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.

Well.

Color me surprised. That makes two games in a row the Sabres have put in a good effort to gain and keep the lead. Sure, at times they looked like they were barely hanging on, but the important part is that they did hang on, I guess. Lindy said last night that this was the type of game the Sabres have usually let get away from them pretty easily this season, to which my household said "You're tellin' us!" Obviously it would have been better if they hadn't let Ottawa back into it in the first place, but it was definitely encouraging that they staved off the complete takeover that we've gotten so used to seeing this season. I'm not saying I'm totally convinced that they've turned a corner - they still have some proving left to do - but it sure is nice to see something different.

This morning a thought snuck into my head that I was almost too scared to consciously think let alone type into my blog. But if I lived in constant fear of the wrath of the Hockey Gods, I wouldn't be able to think or write anything, so here it is: Wouldn't it be sweet to get a winning streak going out of this, especially considering the completely different kind of streak we were in at this time last year?

That said, I'm almost certain we're going to lose on Friday, not least because the Gamblers will be in attendance, and I can count on two fingers the number of Sabres wins I've seen in person. You got lucky this time, Rangers.

My marriage (as is accepted tradition with proposals, I'm taking a non-reply as a "YES") to Matt Ellis is still going strong after last night. Scoring on the Sens is usually enough to get an offer for dinner and a movie from me at any time, but score 15 seconds into the game to extend your goal streak to 3 in 2 games, and I'm ready to marry you for the second time this week. If he keeps this up he could find himself with not only a regular job in the NHL but also a longer-term long-distance second wife! It's like all of his wildest dreams coming true, I'm sure.

Finally, I guess I have to talk about the bite. If you'd asked me directly after the incident, I would have had this to say:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Yeah, it may make me a bad person, but I was definitely more amused than outraged when I first realized what was going on. But I think you have to cut me a little slack. I've lip-read some funny things in my time as a hockey fan, but I don't think anything can prepare you for the moment when you read one of your players saying "He fucking bit me!" Now that I've had some time to take it in and think it over, however, I have this to say:

Eh, whatevs. 

Don't get me wrong, I still think it was uncalled-for (not to mention disgusting; there's no way hockey player thumb tastes good) and I still think the league should look at it, but I'm not going to concern myself with thinking about what the possible suspension/fine should be. I have better things to worry about, and so do the Sabres. So I was happy to see that Lindy was very low-key about it, turning the attention of his postgame press conference quickly back to the game play. When your captain gets cheap-shotted to the ice, you should make a big deal about it, but when your enforcer is on the receiving end of a mostly benign, albeit bizarre, attack, you let the league figure it out and keep your team focused on playing hockey. That's just the way I think it should be.

Still, I was pleasantly surprised to see how diplomatic Peters was in his postgame interview. It's no secret I'm not his biggest fan, but it was refreshing to see him defending the refs for the call they made and insisting that the Sabres have to focus on their next game and not the next time they play the Senators. Especially when you consider that this is a guy who doesn't spend a lot of time in the spotlight, you have to appreciate the fact that he didn't grab the opportunity in front of the cameras to declare, "RUUTU MUST DIE!!!" He may be mostly useless on the ice, but he's no attention-grabbing Sean Avery type, and for that I can't hate him. 

A Letter of Proposal

Dear Matt Ellis,

I know we don't know each other very well. (Well, I don't know you very well, and you don't know me at all.) But I was hoping I could ask you something.

Even though I was very pleased with the Sabres' win over the Bruins, I'm still very wary of trusting them to keep it up. And even though I love Yo-Yo deep down, we're still on the outs because of him missing four (4!) open nets yesterday. 

So, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to marry me? You know, for a little while?

You played like a fox yesterday, a fox that is very good at spunky hockey, and I would like to reward you accordingly.

Please circle YES, NO, or MAYBE.

Best,

Gambler

P.S. This is totally how marriage works, right?

It's Pronounced Canada: The 2009 International Bowl

Despite the fact that Macalester's main cheer ("Drink blood, smoke crack, worship Satan, go Mac!") was basically the primary reason I decided to apply there, I haven't exactly taken full advantage of the college sports scene. I've been to a couple of soccer games, which are always fun, an odd rugby game, and one lone football game, which we lost something like 45-10. I can't remember the exact score, but I'm almost certain that's no gross exaggeration. (For those not familiar with Macalester, we're not exactly known for our athletic dominance, which is probably the reason I've not been a dedicated fan.) In any case, today was my first taste of "real" college football. (Bowl games! They're big! Who knew?) I'm largely indifferent to the sport of football, but at this point I'm just so starved for entertainment from a Buffalo team, that I'll take whatever I can get. (See what you've driven me to, Sabres?! Football!) And while the outcome wasn't ideal, I definitely got the enjoyment I came for. 

In my opinion, the non-verbal noises that best summarize each quarter of the game are as follows:

1st - Ummmmmmmm...

2nd - WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

3rd - Uh-ooooooh...

4th - OooooowWOOooooooooooooooow

To be clear, while that looks like the typical Buffalo-team soul-crushing game arc, that's at least 15 minutes more WOO than I've been getting from the Sabres recently. I'll take that.

I was totally chill watching this game, and I think it had everything to do with my relationship (or lack thereof) to this sport. I'm hardly a football dummy. There's no way I could have grown up in my household and not siphoned off some amount of football knowledge, not with the parents I have. So, though it's not my particular cup of tea, I know what good football and bad football look like. (Or, at least, bad football. My parents are Bills fans, after all.)  Where the ignorance-is-bliss part comes in is with the fact that I have absolutely no ability to analyze football. For instance, I know that it's not good when you go from 2nd and 1 to 3rd and 18, and I know it's awful when you throw an interception in the end zone that gets run back more than 100 yards for a touchdown, but hell if I know how to fix it. So while the people around me are getting all worked up, throwing around words like "play calling" and "bad tackling" and "poor run coverage," all I really have to offer is, "They need to... play better." And then I get to sit back with my peanuts and beer, decidedly unworked-up, and enjoy the delightful fact that, while we have no offense to speak of, we're scoring almost all of our points off of hilarious blunders by the other team. It's a beautiful thing - especially after all the stress the Sabres have been putting me through lately - to remember that sports can still be fun, even when the team you're rooting for is losing. It's enough to make me never want to learn anything analytical about football, just in case I need this outlet again. Today I was completely free to cheer my lungs out when appropriate, boo when I wanted, and otherwise forget about what was going on. Who knew life as a bandwagon fan was so good?

And there was plenty to keep me entertained besides the football, too. As much as I love the fact that cheerleaders will never come near my favorite team, I was all in favor of them today, as they provided some fun moments. The UB squad was right in front of our seats for most of the game, holding four signs with "BU-FF-AL-O!" printed on them, which they held up in isolated succession, apparently to get the crowd to cheer along. I had way too much fun over-exaggerating the "FF" whenever it came up. For some reason, there was nothing funnier to me, in that moment, than trying to scream "FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!" in unison with the UB cheerleaders. My brother and I also had a fun time sabotaging all of UConn's cheers: "Give me a U!" "P!" "Give me a C!" "M!" "Give me an O!" "X!" etc. So, while I'm usually not too big on cheerleaders, today was a good day for us.

Probably the biggest laugh I had was during the Bull's intro video, which they played on the Jumbotron before they took the field. I don't know if they showed it on TV, but it contained the typical fast-cut highlights and dramatic close-ups of any sports intro video, interspersed - quite randomly, as far as I could tell - with footage from a construction site. Like, one minute there'd be a Bull hitting some other team's player, or glowering intensely into the camera, and then the next minute there'd be a steam roller or a bull dozer trundling by, with no explanation. UConn's video, on the other hand, while set to a rocking score (Rage Against the Machine's "Renegades of Funk," that song brings me back), seemed to show little more than the fact that the Huskies are really skilled at lacing up their cleats and pulling on their jerseys. I had absolutely no idea what to make of either video, but I took full advantage of the opportunity to giggle. 

By far the biggest chill came when the assembled players from the 1958 team came forward for the coin toss. It's a good thing I already knew the story behind it, since all the Buffalo fans were cheering so loudly that I couldn't even hear the announcer's explanation of the Tangerine Bowl that happened without us. I'll admit, even this stoic, unsentimental blogger's eyes got a little misty something in them. What a wonderful thing for the University and the city to be proud of, even if most of us are only hearing about it 50 years after the fact.  

Maybe my favorite part of the whole experience, though, was after the game, with all of the UB fans pouring out of the Rogers Centre and onto the Toronto streets, when a lone man in a Maple Leafs beanie called out the masses, "Anybody want hockey tickets for tonight?" I couldn't repress my grin. He wasn't harassed, as far as I saw, beyond a snarky, "Not for the Leafs!" but the general attitude made it clear that he would have more luck selling a tablespoon of cinnamon to a man dying of thirst than selling overpriced Senators @ Leafs tickets to this crowd of Buffalo fans. Maybe he was banking on someone wanting to buy them just to spit on them, tear them up and burn the pieces. Not outside the realm of possibility, I suppose. Anyway, as I took this all in, and as the thoughts I just wrote started to form in my head, something occurred to me. I felt different. I felt like a rejuvenated hockey fan. I felt like a fan ready to go to the Hockey Hall of Fame (more on that later), and then drive back to Buffalo and start the Sabres/Bruins game on TiFaux delay with something like - could it be? Hope? Optimism? - in her heart. 

So, I want to thank you, 2008 University at Buffalo Bulls. I know this probably wasn't the game you were hoping to have, and you're undoubtedly really disappointed in yourselves right now. But, even though you didn't get all the way there, you still accomplished far more than anyone expected you to. And in a 2008 that saw Buffalo's teams (Bandits notwithstanding) falling short of expectations, don't think that that went unnoticed. And today you helped a Buffalo fan remember, just a little bit, why she loves Buffalo sports in the first place. Call me self-centered, or whatever, but I think that's not nothing. It was fun cheering for you today.

Let's go, Buffalo!

Resolution

The sports fan in me waved 2008 goodbye with no lack of relish. I even considered writing a hate letter to the calendar-year 2008 Sabres, before I decided that, even given my sporadic blogging style, I had already wasted enough time and space writing about them. The real person in me (because everyone knows sports fans aren't real people), however, is approaching 2009 with no lack of apprehension. This is the year I graduate from college, provided everything goes according to plan, and enter the real world. (Even though I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as the real world, because John Mayer doesn't lie.) This is the year I have to start making important decisions like where I'm going to live and how I'm going to earn income and just exactly how much I'm going to starve myself in order to afford Center Ice. Though I know nothing I do immediately after college is necessarily permanent, I'm sure this year will be a turning point in some way or another. If ever there were a time for a serious New Year's resolution, 2009 would be it. So. Here goes:

In 2009, I resolve to post in this blog at least once a week.

Hah! That's right, the real world can kiss my ass!

My life will be a mess this year, but that doesn't mean I have to be serious about it. Spending my last semester trying to balance my crazy workload with living it up in the last few months together with my friends won't leave a lot of time left over, and while I could decide to spend it fretting about my future, I'd rather be doing this. Wherever life takes me over the next year, it probably won't be Western New York, and if I'm going to need blogging and the Sabres to keep me in touch with my roots, then I better keep this baby in shape.  For better or worse, writing and this hockey team are important to me, and I've been disappointed with the way I've let this blog go.

Now, I realize this is a huge commitment. We in the blogosphere like to call a commitment of posting once a week "being a blogger," so that right there should tell you how intense this is going to be. I was tempted to up the ante to twice a week, but that seemed like setting myself up for failure.

If I'm being honest, all this resolution is really going to accomplish is a few headaches and major over-usage of the "I'm a Horrible Blogger" tag before I eventually abandon the cause, but I still think it's worth a shot. And as a preliminary measure of showing my re-dedication to blogging, I've finally posted a contact e-mail to the right, for those of you who have been wondering where to send your love letters and death threats. I'm looking more and more like a real blogger all the time!

Quick note, I'm heading up to Toronto today to take in the city, the Hockey Hall of Fame, and the International Bowl. That's at least two posts of potential content right there, and if I spread it out over the next two weeks, I'm 3/52 toward accomplishing my goal! (Surely finding ways to cut corners in your resolution in practically the same breath as declaring said resolution is the secret to success.)

Happy 2009, all, and good luck with any resolving you decide to do!

2009 Winter Classic: A Reaction

So that's what good hockey looks like?

Shit. 

The Sabres are never going to be able to do that.

Full Circle

Last year, my sister and I rang in the new year like this:

This year, we did it like this:

Good memories. More on reminiscing and resolutions later, but now it's time to enjoy the Winter Classic from the other side of the TV screen.

Happy New Year, all!

Questions

Why can't I watch all Sabres games in HD?

Why do I hate Alex Ovechkin so much?

If we have the fourth best penalty kill in the league, why all the sudden can't we play like we have the fourth best penalty kill in the league?

Why does Clarke MacArthur have more goals than Jason Pominville?

Why does Adam Mair have more goals than Jochen Hecht?

Why is Jochen Hecht doing this to me?

Why do I do this to myself?

Is 2008 over yet?

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.