If The Season Ends...

... and you weren't around to see it, did it really happen? Isn't this like a tree falling in the woods kind of a thing?

You'd think, given that rehearsals are weekday evening types of occurrences, that a Saturday afternoon game would be one of those very rare instances when I would get to watch. Well, not when the game coincides with work weekend, when I have to spend all afternoon hanging lights for our impending performance. If there's one thing four years of college education has taught me, it's that the theatre department always gets the upper hand.

To be honest, though, I'm not sure I really would have been grasp the game even if I had been able to watch. It's been months since I saw a full Sabres game (to be fair, only mostly because I haven't been trying: last week's Capitals match-up was cut short by a technical failure). Even though it's finally, finally warming up around this place, it seems impossible that the season is over. Now, I'm no dummy. I have the internet, and my regular daily blog rounds, so when all reasonable hope was gone, I knew it, and when all mathematical hope was gone, I certainly knew it. So it's not like I didn't know that this was their last game, but I think it's going to take a while for that to really sink in. I've grown so accustomed to the thought that, even though I can't see them, the Sabres are still playing hockey, that it's hard for me to comprehend a world in which, even though I can't see them, they are done playing hockey. It's sad to see it phrased this way, but I've gotten so used to being hockey-less that the end of the season doesn't really phase me. Not that it should be some big dramatic event, but other than the content of the blogs I read, nothing in my life is going to change. Just like all last month and more, I still won't be watching hockey.

It's hard to remember at this point, but I'm pretty sure last season was different. The two seasons were superficially pretty similar: they both ended with the Sabres just barely on the outside looking in, and they both contained month-long stretches of me not being able to watch. But somehow, last season, even though I was six whole time zones away, I felt something. Maybe it was just my residual affection and expectations for the 2006-2007 squad ultimately ending to disappointment, or maybe it was just my favorite player having one of the best years of his career and getting nothing to show for it from his team, but there was definitely a feeling of loss and lament. This time around, I got the text message telling me the Sabres had won their final and meaningless game 6-1 and all I could do was stare at it blankly, wondering what it could possibly mean. 

Only one bit of information in the text solicited any kind of response in me: Thomas Vanek made it to 40 goals. Initially, I took this as a very small victory in a mostly painfully unremarkable season. Last season, even though it saw Sabres hockey and Sabres fans come crashing back to earth, there were still a number of positives to take away. I think back to my upgrade/downgrade ratings of last spring, and how I gushed about Pominville, Hecht and Spacek, and it seems all so foreign. Now, either I've grown bitter or the team has grown insufferable, but either way, I'm sure if (maybe when?) I replicate that exercise for this season there won't be half as many upgrade labels. And as I pondered the text message further, even Thomas Vanek, who was one of the brightest spots from the very beginning of the season, getting 40 goals isn't that great. Sure, he probably would have made more if he hadn't been injured, but as it stands that's only four more than his total last year, when he was downright brutal until the All-Star Game. Not meaning that I'm at all unhappy with his performance this season (hell, I didn't even see half of it), but I think it really puts this season into perspective that these are the types of positives that we have to hang on to.

By the way, as I'm typing this, it's 11:53 PM, so I totally made my resolution this week.

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!

Gameday Post: 3 Things to Remember

As I prepare to head out to old Hot Sauce Blue Cheese arena, here's what's running through my mind:

- Tim Connolly returns tonight. I'm glad my family ended up with these tickets, because a healthy Timmy is a rare sight indeed. I'm pretty sure in a couple of years I'll be able to auction the memory of this game off for a pretty penny. Even given his 7 points in 6 games, I'm not expecting much. At the very least, I'll be able to witness to whatever injury he's destined to suffer that will keep him out for the rest of the season. I don't often pretend to know what goes on in Lindy's head, but putting him on a checking fourth line doesn't seem like a good way to ensure he stays uninjured. (And putting him on a line with another center in MacArthur doesn't seem like a good way to ensure Yo-Yo stops choking in the role of center, but I digress.) I guess we'll see if he stays there as the game progresses.

- Thomas Vanek has certainly been a dangerous man against the Rangers in his career. I snuck a look at his stats page today (okay, I happened to click on it while setting my fantasy team roster), and liked what I saw. 11 points (7+4) in 13 career games played, including two goals, one on the power play and one shorthanded, in our last meeting. I know the Sabres were practically a different team the last time we played the Rangers, but those numbers sure seem to prognosticate a big game from #26. I know I'd like to see it.

- No matter what happens tonight, the only thing that really matters is this:



Let's go, Buffalo!

Another Year, Another Sabre at the All-Star Game

Except this time he actually deserves to be there.

It was around this time last year when my relationship with Brian Campbell really started to sour, as the trade deadline started to loom, and everyone - most notably himself - started to publicly worry about his future with the team. In fact, I cited "Brian Campbell is annoying" as the 15th thing I learned from the Ice Bowl. And his naming to the 2008 All-Star roster didn't exactly help matters. I suppose I should have actually been mad at the rest of the Sabres for sucking so much that the league had no choice but to say "Hey, I've heard of this Campbell, guy! He must be good!" when trying to select the Buffalo player for the roster, but I was at a point where I was so fed up with hearing arguments that he was an all-star defenseman (despite the fact that all-star defensemen should probably, you know, play defense), that I really didn't need the league confirming it. Needless to say, I wasn't at all upset when it turned out being in Europe meant I was unable to see the game.

And needless to say, I'm more than relieved this time around to have a player to root for that I actually like.

I don't have much more to say about Thomas Vanek that I haven't already said, except that he definitely deserves this appointment and that I hope he enjoys himself.  Oh, and that I think he should make this his personal theme song:

Dangerous man, indeed.

A Dangerously Close to Love Letter

Dear Thomas Vanek,

I'm dangerously close to loving you. 

It's been a rough last couple of games, and I've been desperately looking for something positive to cling to and post about, so that I wouldn't have to spend my time photoshopping this picture with my and all other appropriate faces, and posting it under the title "The Sabres are Killing Me":

Et tu, Yo-Yo?

And that something positive is the fact that I'm dangerously close to loving you. As frustrating and sometimes depressing as these past three games have been to watch, you've found a way to put a smile on my face and a lighter feeling in my heart every time. What's remarkable is that you've been doing so without having to score. (Of course, that helps. Don't get me wrong. Please.) That's the indication that my regard for you is steadily moving beyond a mere appreciation of your talent toward a blind and unconditional love. You're not quite at the point where you can shoot the puck directly at the goalie on every shot and have me giggle affectionately instead of threatening to cut your hands off and sell them on the black market (that place in my heart is reserved for the most special of players), but you're a lot closer than most other Slugs I can name.

I already mentioned your play in the Pittsburgh game, in which you took on defending one of the best players in the league with enthusiasm, and still managed to work your magic in front of the net. You didn't find a way to put one home, but even from the 18th row of the lower bowl I could see how much you wanted to win, and watching you move the puck with confidence, swagger and creativity in the crease was still something. It may not be a flashy deke or breakaway, but if that kind of play ends with a puck in the back of the net more often than not, it's hard to hate it. It's hard not to downright dangerously close to love it.

In the Washington game you proved that you don't just play smart and you don't just play to win, but you also play tough. I'll admit I was too distracted with beating my family at Proclaim! to notice when you got hit by Ovechkin's shot, but I looked over in time to see you crawling to the bench, and I can honestly say that not only my heart, but also my pancreas, liver, and appendix were in my throat at that sight. (Granted, that could have just been my enlarged tonsils I was feeling, but the figurative meaning holds.) I'm pretty sure I could hear the collective scream of terror from all of Buffalo at that moment. I don't think you can blame me for letting myself get sucked in by the board game again after that. Down by two after two with you apparently gravely injured, I gave the game up for lost and decided to save myself the disappointment. So imagine my surprise when I turned around later and saw your number 26 flying around the ice, in one piece and, as demonstrated a couple of minutes later, in scoring form. The next night Kevin Sylvester recounted you pacing up and down the aisle during that second intermission, absolutely insistent on coming back out to play. Once again, I'm loathe to make this comparison, but even though no stitches were involved, I couldn't help but be reminded of a certain Sabre's last game in Buffalo. And as I'm certain you know from your up-close experience with that Sabre and his time here, that's exactly the kind of dedication that gets you loved around these parts. Or at the very least dangerously close to loved.

Saturday night was a little tougher. I suppose the win is the only thing that should matter, but somehow I couldn't agree with that and in your post-game interview, you didn't seem to want to, either. From the moment I saw your face during Lindy's rant after that goal with 2 seconds left, I knew you weren't going to be happy no matter what happened. From one perfectionist to another, I know that look, and I know there's no way Lindy could be as mad at you as you were at yourself in that moment. And even though Lindy was right after the game when he said it was noble, but wrong of you to take all the blame for yourself for that goal, you were also right when you said you could have done something to stop it. In a season full of guys being able to play better and needing to play better, it was so nice for once to see someone step up and say, "I could have played better. I need to play better." It was especially nice coming from you, someone who could have easily passed the buck on to guys who haven't been busting their asses all season. As high as Buffalo and that big contract have set the bar for you, it'll never be as high as the bar you set for yourself, and that brings me dangerously close to loving you. (I should also mention, speaking of televised interviews, that it definitely helps that you've somehow become legitimately foxy this season. Remember when I said I was looking forward to watching Nathan Paetsch grow into his hotness? Well, you did it, dude.)

I guess the short version of what I'm trying to say (which of course I can't say until I've already gotten the long version out), is that 1) I'm going to do everything I can to spend the Sabre Bucks I got for my birthday on something with your name on it, and 2) if I have to derive my main entertainment during this so-far maddening season (and I'm knocking on wood as I type this for fear of jinxing you) from nothing more than your play and your attitude, I... think I can do that. Of course I'd prefer it to be easier than that, but it just might be enough for me. Dangerously close to enough.

Liebe Grüße,

Gambler

P.S. Because I don't want you to think that I'm leading you on, I should let you know that the 15 second mark of this video is a prime example of why, even if I decide to strike the words "dangerously close" from this letter, you'll never be able to be anything more than second best in my heart.

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.

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.

In the News: Derek Roy Got Hella Paid

Despite the fact that I still haven't written about Vanek's mega-contract (I'm clearly not committed to being the best non-professional Sabres blogger I can be. What would Ryan Miller think?), I feel the need to go on record and say I'm really psyched about keeping Roy in town for the next six years. The $24 million price tag is a little less than ideal, but given the current state of the market, it's hardly unreasonable. (The fact that a four million dollar cap hit for a player like Roy isn't unreasonable is thoroughly disturbing, but that's a different blog post [which will probably never happen {sorry, Ryan!}]) In any case, I'm just relieved that we didn't have to suffer through arbitration, where it's entirely possible Roy could've come out with a comparable award, but over a two year period instead of six. My feeling is, it may seem like a lot of money for him as of now, but I'm fairly confident that midway through the contract it'll at least be a fair deal, if not a steal. He's shown tons of potential over the past couple of seasons, both as an offensive play-maker, and as a defensive center, and I think he can only get better. He's also a good penalty killer, which, let's be honest, isn't exactly something the Sabres can let walk out the door right now. Sure, he's small, and league-wide he's known more for his diving and whining than his point-scoring, but he's scrappy, and he still has time to grow up. 24 isn't exactly 14, but it's not 34 either, and on a team looking for players to step up (What? The Sabres have recently lost leadership? Really?), I feel pretty good about Derek's chances to be one of those guys. He may not get a letter, but with his big fat contract, he's still got a lot to prove. And as a 5'9", 186-pound guy trying to make it in the NHL, I like to think he's had plenty of practice at proving himself.

I have to say the best part of this deal, for me, is what it says about where the front office's heads are. Since July 1st they've been imploring fans to stick with them, promising that losing Drury and Briere would seem worth it, once it allowed us to lock up our young talent long term. I, for one, believed them from the beginning, but Roy's contract, as well as Vanek's (even though it wasn't exactly what they had in mind) shows that they're not afraid to put their money where their mouth is. And now they're saying they're going to be working on extending Brian Campbell's contract during the season? I like where this is headed.

I listened to Schopp and the Bulldog this afternoon, and I had a couple of thoughts. Since I haven't quite reached the stage of hockey desperation where I'm willing to call in to the local sports station and risk making a fool of myself, I'm just going to purge all those thoughts here. Because what is a blog, really, if not a place to dump all the thoughts no one else wants to/should have to listen to? First of all, there was a lot of talk about Roy's status with the Buffalo fan base. The gist was that so far this off-season the Sabres have lost two huge fan-favorites, and in return they've signed, long term, two players with big "buts" attached. As in, "Vanek's awesome, but he doesn't always go hard," or "Roy's alright, but what a diver!" I thought it was pretty telling that the last time I looked at the list of the top-selling jerseys, I noticed Roy's was in the top ten. Derek Roy, the third line center making less than $700,000, and not exactly known on a national scale, had a top-ten selling jersey. On the one hand this could just mean that Buffalo is so disgustingly obsessed with Slug merchandise that they'll buy anything (possible), but on some level, they have to love this guy, right? Another thing that was revisited over and over again, is how much trouble Derek is going to have managing the pressure of this contract without Chris Drury helping him out. Oh God, cue the eyeroll. Look, I know this contract is a big responsibility, and that Roy doesn't have the most disciplined reputation, but Drury was not this team's mother. I heard it a lot in the aftermath of the Vanek deal, too. "We're paying him how much? And Drury isn't around to remind him not to take a shift off? We're doooooomed!" I'm not saying Drury's famed leadership skills aren't valuable, but this team isn't just going to suddenly fall apart because he's not there to keep their shit together for them. They knew how to play hockey long before he came along, and I'm willing to bet they'll continue to do so long after he's gone. Honestly, people, Vanek and Roy are big boys. They can clean their rooms and brush their teeth all on their own (hear that, Andrew Peters?), and they'll learn to deal with living up to big bucks. You know why? Because that's their job. And if they happen to need help, well, that's what Lindy Ruff is for.

In other news, my sister has finally finished reading the new Harry Potter book, so updates will probably be pretty infrequent (more infrequent than usual, if you can believe it) over the next couple of days while I get my crack at it. I'm sorry, but a girl's got to have her priorities, and in my book Harry Potter > hockey off-season. (I hope that didn't offend anyone who's a huge fan of the off-season.)