's hope that one falls on the "a lot better" side of the fence.

News from the Abyss

Finals have had me in their deadly clutches practically since Thanksgiving, so I haven't had much time to think about hockey lately, let alone write something coherent about it. (I have a feeling if I tried to write a real post at this point I would end up either writing in German or citing Michel Foucault. My brain is so fried.) But I would be majorly remiss if I didn't take a second away from studying and writing to showcase this photo of Yo-Yo's latest handiwork, which I found this morning thanks to Goose's Roost:

*Swoon*

That is all. The light at the end of the tunnel is approaching, and hopefully by tomorrow I'll be able to find out exactly how tiny Nathan Gerbe is.

Triumphant Return!

Tonight, those wearing number 55 get back in the game.

That's right, Jochen Hecht, backbone of the backchecking forwards and official ambassador to my heart, will set skate on ice again tonight for the first time following what seemed like the longest surgery recovery period ever. (That's the last time he borrows a finger from Tim Connolly.) In a show of solidarity, I'm coming out of my months-long blogger hibernation to set fingers to keyboard and start reversing the troublesome trend in this, an ostensible hockey blog in which 90% of the posts appearing on the first page are about a sport that is not hockey. (That's the last time I borrow my work ethic from Jaromir Jagr.) 

You know, after spending most of last season and the summer in Europe, I guess I just started to take being out of the loop for granted. Why bother writing anything when those other, more diligent minds behind the ever-growing number of excellent Sabres blogs out there are just going to cover it better? Being in Minnesota doesn't really help. My only access to the (non-Versus) games has been through grainy internet feeds, and outside of text messages with my family, no one in my daily life has any desire to talk about hockey. So it's been easy to grow complacent. I've fallen back on the excuse that since most of my contact with hockey is through hearsay and guessing games, I couldn't possibly offer up any kind of worthwhile insight. Well, no longer. I'm not going to let those excuses cover up the truth anymore, the truth that caused me to start this blog in the first place and the truth that is still true today: I have shit to say. That's the main issue. Whether or not anyone wants to read it has always been a secondary concern.

So what do I have to say about this season so far? Well, overall it's been pleasantly surprising, with few notable exceptions. Here's my distillation of the young season down to the highest highs and lowest lows:

Highs

• Captain Rivet - I'll admit, when I first learned via text message that off-season acquisition and grumpily reluctant new Buffalonian, Craig Rivet, had been chosen captain, my reaction wasn't thoroughly positive. It was somewhere between wanting to laugh out loud and wanting vomit silently. (You know, that sensation that somehow only your favorite sports team can provoke.) It's not that I didn't like him, more that I was worried he didn't like us. How could he possibly be ready to lead a team he'd known for a mere matter of weeks? My anxiety lessened some when I learned that the appointment was the result of a team vote, and it disappeared completely after I first got to see him in action. From leading the defense with a steady hand, to finally applying the crease-policing force Miller's been needing (wow, that sounded dirtier than I meant it to), and unhesitatingly jumping into any conflict to protect his teammates, I'm pretty sure he's done all he needs to do to get everyone in Buffalo head over heels. 
• TV Upgrade - What is there left to say about Thomas Vanek at this point? It's pretty obvious that he's turning into a player worthy of his contract, maybe even worthy of mention alongside the league's elite right before our very eyes. And it's been a delightful transformation to witness. Not like we didn't know this before, but a confident Vanek is a force to be reckoned with out there, and it's nice to see him proving it consistently. On a personal note, I'm glad to see my previously irrational affection for him find justification. Now I can say I love him because he's Austrian, Minnesotan, and an ass-kicking hockey player.
• Penalty Thrilling - The PK has been the most consistently delightful thing about the season so far, from my view. Especially following a season where special teams were so abysmal, it's a beautiful thing to have a unit of players that kills penalties and not our souls. It's gotten to the point that I almost cheer for every penalty we have called against us, just because I love seeing our PKers in action, usually competent and often downright dominant while down one man. Through 12 games we've only been outscored 5-2 while killing penalties, and that's one sexy statistic.

Lows

• Brochen Jochen - Okay, so this one might be a little personal, but it definitely counts as one of the low points of the season when I found out my favorite player wasn't going to be healthy for the game I saw here against the Wild on October 23rd. The game was an exciting one regardless, but it just wasn't the same without being able to watch for good old number 55 to miss an open net or shoot right at the goaltender. Apparently scoring a goal so early in the season was too much of a strain on him, though. He has to learn how to pace himself better. I'll be honest, I didn't really get what the big deal was for this injury, especially for a player who apparently played with a broken wrist for four months last season. I mean, couldn't they have just taped his fingers together and waited for it to heal on its own? It's not like Yo-Yo's known for his great dexterity or anything. No, I'm pretty sure he just sat out to spite me. It's okay, Yo-Yo. I still love you.
• Disappearing Derek - There have been a number of disappointing player performances so far this season, but for the most part it's been what's expected. Stafford continues to be a non-factor with promise, Connolly continues to be held together with chewing gum and dental floss, and Max continues to be... Max. But Roy-Z has only 6 points in 12 games, and that's just not acceptable, especially after the bedazzling end to his season he had last year. He's not yet gotten to the "pile of puke" stage in my eyes (I save that for when he's being actively detrimental to his team), but even given his over-exaggerated 5'9" stature, I know he can be more visible.
• Relapses - This has got to be the biggest fear on every Sabres fan's mind right now. It's why those losses against Ottawa and Tampa made us so nervous. The season began with a number of encouraging displays of things last year's Sabres failed to do on a regular basis--sticking out a whole game against a good team, blowing away a bad team--but that Tampa game in particular looked like a direct cut and paste from last year's worst: scattered offense, sloppy defense, and shaky goaltending. It looked way too familiar for comfort. The Sabres bounced back from those two tough losses with a pair of shutout wins, which is reassuring, but if they want to keep these good times rolling they're going to have to avoid pulling games like that on their jumpy, PTSD-y fans.

Hockey Players are Cheap and Easy

The internet has a new toy!

Everyone's getting in on the fun of Hockey-Reference.com, which is home to not only more hockey stats than you could ever need, but also a kind of internet whorehouse where you can "sponsor" different players and use the ad space to enhance or deface their profiles as you see fit. Of course, anywhere you get to pimp your website and be silly at the same time is like a blogger's paradise, so the internets have been abuzz lately as everybody's been plunking down the (PayPal) dough and snatching up their favorite players.

Alas, Yo-Yo was already taken by the time I caught on to this whole trend. After I'd finished rending my clothing and tearing out my hair, I picked up the pieces of my broken heart and bought Marty instead. The reasons were fourfold: 1. I didn't want any Flyers fans getting to him first, 2. The tagline of my blog fits in well on the profile of a notorious chatterbox, 3. I realized during the Versus intermission piece on him that his accent has more Buffalo than Quebec, and that's just wicked, 4. I love him. Of course, then I felt bad about putting up $10 for a Flyer, even if it is Marty, and none for my boys in Blue and Gold, so I went and got Official Second Favorite Sabre Adam Mair as well. The reasons here were pretty much onefold: he kicks ass. All in all $20 well spent, I think.

Aside from the fun of the sponsorships, I'm absolutely fascinated by the broad scope of statistics available on that site, and regardless of the fact that I don't really understand stats, nor do I have any real use for them, I can see myself wasting a lot of time there. Hey, maybe I'll accidentally learn something while I'm at it!

By the way, while trying to learn more about this Felix Schutz character I'm bound to fall in love with someday (despite the fact that he looks astoundingly like a chubbier version of my cousin), I came across this tidbit in his Q & A session on Sabres.com:

Jochen Hecht is German and he came over the first day of camp and said hi and said if I needed any help that I could ask him. Some of the younger guys helped me out too, but pretty much everyone was really great, a bunch of good guys.

I did keep in touch [with Hecht]. And there is another guy, [Phillipe] Gogulla, and we were hanging around and talking German at camp.

First of all, how cute is Yo-Yo, being all helpful and stuff? What a sweetie! But more importantly, I'm just going to say right now that if I ever hear Jochen Hecht speaking German, I may just faint dead away. Just saying.

The New Kids

Yesterday the Sabres increased their ranks of left-shooting German centers whose names easily lend themselves to lame puns by 100%. That Darcy, he knows just what I like.

Oh, and something about a kid named Gerbe, too. I guess he's going to be big. Except... small. He'll be big and small. Bigly small and smally big. If you know what I mean. (And what I mean is he's 5'5" and really good at hockey.)

At Last

Was last night a great night to be a Sabres fan or was it a great night to be a Sabres fan? Seriously, that game was flat-out insane! And you know the best part? I GOT TO SEE IT! FINALLY! AFTER TWO-AND-A-HALF MONTHS OF HOCKEY-LESS SUFFERING! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Due to some interweb-related magic (I'm pretty sure there was actual pixie dust involved), I was able to get the game (only the Lightning feed, sadly, but I'll definitely take what I can get) on my computer last night. The quality was a little stuttery during the first two periods but the feed smoothed out just as the Sabres did and I saw the best part of the game without too much difficulty. Sure beat checking Sabres.com for the scores, though.

The bad part about watching my first hockey game in such a long time is that I'm way out of practice with this whole "blogging-and-actually-having-something-legitimate-to-write-about" thing. Especially since the awesomeness of this game left me pretty much SPEECHLESS. Can't I just go back to having fake conversations with fish? No? Okay, let's see what I have to say.

-First things first, I have some presents to hand out to my favorite player-turned-scoring machine:

Shiny!

Bubbly!

Luminescent!

Whoa, back off Yo-Yo's cake, bitch!

Yo-Yo! I'm so proud of you! You did it! I knew you could! I believed in you since the start of the season, and you DID IT! Thanks so much for waiting until you knew I was watching. If I'd known that was all the encouragement you needed I would have moved mountains to get to watch the games sooner. And I like how you tried to play it off as no big deal in your post game

interview, like we didn't all see the giggly, giddy goal celebration with Pommers. I know you don't smile like that after just any goal, Yo-Yo. That was definitely a 20-goal smile.

-Wow, the Magic Jersey was in top form last night, its first time actually witnessing a game. Not only did it boost Yo-Yo to number 20 (and 21!) and give Vanek another hat trick, but it also apparently grants wishes. Before the start of the third, in a fit of crankiness about the ungrateful Sabres throwing away my internet efforts and late-night wakefulness in a 4-1 loss to Tampa Bay, I spat out, half-joking and half-mocking, "Here we go. They're going to score six in this period, I can feel it." Well. Clearly this jersey is not to be trifled with. I'm kind of afraid of all the power it seems to have. Can you imagine what could happen when I finally get to wear it to a live game? I will have to be very careful what I say from now on.

-Captain Pommerdoodle is incredible. And adorable. I'm so proud of him, and last night he was seriously challenging Mair for second-favorite status. Mairsy pulled ahead a little bit for giving Yo-Yo a hug instead of a glove-tap when he went down the bench after his empty-netter, but Pommer got right back in it when Yo-Yo revealed in his post-game interview that he had tried to give him the puck from his goal last game, thinking it was number 20 when it was only 19. Poms is so cute when he can't count!

-Speaking of post-game interviews, I love Lindy Ruff to pieces. Not only did he not hold the booing of the home crowd against them, he actually called them out for not booing enough. "I thought the booing was a little shallow, to be honest with you." HA! And then, when one of the reporters tried to get him to admit being pissed at Vanek, he counters with "No, I was actually mad at Derek Roy," to prove that he's not just politely demurring. I love it! I know there's been sort of an unspoken undercurrent of worry this season that maybe Lindy doesn't have this team under control anymore, and maybe even that it's time for him to move on, but to that I say NO WAY. Maybe it's just selfishness, but I would miss him too damn much.

-I love me a punchy Max. The Tampa Bay guys revisited his Halpern headlock a number of times throughout the game (mostly referencing how that was surely not good for Halpern's sore back), and I couldn't get enough of it. Just to see Max flying into the scrum and latching onto his shoulders like he was asking for a piggy-back ride. It made me laugh every time.

WOOOOOOOO! What a relief it was to see hockey again. I missed it SO MUCH! You better believe I'll be tuning in tomorrow, too, with the Magic Jersey and everything. Let's hope it's just as lucky. LET'S GO BUFFALO!

(Only time will tell, but I think I, with the help of last nights game, may have created a brand new Sabres fan here in Berlin. Poor soul.)

Gameday Prediction: Sabres vs. Bruins

Okay, I know what you're thinking.

Wasn't the last hockey game you saw over a month ago?
*Sigh* Yes.

Haven't you been posting non-stop nonsense about the Sabres since then, including the transcript of an imaginary phone conversation with a fishy incarnation of Jochen Hecht?
Ye---wait, imaginary?

Wasn't your last post made up entirely of movie quotes, with no hockey content whatsoever?
Oh, why don't you stop annoying people?

Could you be any more out of touch with the Sabres?
Well, I could be Bucky Gleason, but yes, I get your point.

And you're making a prediction for tonight's game? Do you expect us to believe this?
Yes.

Because I have something you don't:

Wewease the secwet weapon!

(Sorry about the blurry quality of the photos. Apparently my camera doesn't do timer and focus at the same time.) There's magic in this fabric. I can feel it. I'm not quite sure yet how strong the powers are, but maybe, just maybe, it's full of--dare I say it?--turnaround juice. Whatever it is, I just can't help thinking that something wonderful is about to unfold.

Prediction: Captain (!!!) Hecht gets a hat trick and balloons, confetti, and yo-yos rain from the ceiling as he reaches the 20 goal mark for the first time in his career. They do that kind of thing, right? Of course, optimism has recently proven to be the enemy of a Sabres win, so I'm also predicting a 6-3 Bruins final. I hope everyone enjoys their free yo-yos, at least! Also? Chara will be large. Roy will be tiny. People will laugh about it.

Fishy

(I was going to tack this on to the end of the last post, but I think it warrants its own. Excuse the self-indulgence.)

The other day I learned something terribly exciting while wandering (backwards) through the Berlin Jewish Museum. According to a formaldehyde-filled fish display, "Hecht" is the German word for "pike." This helps explain the call I got at around 3:00 this morning, during the second intermission in Toronto.

*Ring*Ring Ring*

Gambler: Hello?

Yo-Yo: Where are you?

Gambler: I told you not to call me in Germany. It's expensive.

Yo-Yo: You're in Germany? It's game day. We've been waiting for you since puck-drop.

Gambler: I've got all this German to learn, and--

Yo-Yo: Oh. (shouts) She's not coming!

Goose: (in the background) Oh come on!

Pommerdoodle: (in the background) It's game day!

Yo-Yo: Real good, Gambler. Real good! I was scoring this morning. I was scoring this morning. (hangs up)

*Dial tone*

What have I done?!?!

Late Birthday Present?

Yeah, I think so.

Look! Look how sweet he looks there! And the little flash of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles brand mouth guard? That Yo-Yo, he knows just what I like. (Thanks to My Safety Is Harvard for the picture.)

And look who has ten goals all of the sudden! That twenty-mark doesn't look so far away now, does it? Just do me a favor, Yo-Yo, and never utter the sentence, "If I don't make it to twenty, I'm stupid."

So I know that for an ostensible hockey blogger, I haven't blogged about actual hockey in a long time. I blame the Sabres. If they could just decide on what kind of team they're going to be, I'd be able to better write about them. At this point, anything I write in reaction to one game will just end up being obsolete one game later, because apparently my hockey team wants to keep me on my toes. Sometimes they look, honest to God, like they could beat any team in the league if they just put their collective mind to it; other times they look like someone cut off their feet. It's so frustrating! Is it that hard to just decide to have feet?

The worst part is the problems are never the same. Sometimes it's the offense that's not clicking, recently it's been the defense that's been sloppy and disappointing. And sometimes, as was the case in L.A., everything is just wrong, wrong, wrong. Would it kill them to just choose a set of flaws and stick to them? Why must you refuse to be pinned down?! I want to put you in a box! Get in the box!!

Can the Doctor come out and play more often? Please?

On the subject of good news, the defense is fast getting healthy. Tallinder should be in tomorrow night against the Caps, and Kalinin shouldn't be far behind him. Yay! We sorely need those guys to come in and remind the Sabres how not to keep turning the puck over right in front of the net. And just for the record, while I'm a self-proclaimed Patches fan, I'm firmly on the play-Kalinin-and-sit-Paetsch side of that debate. (And for reals, that's even a debate?) Pratt has earned his spot for now, and I hate to think what a state Miller's crease would be in without him. Add in the fact that Teppo skated with the team in this morning's practice (EEEEEEE!) and we could have an interesting defense situation on our hands pretty soon. Hopefully that can lead to only good things.

In other belated birthday present news, last night I put in the order for the Hecht jersey that my boyfriend is buying me. The good news is that it's everything my hopes and dreams promised it would be; the bad news is that it might not arrive before I'm gone to Germany. Here's hoping for speedy delivery!

ETA:

The concentration! The intensity! The... Oh look! Something shiny!

Apparently some parts of my readership aren't happy unless I'm talking about Pommers 24/7. Luckily for me, he's a pretty good little hockey player, so there's usually plenty to say. He had a great night against the Islanders, getting three assists, including the set-up to the goal that made the above Yo-Yo picture possible. Good boy, Pommers! Here are some nummies for you:

You don't know it's not bacon!

Also, for anyone still thinking Paetsch should have a spot once Kalinin is healthy, take a look at this picture:

Would a good defenseman sit on Miller's head?

A Love Letter

Dear Jochen Hecht,

I know we haven’t talked in a while (I’ve been busy. Do you know how much bureaucracy is involved in arranging a semester abroad in your country? Sheesh, this better be worth it.), but I want you to know that I have been thinking about you. I know I haven’t exactly been the best Yo-Yo fan that I can possibly be lately, what with rehearsals making me miss more than half the season’s games, but I’ve been keeping up with your numbers and news, and I’m delighted at all the glowing reviews you’ve been getting. Everyone from the players (belated congratulations on the October captaincy!), to Sabres management (ditto on the new contract!), to bloggers whose opinions I trust (see Top Shelf and Sabre Rattling, to name a couple) are singing your praises. Even Lindy Ruff couldn’t hide his severe mancrush on your dependable two-way play and solid penalty killing! And who can blame him? I don’t want to ruin your perception of yourself or anything, but you’re kind of awesome. (No, don’t try to argue with me, Yo-Yo, it’s true. Live with it.)

So I guess the question is, how did you get to be so awesome? I couldn’t experience it first hand, but I heard through the grapevine that even with the rest of the Sabres skating in molasses, your line with Timmy and Pommer was a continuous bright spot. And you took over the center spot with ease after the injury bug bit—so well that you’re still playing between Jason and Clarke even with Connolly healthy again. And even while revisiting your maddening(ly adorable) game of Shoot at the Goaltender or else Not at the Net and your seemingly desperate need to invent the instrument called Goal Post Marimbas, you continued to be one of the better players out there every night. That’s not easy to do.

Knowing you, you’re probably reading this while staring at your feet, drawing toe circles in the dirt and mumbling something about your linemates pulling a lot of weight for you, and you’re not exactly wrong. From what I’ve seen, both Pommer and Timmy have been consistent and solid, and MacArthur has definitely earned his spot with the big club. But listen: This letter is about you. And you? Are fantastic. I watched my first game in a long time last night, and whenever your line was out, it was always you I was focused on. Granted, I have somewhat of a vested interest in watching you, but it seemed you were always doing something interesting or productive, controlling the play in some way. One smart clearing pass here, another deft set-up there, and probably a billion subtle positioning things I didn’t notice, because that’s just your way. You really are playing well, and I’m so proud to see it.

You know, someone once told me that as a fan, you don’t really pick a favorite player, so much as that player picks you. So I want to thank you, Yo-Yo, for choosing me to be a Hecht fan. So far it’s been nothing but rewarding. And I promise that in the future when you’re going through a slump or things just aren’t gelling so well—as happens to everyone at some time or another—I may curse and I may whine, but I’ll look back on this time and I won’t let my devotion waver. I’ll remember how you stood by me, determined to shine as Captain October, even though you knew I couldn’t watch much. I’ll remember how you sat down and got that contract extension done early just so I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the season worrying about whether you’d still be with me next year. I’ll remember how you didn’t let the added money and years keep you from playing hard every night, even when surrounded by so much Sabres anemia. You’ve treated me well.

Simply put, Yo-Yo, I’ve just realized that you are my favorite player and there’s nothing either of us can do about it. We’re just stuck with each other. And I think I’m going to enjoy it.

Vielen Glück und Erfolg!
Gambler

P.S. I know this letter may sound silly, but I assure you, I am not jochen!