Listen Sabres, I know you love me, but I'm not your babysitter. Sometimes (just sometimes) I have a life and I'm not going to be around to watch every minute of every game. I'm sorry, but last night was just one of those nights. As I'm sure you know, I had to leave after the first period, and word on the street is that's when things started falling apart for you. Apparently the last 40 minutes were a mess of lackadaisical passing plays and purposeless skating. Frankly, I'm not having a hard time picturing it, because it sounds somewhat familiar. I don't think I have to tell you how disappointed I am to hear that you were misbehaving while I was gone. I expected better from you. Keep that up and you'll go straight to your room without supper, misters! And don't you even try to put the blame on me for leaving you guys alone. I went to go see a very meaningful and important movie about Nazi Germany. Can you compete with that? Plus, if you saw the way my GPA is nosediving*, you'd understand just how vital that German extra credit was for me. Sometimes you just have to buck up and carry on. Without me. Be strong, I know you can do it.
*Not true, Mom. I promise. I'm just trying to make the Sabres feel extra bad.
Well, that keeps the losses I've seen through to the end at a whopping one on the season. On the fan hand, it's nice that the Sabres are saving their suckitude for times when I'm not around to see it, but on the blogger hand, it's sort of handcuffing me. It's hard to write about their successes when the only thing I have to compare it to is the hearsay of their failures. Also, far better (not to mention more regular) bloggers than I are already tackling the analysis. So all I'll say is that I'm willing to give them a pass for this loss. There were a whole mess of excuses at their disposal--fifth game in eight days, lots of defensive injuries, we haven't won against the Blues in ten years, not to mention they don't suck any more--and most other people are saying they don't buy those. But I don't know, maybe I'm just too soft on them. They better prove themselves to me against Carolina on Saturday, though. Luckily for them, I've cleared my schedule already.
A few of words about Carolina: I hate them. I really, really do.
Last night MSG put together a really nice piece on Jay McKee (the long-time Sabre playing his first game in Buffalo since becoming a Blue) that I caught during the first intermission right before I headed out. It was really sweet to hear him talk about how he is always and forever a Western New Yorker, but what really caught my attention was the discussion about the what-ifs regarding the ECF series against Carolina. All the memories just came flooding back full force. Of course, Jay missed what would have been his very last game in a Buffalo sweater because of some freak bacterial infection in his leg. And of course, the Sabres lost that game and the series. All summer long Buffalo agonized over what could have been: McKee would have soaked up that extra ice time. McKee would have protected that one-goal lead with his life. McKee sure wouldn't have just left that puck lying around near his foot for Brind'Amour to pounce on. And who knows? Maybe it really would have been different. But it wasn't, and that was hard to come to terms with.
Last night Jay said of that injury, that one day he was soaring with excitement about the team and the prospect of a championship, and then a few hours later he was crippled and confused and on the phone trying to work out what had happened. It was a complete and utterly debilitating turn around. And all I could think was, that's what the loss of that series was like for me. It was like a kick in the stomach (or, I guess in this case, the leg). One minute I was dreaming big dreams of Cups and parades, thinking finally, this is it. This is the year we finally win one. And the next minute I was cleaning up the rubble. Just like Buffalonians do at the end of every season. Except for me, it was just the first time. As much as hockey was always around in Buffalo, it was during that series that my true fandom was forged, and within two weeks of its birth it got its first real test. Sure, I hate the Stars and the Flyers and the Leafs, and I'll never forget what the Senators or the Slag-Faced Whores did to me this summer, but it was the Carolina Hurricanes who served this fan her first real heartbreak. And for that I'll never forgive them. So give 'em hell on Saturday, Sabres. Or else.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
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!
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!
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Ta Da!
What did I tell you guys? My play ends and voila! The struggling Sabres pull off a win against the league powerhouse and big rival Ottawa Senators. Once again, I'm sorry I was holding them back for so long.
Tomorrow I actually get to watch a game for the first time in about a month! I'm so excited! I just hope it turns out differently than last year's day-after-Thanksgiving game against Montreal, which I attended in person. I think a loss in literally the last second of overtime might be the most anti-climactic way for a game to end. So let's just try to avoid that, okay guys?
Hopefully more to come before the weekend's over, but I'm enjoying being home, so I'm not going to promise anything.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Tomorrow I actually get to watch a game for the first time in about a month! I'm so excited! I just hope it turns out differently than last year's day-after-Thanksgiving game against Montreal, which I attended in person. I think a loss in literally the last second of overtime might be the most anti-climactic way for a game to end. So let's just try to avoid that, okay guys?
Hopefully more to come before the weekend's over, but I'm enjoying being home, so I'm not going to promise anything.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Ding Dong the Play is Dead (And the Sabres are Alive Again)
Okay, Sabres, you're done losing now. Things were rough there for a bit, I know, but now everything should be all right again, see, because the cause of that terrible slump you were going through won't be a problem anymore. I'll explain.
The Sabres' recent losing streak was so bad that everyone seemed to have their own theories about what was going wrong. After a while it became apparent that they weren't just playing bad hockey or turning in half an effort, rather they seemed legitimately cursed. But by what? Top Shelf's Heather B. considered the fact that she'd had her Derek Roy wallpaper up for too long, but ultimately decided that this one was all on the Hockey Gods, while The Willful Caboose's Katebits started to get curious about Ryan Miller's conduct around the Cup that his baby brother brought home over the summer. But I don't think it was any of those things. I believe the Sabres were cursed, just like everything else in my life, by this godforsaken play I was in.
At first I thought my boys were just being considerate. They knew it would only deepen my homicidal rage coming home from rehearsal to find that I'd missed a really good hockey game as well, so they decided they'd better play like crap and take care of that problem for me. And it worked! I was almost happy to see those early losses, because it meant I wasn't missing out on anything by being trapped in rehearsal. But then things started to change. The Sabres started wanting to win, desperately trying to win, but it just wouldn't happen for them. I stopped being relieved and grateful and started getting frustrated and angry (about five games behind the rest of Sabres fandom) when I came home to loss after loss. And that's when I knew. That's when I knew the losses weren't on purpose, and they weren't coincidence; they were all a part of Lysistrata's never-ceasing campaign to suck all of the fun out of my life.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense: I mean, it had already ruined my moods, my grades, and my social life, why not go after my hockey team as well? But if you're still not swayed, here are some convincing statbits (this is about as statbitty as DH will ever get, so don't get used to it): On nights I didn't have rehearsal or a performance, the Sabres went 5-2-0, with the two losses being the first games against the Islanders--which, let's be honest, they weren't going to win anyway. They just had too many dues to pay for last year. On nights I was stuck on stage, they went 1-8-1 (not including Friday's win against Montreal, which I'll get to in a second). Defense was pretty much a push, as opponents scored 21 and 28 goals in the 7 non-rehearsal and 10 rehearsal nights, respectively, but the effect on the offense was alarming. While I was suffering, the scorers were struggling, managing just 13 goals. They scored more than twice in a game just once, the 4-3 overtime loss to the Lightning, and were shut out three times. Otherwise they piled on 32 goals in three fewer games, including only one instance where they netted fewer than four. That's some pretty persuasive evidence of evil, if you ask me.
But it's all over now, and the Sabres are already getting back on track. I thought their 4-1 win on Friday, before the official end of the curse last night, showed great force of will, especially considering it was one of the most heinously awful nights of the play ever. It seems that already their heads are in the right place and they know what it's going to take to turn their season around. It won't be easy, but I have faith. If they could overcome a curse as powerful as this one on a night like that, they can overcome anything.
Just to be clear, I'm not saying that I personally am some sort of good luck charm. There were a couple of nights in there where I was rehearsal-free, but still missed the game for one reason or another, so I can't take any of the credit. I'm just trying to tell you where you should direct your blame. I'd like to sincerely apologize to everyone--players and fans alike--for ever accepting a role in this show. If I'd known ahead of time how much pain it would cause, I never would have done it. I'll do my best to make sure it won't happen again.
But beware Sabres. Your excuse is gone. Any losses from here on out? They're all on you.
It's good to be back!
The Sabres' recent losing streak was so bad that everyone seemed to have their own theories about what was going wrong. After a while it became apparent that they weren't just playing bad hockey or turning in half an effort, rather they seemed legitimately cursed. But by what? Top Shelf's Heather B. considered the fact that she'd had her Derek Roy wallpaper up for too long, but ultimately decided that this one was all on the Hockey Gods, while The Willful Caboose's Katebits started to get curious about Ryan Miller's conduct around the Cup that his baby brother brought home over the summer. But I don't think it was any of those things. I believe the Sabres were cursed, just like everything else in my life, by this godforsaken play I was in.
At first I thought my boys were just being considerate. They knew it would only deepen my homicidal rage coming home from rehearsal to find that I'd missed a really good hockey game as well, so they decided they'd better play like crap and take care of that problem for me. And it worked! I was almost happy to see those early losses, because it meant I wasn't missing out on anything by being trapped in rehearsal. But then things started to change. The Sabres started wanting to win, desperately trying to win, but it just wouldn't happen for them. I stopped being relieved and grateful and started getting frustrated and angry (about five games behind the rest of Sabres fandom) when I came home to loss after loss. And that's when I knew. That's when I knew the losses weren't on purpose, and they weren't coincidence; they were all a part of Lysistrata's never-ceasing campaign to suck all of the fun out of my life.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense: I mean, it had already ruined my moods, my grades, and my social life, why not go after my hockey team as well? But if you're still not swayed, here are some convincing statbits (this is about as statbitty as DH will ever get, so don't get used to it): On nights I didn't have rehearsal or a performance, the Sabres went 5-2-0, with the two losses being the first games against the Islanders--which, let's be honest, they weren't going to win anyway. They just had too many dues to pay for last year. On nights I was stuck on stage, they went 1-8-1 (not including Friday's win against Montreal, which I'll get to in a second). Defense was pretty much a push, as opponents scored 21 and 28 goals in the 7 non-rehearsal and 10 rehearsal nights, respectively, but the effect on the offense was alarming. While I was suffering, the scorers were struggling, managing just 13 goals. They scored more than twice in a game just once, the 4-3 overtime loss to the Lightning, and were shut out three times. Otherwise they piled on 32 goals in three fewer games, including only one instance where they netted fewer than four. That's some pretty persuasive evidence of evil, if you ask me.
But it's all over now, and the Sabres are already getting back on track. I thought their 4-1 win on Friday, before the official end of the curse last night, showed great force of will, especially considering it was one of the most heinously awful nights of the play ever. It seems that already their heads are in the right place and they know what it's going to take to turn their season around. It won't be easy, but I have faith. If they could overcome a curse as powerful as this one on a night like that, they can overcome anything.
Just to be clear, I'm not saying that I personally am some sort of good luck charm. There were a couple of nights in there where I was rehearsal-free, but still missed the game for one reason or another, so I can't take any of the credit. I'm just trying to tell you where you should direct your blame. I'd like to sincerely apologize to everyone--players and fans alike--for ever accepting a role in this show. If I'd known ahead of time how much pain it would cause, I never would have done it. I'll do my best to make sure it won't happen again.
But beware Sabres. Your excuse is gone. Any losses from here on out? They're all on you.
It's good to be back!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Bucky Misses Me
Hey all! Sorry about all the silence lately, but I'm currently up to my eyeballs in rehearsal for the single most painful show I've ever been involved with. And that's not even considering the fact that it's making me miss out on hockey and blogging. Seriously, don't get me started on all of the things I hate about it, or I'll be here forever. Instead, let me get started (again) on all the things I hate about Bucky Gleason! Yay! (I know I've spent a lot of time complaining about this show if complaining about Bucky Gleason feels like a refreshing change of pace.)
Apparently Bucky misses me, because he wrote an absolute gem for the paper this weekend that he just knew I wouldn't be able to resist. Well, Bucky, what can I say? You got me. You know just what I hate! I'll be brief:
The article starts off okay enough, in that Bucky recognizes that a 5-5 record isn't the end of the world, and he actually manages to use the word "talent" in conjunction with something that rhymes with neither "Schmury" nor "Schmiere." But then there's this: "For all the ESPN plays of the day that fans stored in their memory banks, it was the Sabres' supreme confidence on foreign turf that often gave them a 1-0 lead before the opening faceoff." I'm... kind of handcuffed by how little sense that makes. I think I'll just let it (mis)speak for itself.
Bucky's point about how the Sabres don't scare anyone anymore, particularly on the road, is valid, but he fails to mention how last season started with an October spent scaring the opposition and ended with a post-season spent scaring their fans. Coincidence? The fear probably hurt them more in the end than it helped them last year, and I'd much rather have them playing scared now than in May.
By saying that there's "no need to rehash Chris Drury and Daniel Briere for the umpteenth time," Bucky rehashes Chris Drury and Daniel Briere for the umpteenth time. Well played, sir. He goes on to say that "the first 10 games have shown Buffalo's flaws run deeper than the departures of the former co-captains." I'd argue that they've shown Buffalo's flaws are almost completely unrelated to the departures of the former co-captains, but you know. Six of one...
I find myself agreeing with his "six pack" bullet points, comments about Kalinin and Hecht notwithstanding. Still, it's not exactly groundbreaking stuff. Vanek's not scoring? Our defense is sucking? I sure hope this guy is getting paid for this!
Bucky then "treats" us to his thoughts on some non-Sabres issues, starting with the Rangers:
"Snicker while you can at the New York Rangers, who had just 15 goals in nine games going into the weekend and suffered back-to-back 1-0 losses last week. Unlike the Sabres, their first 10 games were not indicative of trouble. Drury, Jaromir Jagr and Brendan Shanahan had just one goal apiece while newcomer Scott Gomez had two."
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up. What was the number one problem the Sabres are having, again? Oh, that's right. "1. Underachieving stars." So for the Sabres, who have been getting secondary scoring from such non-stars as Pominville, Roy, and Hecht, not to mention a healthy dose of defensive scoring, the disappearance of Vanek and Afinogenov spells disaster. But for the Rangers, who have been shut out three times already this season--once by the Bruins, might I add--the expensive scoring drought is just growing pains? A speed bump? Get outta town, Bucky! (No really.) You can't have your cake and eat it, too; either underachieving stars is a problem, or it isn't. Also, I didn't hear you saying "they're veterans who will come around," when discussing Tallinder and Lydman's recent defensive problems. What, exactly, is the difference?
He goes on for a while about things I don't really care about, but I'm "rewarded" for sticking with him until the end with his take on the Oilers' recent video tribute to the once-captain-now-returning-as-an-Av Ryan Smyth. And if you don't know where this is headed, you're drunk. Sure enough: "Just wondering if the Sabres have anything similar planned for Drury and Briere." Seriously? Seriously? Look, setting aside the fact that I think it was ridiculous that the Oilers did that in the first place, Smyth had at least played eleven seasons with them before fucking off. Drury and Briere didn't play that many seasons as Sabres put together. I get that they did great things here, and everyone loved them, and there are a lot of great memories (I mean, think of all those Cups they brought us! Wait...), but Bucky. Get over it. They just weren't that into us. There's no need to go embarrassing ourselves trying to tell them how much we "miss" them. It's (been) time to move on. Furthermore, Sabres management: just, no. If this happens I may have to fly home just so I can puke ceremoniously right in the middle of it. Because I'm going to puke either way, and I'd rather have you clean up the mess.
Whew! I know I said I'd be brief, but that felt way too good. Too much pent-up aggression, I guess. Less than three weeks until this cursed play is over! (And then I'll get back to actually writing about the Sabres, and not just Bucky Gleason, I promise.)
Apparently Bucky misses me, because he wrote an absolute gem for the paper this weekend that he just knew I wouldn't be able to resist. Well, Bucky, what can I say? You got me. You know just what I hate! I'll be brief:
The article starts off okay enough, in that Bucky recognizes that a 5-5 record isn't the end of the world, and he actually manages to use the word "talent" in conjunction with something that rhymes with neither "Schmury" nor "Schmiere." But then there's this: "For all the ESPN plays of the day that fans stored in their memory banks, it was the Sabres' supreme confidence on foreign turf that often gave them a 1-0 lead before the opening faceoff." I'm... kind of handcuffed by how little sense that makes. I think I'll just let it (mis)speak for itself.
Bucky's point about how the Sabres don't scare anyone anymore, particularly on the road, is valid, but he fails to mention how last season started with an October spent scaring the opposition and ended with a post-season spent scaring their fans. Coincidence? The fear probably hurt them more in the end than it helped them last year, and I'd much rather have them playing scared now than in May.
By saying that there's "no need to rehash Chris Drury and Daniel Briere for the umpteenth time," Bucky rehashes Chris Drury and Daniel Briere for the umpteenth time. Well played, sir. He goes on to say that "the first 10 games have shown Buffalo's flaws run deeper than the departures of the former co-captains." I'd argue that they've shown Buffalo's flaws are almost completely unrelated to the departures of the former co-captains, but you know. Six of one...
I find myself agreeing with his "six pack" bullet points, comments about Kalinin and Hecht notwithstanding. Still, it's not exactly groundbreaking stuff. Vanek's not scoring? Our defense is sucking? I sure hope this guy is getting paid for this!
Bucky then "treats" us to his thoughts on some non-Sabres issues, starting with the Rangers:
"Snicker while you can at the New York Rangers, who had just 15 goals in nine games going into the weekend and suffered back-to-back 1-0 losses last week. Unlike the Sabres, their first 10 games were not indicative of trouble. Drury, Jaromir Jagr and Brendan Shanahan had just one goal apiece while newcomer Scott Gomez had two."
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up. What was the number one problem the Sabres are having, again? Oh, that's right. "1. Underachieving stars." So for the Sabres, who have been getting secondary scoring from such non-stars as Pominville, Roy, and Hecht, not to mention a healthy dose of defensive scoring, the disappearance of Vanek and Afinogenov spells disaster. But for the Rangers, who have been shut out three times already this season--once by the Bruins, might I add--the expensive scoring drought is just growing pains? A speed bump? Get outta town, Bucky! (No really.) You can't have your cake and eat it, too; either underachieving stars is a problem, or it isn't. Also, I didn't hear you saying "they're veterans who will come around," when discussing Tallinder and Lydman's recent defensive problems. What, exactly, is the difference?
He goes on for a while about things I don't really care about, but I'm "rewarded" for sticking with him until the end with his take on the Oilers' recent video tribute to the once-captain-now-returning-as-an-Av Ryan Smyth. And if you don't know where this is headed, you're drunk. Sure enough: "Just wondering if the Sabres have anything similar planned for Drury and Briere." Seriously? Seriously? Look, setting aside the fact that I think it was ridiculous that the Oilers did that in the first place, Smyth had at least played eleven seasons with them before fucking off. Drury and Briere didn't play that many seasons as Sabres put together. I get that they did great things here, and everyone loved them, and there are a lot of great memories (I mean, think of all those Cups they brought us! Wait...), but Bucky. Get over it. They just weren't that into us. There's no need to go embarrassing ourselves trying to tell them how much we "miss" them. It's (been) time to move on. Furthermore, Sabres management: just, no. If this happens I may have to fly home just so I can puke ceremoniously right in the middle of it. Because I'm going to puke either way, and I'd rather have you clean up the mess.
Whew! I know I said I'd be brief, but that felt way too good. Too much pent-up aggression, I guess. Less than three weeks until this cursed play is over! (And then I'll get back to actually writing about the Sabres, and not just Bucky Gleason, I promise.)
Saturday, October 13, 2007
A Letter of Apology
Dear Jaroslav Spacek,
I think I may owe you an apology. All last season, I was way too hard on you, and I'm sorry. I mean sure, you didn't come close to earning that $3 million: you were the only Sabre without a single point in the playoffs, before this season the last goal you scored was in 2006, and your defensive play often left me just praying that you would injure yourself. But apparently taking point shots on the power play is your bread and butter, and it was really unfair of me to expect you to produce while you were being deprived of your bread and butter. This season has already been an entirely different story, as you've logged lots of time on the power play, turning it into 4 goals and 6 points in 4 games. Keep that up and I might have to pull an Earl Sleek and vow to name my daughter Jaroslav to make up for all my shameless taunting! (Okay, that was a joke, Jaro. I know I'm apologizing, here, but I'm not that cruel.) For now, I would like to present you with these cinnamon buns, the universal symbol of excessive but heartfelt apology:
Keep up the good work!
Love,
Gambler
PS Keep doing those interviews, too, and when you do, please use the phrase "it's my bread and butter" as much as possible. It's hi-larious!
I think I may owe you an apology. All last season, I was way too hard on you, and I'm sorry. I mean sure, you didn't come close to earning that $3 million: you were the only Sabre without a single point in the playoffs, before this season the last goal you scored was in 2006, and your defensive play often left me just praying that you would injure yourself. But apparently taking point shots on the power play is your bread and butter, and it was really unfair of me to expect you to produce while you were being deprived of your bread and butter. This season has already been an entirely different story, as you've logged lots of time on the power play, turning it into 4 goals and 6 points in 4 games. Keep that up and I might have to pull an Earl Sleek and vow to name my daughter Jaroslav to make up for all my shameless taunting! (Okay, that was a joke, Jaro. I know I'm apologizing, here, but I'm not that cruel.) For now, I would like to present you with these cinnamon buns, the universal symbol of excessive but heartfelt apology:
Keep up the good work!
Love,
Gambler
PS Keep doing those interviews, too, and when you do, please use the phrase "it's my bread and butter" as much as possible. It's hi-larious!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Now THAT'S More Like It!
Sorry for the radio silence over opening weekend, folks, but I was just working on being the least professional Sabres blogger I can possibly be. That, and my parents were in town for Macalester's Family Fest Weekend, and I figured I owed them my undivided attention, especially considering they got in about 18 hours after they were scheduled to, due to the cancellation and delay problems that seem to curse travel attempt between BUF and MSP made by my family. (Let's just say that when my parents tried to make this same trip last October, there was a bit of a, uh, "snow issue.") It was, as always, a blast hanging out with them, and I got in some well-needed hockey socializing. Too bad it wasn't the best hockey. I'm not going to get in-depth with my analysis, especially since I didn't see the whole of either game, but I think the word sloppy pretty much covers it. But I wasn't alarmed, or even terribly upset by the losses. I am just so goddamn glad to have hockey back! (Also, I assure you that, as bad as the Sabres looked, listening to the Islanders' broadcast team was at least a hundred times worse. I think it was all summed up when the color guy announced "It's Islanders 6, Buffalo 4 here, and that's about all the analysis I can do!" Unfortunately, he then went on to try to do some analysis and came up with, "It's old-time hockey!" Riiiight.)
Last night, through some astounding miracle, I had the night off from rehearsal, and got to enjoy the game using my uncle's Slingbox. It's grainier and less reliable than Center Ice Online, but it's free (for me, anyway) and it gets the job done. Plus I'm guaranteed to get the Sabres announcers that way, and I don't have to worry about wanting to pull my hair out. Some things about the game:
- Obviously the major highlight was the special teams. Wow. I was at class during the first period, so I missed all the power play scoring, but still. I was utterly shocked to turn on my computer and see a power play that actually resembled a power play. We not only gained the zone, but held it, creating genuine scoring chances instead of just passing aimlessly. Whether this trend will continue, especially as we begin to face more aggressive PKs, remains to be seen, but at least the guys have proven to me they remember what a power play is. By the way, all the people bitching about Goose being on the power play (I'll admit I was a little skeptical), notice the three solid screens he set for those three first-period goals. The penalty kill was perfect, not nearly as jittery as we're used to seeing it at home, and Pommer's shorthanded goal was the result of pure tenacity from him and Roy. Just all-around encouraging, and should be a good confidence booster for the guys.
- The defense was much improved. Kalinin and Spacek both put in strong performances, I thought, and Hank and Toni were back to their reliable selves. It's not like Atlanta had a particularly potent offense going, but everything seems to be back on track here.
- Offense was never our problem, but they continued getting the job done last night. Connolly was a beast, and I'm inclined to believe the predictions that he'll have us saying "Danny who?" by the end of the season, provided he can stay off IR. Roy was also looking good, especially when he scored a goal while falling down. The only thing that worried me was the disappearance of Vanek. On the one hand, when you manage to score 6 goals without the guy you're paying $10 million showing up on the score sheet it's always heartening, but on the other hand, you're still paying $10 million for a guy to not show up on the score sheet. But it's early yet. He'll figure it out.
- I'm just not going to get used to not hearing Jim Lorentz's voice anytime soon. I'd never really watched Hockey Night in Canada before, so I haven't had much contact with Harry Neale, and I was trying to keep an open mind. But after tonight I think it's safe to say the relationship is already souring. It started when he tried to make the point that the Thrashers are the only team in the league with no North American letter wearers, like he didn't remember what team he was calling for. Luckily Rob Ray set him straight with a timely "What about the Sabres?" but Neale just continued to dig his hole deeper by contesting that Hecht, Lydman, and Tallinder are only captains of the month, and therefore apparently don't count. Grrrr. (Incidentally, one of the most entertaining parts of the game was hearing Rayzor detailing his smack-down of Neale to one "Joe," when his mic randomly cut in during the broadcast. Hilarious!)
- This was incredibly sweet:
I'm rehearsal-free tomorrow night, too, and I'm looking forward to seeing how we stand up to a the hot squad of Capitals. Hockey's back!
Last night, through some astounding miracle, I had the night off from rehearsal, and got to enjoy the game using my uncle's Slingbox. It's grainier and less reliable than Center Ice Online, but it's free (for me, anyway) and it gets the job done. Plus I'm guaranteed to get the Sabres announcers that way, and I don't have to worry about wanting to pull my hair out. Some things about the game:
- Obviously the major highlight was the special teams. Wow. I was at class during the first period, so I missed all the power play scoring, but still. I was utterly shocked to turn on my computer and see a power play that actually resembled a power play. We not only gained the zone, but held it, creating genuine scoring chances instead of just passing aimlessly. Whether this trend will continue, especially as we begin to face more aggressive PKs, remains to be seen, but at least the guys have proven to me they remember what a power play is. By the way, all the people bitching about Goose being on the power play (I'll admit I was a little skeptical), notice the three solid screens he set for those three first-period goals. The penalty kill was perfect, not nearly as jittery as we're used to seeing it at home, and Pommer's shorthanded goal was the result of pure tenacity from him and Roy. Just all-around encouraging, and should be a good confidence booster for the guys.
- The defense was much improved. Kalinin and Spacek both put in strong performances, I thought, and Hank and Toni were back to their reliable selves. It's not like Atlanta had a particularly potent offense going, but everything seems to be back on track here.
- Offense was never our problem, but they continued getting the job done last night. Connolly was a beast, and I'm inclined to believe the predictions that he'll have us saying "Danny who?" by the end of the season, provided he can stay off IR. Roy was also looking good, especially when he scored a goal while falling down. The only thing that worried me was the disappearance of Vanek. On the one hand, when you manage to score 6 goals without the guy you're paying $10 million showing up on the score sheet it's always heartening, but on the other hand, you're still paying $10 million for a guy to not show up on the score sheet. But it's early yet. He'll figure it out.
- I'm just not going to get used to not hearing Jim Lorentz's voice anytime soon. I'd never really watched Hockey Night in Canada before, so I haven't had much contact with Harry Neale, and I was trying to keep an open mind. But after tonight I think it's safe to say the relationship is already souring. It started when he tried to make the point that the Thrashers are the only team in the league with no North American letter wearers, like he didn't remember what team he was calling for. Luckily Rob Ray set him straight with a timely "What about the Sabres?" but Neale just continued to dig his hole deeper by contesting that Hecht, Lydman, and Tallinder are only captains of the month, and therefore apparently don't count. Grrrr. (Incidentally, one of the most entertaining parts of the game was hearing Rayzor detailing his smack-down of Neale to one "Joe," when his mic randomly cut in during the broadcast. Hilarious!)
- This was incredibly sweet:
I'm rehearsal-free tomorrow night, too, and I'm looking forward to seeing how we stand up to a the hot squad of Capitals. Hockey's back!
Friday, September 28, 2007
Gambler's Hard-Hotting Preseason Analysis
With the new season bearing steadily but slowly (this last week will take forever, mark my words) down upon us, I think it’s time I turn my attention, as most bloggers do at this time, to the important business of showcasing what lies ahead for my team. Now I know many a more serious hockey blogger than I will be going over the Sabres’ key losses and additions this off-season (well, the losses anyway), predicting who will step up, where the points will come from, and how we will fare compared to the rest of the division, conference, and league. All across Sabres fandom, people want to know, “How good will we be?” But there’s an equally-important question that I think most people won’t be addressing, though many people might be wondering: “How hot will we be?” And that’s where I come in. (Forgive me.)
Okay, forget Drury and Briere. (Please, please forget them.) In terms of hotness, those losses were minor compared to the great crimes committed by this organization over the past two years. I remember thinking, as the camera panned down the line of Sabres during the pre-game anthems of the 2006 Eastern Conference Finals, “If that is not the prettiest team in all of sports, I’ll eat my hat.” (Of course, that could have had a little to do with the fact that when I was treated to the same view of the Hurricanes, all I could think was, “Dear Lord, what threw up on Rod Brind’Amour, and how can I keep it from coming after me, too?”) Since then, major puzzle pieces of the pretty like Taylor Pyatt, JP Dumont, Mike Grier, Jay McKee, and Marty Biron have walked out the door, and we’ve let replacement back-up hottie Ty Conklin and subtle supermodel Dainius Zubrus slip through our fingers as well, with their true hotness potential barely realized. And who’s been brought in to offset all of these losses? Jaroslav Spacek. Pa-thetic. Between this and the recent suspension of Teppo Numminen, it’s like the Sabres don’t want to be hot, despite their shameless assumption of billboard-sized glamour shots as a marketing strategy. But in the end, how do all of these losses shake out? Where are we left? Well, let’s take a look, on a player-by-player basis:
(Note: I’ve arbitrarily decided that an official nickname is required in order to be included in this most prestigious hard-hotting analysis. As you’ll notice, some are generally known and widely-used, others are recognizable only if you know which are the cool parts of the internet to hang out in, and the rest were all made up in my head, for my own enjoyment. Please excuse the crazy.)
#5 Toni “TMT” Lydman Toni is like a mystery, wrapped in a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in my mom’s haircut. Just when I think I know what he looks like, he goes and changes it up on me. He definitely doesn’t scream hot (I'm not 100% sure that second picture really is him), but I have to give him credit for his fashion fearlessness.
#6 Jaroslav “Jarlsberg Swiss” Spacek Considering I gave him this nickname when I decided that his head bears a striking resemblance to a cube of cheese, the answer here is definitely not hot. Although his interviews, wherein he takes on the English language with all the speed and destructive force of a tornado, almost make up the difference.
#9 Derek “Dr Jesus” Roy By all rights, Roy, definitely shorter than his listed 5’9”, should be in the “cute as a button” category, living out his days as the imaginary tenant of fans’ pockets. But no, Derek is hot. The kind of hot that makes you want to use names like “punk,” “asshole,” and “bastard" affectionately. He’s a pretty boy who certainly knows it, cocky and mouthy, but somehow in a way that only enhances his attractiveness instead of putting you off. You’d never admit to actually liking this type of hot, but that doesn’t mean you can help it whenever you find yourself drawn in by it. (Don’t worry, you can just pretend you’re staring at his awesome silver skates instead.)
#10 Henrik “Tally” Tallinder Long, lean, and the image of grace on skates, Hank brings the classy-hot to the Sabres lineup. In addition to typically Scandanavian good looks and a jaw line stolen from a top fashion magazine, he has an easy smile, and an adorable set of dimples. More importantly, his hotness seems subtle enough to fly under the radar of the more, shall we say, singularly boy-crazy set of fans. The only downside to Hank is that he’s so prone to injury that his Tally-Hos are often required to go long stretches without seeing his hotness in motion. And the withdrawal symptoms, I’m told, can be quite damaging.
#12 Ales “Super Freak” Kotalik Last spring I was procrastinatingly cruising Facebook in lieu of writing a paper, when I stumbled upon the group titled “... and on the Seventh Day, God Created Daniel Radcliffe and Ales Kotalik.” For a moment, my world stood completely still. Confronted with evidence that such a group actually exists—and worse, has members (more than one!)—my brain didn’t know where to start laughing first. Okay, declaring your love for a 17-year-old kid who will one day be 40 and still best known as a children’s book character is one thing. Simultaneously (and irrelevantly) declaring your love for an NHL player is another. But having that NHL player be Al Kotalik? Really? Her? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like Super Freak looks like a pile of puke, but when he’s playing like a pile of puke, who has time to notice? To his credit, he would look completely at home in a period film about the 19th century, which as everyone knows was the century of hot. Unfortunately for him, though, he would probably be playing the high-brow politico character that the female lead desperately doesn’t want to marry, and would be therefore way less hot than the actual love interest, and no one would notice him. Sorry, Al.
#19 Tim “Timbit” Connolly Timmy has a face as round and doughy as the donut I’ve nicknamed him for. It’s a good thing chipmunk cheeks, overlarge teeth, and slightly inbred facial features suit him, otherwise we’d have two very good reasons to want to see him in a visor. As it stands, he definitely gets top marks for looks, if not for smarts. Seriously Timmy, tighten the chinstrap, get a mouth guard, and for God’s sake keep your head up. Vegetables are never hot.
#20 Daniel “Shovel” Paille I’ve never noticed whether or not Paille is hot, so must be he’s not. (I’d make a great investigatory journalist.)
#21 Drew “Staffy Stomp!” Stafford Staffy’s alluring perma-scowl and strangely beguiling unibrow bring the term “ugly hot” to a whole new level. Seriously, he has the kind of face that could give small children nightmares, while still somehow managing a certain appeal. I think if he were a contestant on America’s Next Top Model, he would be the “fierce” and “edgy” one, the one who wins Tyra’s praise week in and week out, until it comes time to shoot the Cover Girl commercial, and his look is revealed for the train wreck that it is. Sorry, Staffy, but you’re just not easy, breezy, or beautiful. You’d best stick to hockey.
#22 Adam “Scud” Mair Mair’s hotness has nothing to do with Top Model. It has, shockingly, everything to do with hockey. In a state of perfect health, though there are many other things I love about him, Mair’s not much too write home about in the looks department. With rugged, masculine features, he’s certainly not unattractive—just ordinary looking. But get him a little bruised and banged up (as he is wont to do in his line of work), and he becomes a veritable fountain of sexiness. He proves that the purple blossom of a black eye or the scarlet trickle from a minor temporal gash can be the perfect accessory for the hockey player looking to up his hot status. I salute you, Bloody Mairsy, for making looking like shit look so good.
#26 Thomas “BK Lounge” Vanek Vanek can look like this. Unfortunately, most of the time he looks like this. It’s a shame, really. (But, hey, apparently it could be worse.) He may have led the league in +/- last year, but his hotness level sticks resolutely to zero, neither here nor there, adding very little to this conversation.
#27 Teppo “Teppoware” Numminen Okay, I’ll admit I was once part of the “Ew, Teppo” camp, but only because I was so blinded by his branding as an ancient old man that I never actually took the time to look at him. But once I did, it is safe to say I ew-ed no more. Teppo Numminen is an undeniably sexy beast. He takes the kind of adjectives usually reserved for old-fashioned movie stars, like “suave” and “debonair,” and brings them to life for a new generation. I wish him a speedy—but complete!—recovery from his recently successful open-heart surgery, so that he can get back to playing like a leader on the ice, and looking like a model off it.
#28 Paul “Goose” Gaustad Goose looks like what every girl grew up dreaming her prom date would look like. He’s classically handsome in a non-threatening, boy-next-door kind of way, but avoids the curse of being too pretty, in part by punching guys like Alex Ovechkin in the face. On top of this, he wears glasses and records PSAs about reading. Pretty, sensitive, but still tough, Goose can do no wrong.
#29 Jason “Pommerdoodle” Pominville Pommerdoodle is like the Justin Timberlake of the Sabres. (Not to be confused with the Justin Timberlake of the Kings.) From a purely aesthetic standpoint, I understand that he’s hot, but personally he just doesn’t do it for me. Maybe it’s the fact that he shares most of his fanbase with Fall Out Boy, or that a summer spent at Interchangeable Parts has left me irrevocably associating him with a labradoodle puppy, or that my mom—my mom!—has had a picture of him hanging in our kitchen for the past year, but I’m just not going to be jumping on the Pommer wagon anytime soon. But, if that’s your style, I’ll grant it’s a legitimate wagon to be on. Unless you’re my mom.
#30 Ryan “Crunchy” Miller How Miller managed to gain a devoted following of swooning adolescent girls is one of the great mysteries of the universe. He looks, as Margee from SportSquee so brilliantly put it, like the love child of a Picasso and a Dali. But I suppose if emaciated hipster guys with womanly locks and crooked faces are your personal definition of hot (which, for my sister, happens to be true), then it doesn’t really get any hotter than Crunchy.
#35 Jocelyn “T-Bone” Thibault Coming off a long period of employing the ever-sexy and eternally lovable Marty Biron, the Sabres have a recent history with hot back-up goaltenders. T-Bone seems ready to carry on the tradition. I haven’t really seen anything of him besides his roster photo, but he shows definite promise.
#38 Nathan “Patches” Paetsch I’m really looking forward to watching Patches grow into his hotness this year. All the elements are at his disposal—a nice smile, large puppy-ish eyes, and an expression of general intensity out on the ice. He just needs to start owning it, and learn to stay away from the scarecrow hair.
#45 Dmitri “Tri” Kalinin Intensely shy and eternally too unsure of his English skills to do many interviews, Tri lacks the required confidence that is the cornerstone of any hotness, regardless of physical appearance. He does, however, have the Sabres market on sorrowful adorableness cornered. It can be explained by a simple series of mathematical correlations: As Kalinin’s on-ice inconsistencies approach infinity, the griping from Sabres fandom also approaches infinity. As the griping approaches infinity,
#51 Brian “Soupy”
#55 Jochen “Yo-Yo” Hecht I’m ashamed to admit that I overlooked the hot side of Yo-Yo for far too long, even after I found the courage to declare him my favorite Sabre. His is a subtle hotness. It doesn’t necessarily jump out at you, but it doesn’t disappoint, either. He doesn’t have some of the hit-or-miss inconsistencies, or the vain, preening qualities to which some of his teammates fall victim. His simple variety of handsomeness is alternately sweet and steamy, but always on the mark.
#61 Maxim “Max” Afinogenov What Max lacks in creative nicknames, he makes up for in Faye Dunaway impressions. I'm sure he’s very comforted by the fact that long after his career in the NHL is over, he’ll be able to keep putting food on the table as a celebrity impersonator in Vegas. What I’m getting at here, in case you couldn’t tell, is that Max has a very delicate, almost feminine bone structure. And, while it certainly sets him apart from the average Joe, it doesn’t quite make him hot, instead landing him somewhere in the neutral quagmire between “striking” and “interesting-looking.” (Which everyone knows are just fancy ways of saying “not hot.”) All that goes out the window, though, the second he opens his mouth. In an acoustic embodiment of sex, Max speaks with a deep tonal quality that it seems can’t possibly be his own, the smoothness of a chocolate milkshake poured over velvet, and a Russian accent that will undress you where you stand. He doesn’t do interviews terribly often, but when he does, beware: he takes no prisoners.
#76 Andrew “Gund” Peters Peters looks as plush and cuddly as a Gund Bear, and is about as useful on the ice. Under no circumstances should he be considered hot, but certain fans, it seems, won’t let that stop them.
Conclusion: Surprisingly, if I were actually professional enough to do a real season preview, wherein I discuss these guys’ potential talent instead of (or more probably in addition to) their looks, I think this post would still be ending the same way: We may not be on top anymore, but we’ve still got it. Go Sabres!
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Fantasy Hockey
Kevin over at BfloBlog said today that there is nothing in the universe more boring than reading about a blogger's fantasy team. Well, I'm not the type of blogger who'll let a statement like that pass by untested. By which I mean, I'm a boring blogger. So, get ready to hear about my fantasy teams!
Recently, the experiment in fantasy hockey known as the IPB Superleague got underway with its draft. The point of this league (and it's less-fabulous sister league, the Amazingleague), besides the obvious smack talking possibilities, is to familiarize fans of one conference with players from the other. I'm certainly no expert even on the Eastern Conference, so I could really use this education, especially living in a WC city. Here's my team, It Just... Team:
Joe Thornton (C)
Jonathan Toews
Andrew Brunette
Ryan Smyth
Milan Michalek
Brian Rolston (A)
Dion Phaneuf (A)
Kevin Bieksa
Brett Clark
Mattias Ohlund
Mike Modano
Alexander Radulov
Fredrik Modin
Miikka Kiprusoff
Niklas Backstrom
Ilya Bryzgalov
I'm reasonably excited about this line-up, even though there are a few guys there I've never heard of. (Bryzgalov was a last-minute pick-up when the guy I originally had drafted from Phoenix was sent back to the AHL. There were few WC goaltenders left at that point, and I knew next to nothing about any of them. Bryz may not have been the best available option, but lord knows I love me some chatty back-up goaltenders, and since the team name is a tribute to him, I figured I owed him that much. Welcome to the fold, Breezy!) I seem to have achieved what I've decided is my trifecta of fantasy hockey desirables: 1) they're roughly talented, 2) I'm not morally opposed to them and all they stand for (I'm ignoring the general squickyness that seems to follow Ryan Smyth wherever he goes), and 3) they're acceptably hot (hello, Andrew Brunette and Milan Michalek!). We'll see how it all pans out.
I also joined another, non-conference-restricted league, partly to keep my jealousy of the other Superleaguers allowed to have Sabres and other ECers to a minimum, and partly to help take my brother's mind off the kind of shitty month he's been having. Well, the latter may have worked out, but the former backfired on me somewhat. Meet the Christ Punchers:
Jason Spezza
Marc Savard
Henrik Zetterberg
Alexander Frolov
Jarome Iginla
Drew Stafford (C)
Nicklas Lidstrom
Sheldon Souray
Dion Phaneuf (A)
Bryan McCabe
Daniel Alfredsson
Patrick Marleau (A)
Slava Kozlov
Roberto Luongo
Marty Turco
Jean-Sebastien Giguere
As you can see, my goal to get more EC guys kind of failed, and with the inclusion of Spezza, Alfredsson, and McCabe, #2 of my fantasy hockey desirables went completely out the window. There are only three other teams in the league (run by my brother and two of his friends), so talent is spread pretty thick, and I'm afraid that if I follow my heart and dump these guys for one of the leftovers, I'm pretty much guaranteeing myself the bottom feeder spot. Time will tell if anyone is willing to make me any kind of trade. In the meantime, I'm really psyched about that goaltending.
Recently, the experiment in fantasy hockey known as the IPB Superleague got underway with its draft. The point of this league (and it's less-fabulous sister league, the Amazingleague), besides the obvious smack talking possibilities, is to familiarize fans of one conference with players from the other. I'm certainly no expert even on the Eastern Conference, so I could really use this education, especially living in a WC city. Here's my team, It Just... Team:
Joe Thornton (C)
Jonathan Toews
Andrew Brunette
Ryan Smyth
Milan Michalek
Brian Rolston (A)
Dion Phaneuf (A)
Kevin Bieksa
Brett Clark
Mattias Ohlund
Mike Modano
Alexander Radulov
Fredrik Modin
Miikka Kiprusoff
Niklas Backstrom
Ilya Bryzgalov
I'm reasonably excited about this line-up, even though there are a few guys there I've never heard of. (Bryzgalov was a last-minute pick-up when the guy I originally had drafted from Phoenix was sent back to the AHL. There were few WC goaltenders left at that point, and I knew next to nothing about any of them. Bryz may not have been the best available option, but lord knows I love me some chatty back-up goaltenders, and since the team name is a tribute to him, I figured I owed him that much. Welcome to the fold, Breezy!) I seem to have achieved what I've decided is my trifecta of fantasy hockey desirables: 1) they're roughly talented, 2) I'm not morally opposed to them and all they stand for (I'm ignoring the general squickyness that seems to follow Ryan Smyth wherever he goes), and 3) they're acceptably hot (hello, Andrew Brunette and Milan Michalek!). We'll see how it all pans out.
I also joined another, non-conference-restricted league, partly to keep my jealousy of the other Superleaguers allowed to have Sabres and other ECers to a minimum, and partly to help take my brother's mind off the kind of shitty month he's been having. Well, the latter may have worked out, but the former backfired on me somewhat. Meet the Christ Punchers:
Jason Spezza
Marc Savard
Henrik Zetterberg
Alexander Frolov
Jarome Iginla
Drew Stafford (C)
Nicklas Lidstrom
Sheldon Souray
Dion Phaneuf (A)
Bryan McCabe
Daniel Alfredsson
Patrick Marleau (A)
Slava Kozlov
Roberto Luongo
Marty Turco
Jean-Sebastien Giguere
As you can see, my goal to get more EC guys kind of failed, and with the inclusion of Spezza, Alfredsson, and McCabe, #2 of my fantasy hockey desirables went completely out the window. There are only three other teams in the league (run by my brother and two of his friends), so talent is spread pretty thick, and I'm afraid that if I follow my heart and dump these guys for one of the leftovers, I'm pretty much guaranteeing myself the bottom feeder spot. Time will tell if anyone is willing to make me any kind of trade. In the meantime, I'm really psyched about that goaltending.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
12 to Remember: Buffalo @ Toronto 2/27/07
Whoa, Kevin’s sweaters are switching it up tonight, all crowding over to one side of the screen. I think it’s because they’re so excited to see me again. Aw! I missed you guys, too!
Kevin launches into the epic tale of how everyone and their grandmother was either injured or traded or absent or brain-scrambled for this game, so the Sabres had to make about a million call-ups from
First Period
18:25 There’s some sort of strange tag-team move where Soupy takes Battaglia down behind the net, and Mair piles on top of him for good measure. Despite the blatant pushing, shoving, and squashing,
16:47 Pommer and Roy head in shorthanded, and Derek, as is his nature, ends up sitting on the ice. He still makes a pretty good pass through the crease, though. Hey, I guess if you’re going to fall down (or get taken down) as much as he does, you should at least know what you’re doing once you’re down there. By the way, aside from this moment this penalty kill has been brought to you by suck. (Actually it’s been brought to you by Napa Auto Parts, so don’t ever buy anything from there. It probably sucks.)
16:23 Just as that penalty expires, Vanek goes after Colaiacovo like he’s a particularly delicious baby he wants to kill. Here comes some more Napa-sponsored suck!
15:22 RJ gets inordinately excited about a shorthanded two-on-one that comes to naught when Pommer can’t get it to Tallinder. It takes me a second to get over my shock at the fact that so many Sabres are injured and Hank isn't one of them. This is a joyous occasion.
14:24 Miller, falling, just manages to get his glove up in time to block a shot from Steen in the last second of the penalty. Okay, this penalty kill was a considerable improvement (Miller wasn’t doing ALL the work), but can we please get some shots now?
13:33 After Peters and Gill get shovey along the boards, the players form what looks like a hug train in order to spread calm and peace and the message of love. Aw.
12:46 Lydman saves Millers ass as he blocks a point-blank shot from Sundin in front of a wide-open net. And everyone thought it was only Drury who did that! (Seriously, guys, can we take a shot on net please? At this point I’m not entirely sure Raycroft is down there, that’s how little I’ve seen of him.)
12:17 Vanek obliges, taking a drop pass from MacArthur and getting a nice shot from just outside the circle. He continues to work for the puck in front of the net, and gets a couple more chances before drawing a penalty. It’s after plays like that that I feel really confident about that humongo contract.
10:22
9:19 This time it’s Tallinder who takes excellent care of his out-of-position goaltender by intercepting a pass at the side of the net. Okay,
7:37 It’s so quiet in the ACC that you can hear one, lone guy yelling “Go Leafs Go.” Gotta love those passionate Canadian home crowds.
6:20 Lydman gets a good shot from between the circles (it seems the defense has to do everything around here), and
5:53 Well, I don’t know what I’d get him, but Pominville apparently got him a goal! MacArthur nearly scores on a neat backhand, and Pommer is there to bang in the rebound. Perhaps aware of how enraged and murderous Thomas Vanek gets about new births in Pominville, RJ refrains from announcing that the population has increased.
5:05 Pommer, all excited and wriggly over his recent success, tries to clear the puck in front, but ends up both fanning and falling. Aw, Lindy, who needs kittens when you’ve got this?
3:13 After a great shift by his line on the power play (I know!), Staffy tries to muscle the puck out from under McCabe, who is down on the ice, but ends up getting the entire Leafs team on his back instead.
2:35 You know, I was just wondering where Hecht was in this game! He fancy-skates himself over the line and through some defenders to shoot from the slot. It deflects wide, but that was still a pretty neat play. Alternate captain Yo-Yo is in the house!
0:00 Well, period one has been somewhat underwhelming. I suppose I can cut them some slack, though, what with the absences and the short bench and whatnot. Plus, my from-the-future powers tell me there’s much more to come.
Second Period
20:00 Jim starts off the period by talking about Marty and what a sad atmosphere his departure created with the team. I think this is the part where Briere, watching the game from his hotel room, picks up the phone and leaves his 403rd voicemail comprised entirely of unintelligible sobbing. (And yes, I am making jokes to avoid having to relive the pain of losing Marty. What of it? At least I’m not soothing my heartache by whoring myself out to Philly. Unlike someone I know.)
18:59 Miller leaves his net. Disaster ensues. The only thing surprising about that situation is that Hank was the one who lost the puck, which is what forced Miller to have to dive across his crease like he was sliding into home. Okay, unusually sloppy for Hank, but still: What the hell were you doing all the way over in the corner, Ryan?
18:38
17:21 Someone taps the puck back to the point off of the faceoff, and RJ tells us it is “Vanek or Peters.” Wow. God knows I’m terrible at reading numbers, and that wasn’t exactly a play that required much skill, so I’m not trying to make fun of RJ’s commentating, here. I just think I would be remiss in my duties as a recapper if I let the one moment in all of history when Peters was mistaken for Vanek pass by without proper documentation.
15:50 Hecht makes a gorgeous pass through the goal crease, but Ryan can’t connect on it. I suspect it’s because he had to take that extra second to check and make sure it was
15:43 Hank gets credit for “flattening” Ponikarovsky, when all he really did was sort of lean on him until they both collapsed. It’s like someone was trying to build a house of cards using hockey players, but couldn’t get the first two to stand up properly. It’s… weird.
15:05
12:42 After collecting a shot and sending it up ice, Paetsch is run over by Belak outside the range of the camera. According to RJ, Mair then steps up to lay a little revenge on Belak. MSG, why am I not seeing this? (Instead, I get to see Kaleta completely flip a guy over in the corner, which, admittedly, is cool.)
12:22 As we head to commercial, Mair is chomping his mouth guard on the bench, and it turns out my eyes (and Google video’s pixels) weren’t deceiving me last game: He most definitely has a black eye. And it is wicked. (Reports of eyeliner are, as of yet, unconfirmed.)
11:12 The shot tally tells me that the Sabres only have two shots in this period, while the Leafs have nine. I feel like I’m being lied to.
11:00 After Sundin blocks one of his own team’s shots, Vanek roars in on a breakaway, only to shoot it wide of the net. And I wonder why the shot count seems so low.
8:46 The Leafs spend the better part of two minutes in the Buffalo zone, but don’t manage to get a single shot, or even do anything which requires RJ to say more than “So-and-so has it along the boards/at he blue line/behind the net.” Judging by the way the fans choose this moment to start cheering “Go Leafs Go” with real vigor, I think we’ve finally found the target fanbase for the Buffalo-style power play.
8:01
6:27 Gill steps into Ryan at the blue line. Hey, don’t bite the hand that feeds you,
4:33 Patches looks all kinds of clueless as he stands uselessly in front of the net while
4:12 Sure, of all the players who could have scored, it had to be Ponikarovsky. Listen, Ponikarovsky, your name is fun to say, but way to intense to type. Don’t you have a snappy nickname or something I can use instead? How do you feel about Ponk? (By the way, the last three minutes of play wouldn’t have looked any different if the entire
1:33 Hey, look! The Sabres discover that not only is there more ice down there, there’s another net, too. And they can score on it! After some really neat, precise passing by Hecht’s line (hey, I like the sound of that!), Lydman lets a wrister go from the point, and Hecht, replay shows, deflects it in. The cute part is when Yo-Yo realizes he’s scored and begins to celebrate only to turn around and see everyone congratulating Toni instead. It’s like they’ve never heard of anything as preposterous as Hecht scoring a goal before. In the post-goal huddle, Toni and Yo-Yo engage in adorable “Did I score that, or did you?” antics, and even though Yo-Yo clearly knows the truth, he lets Toni go partake in the bench fist-bump anyway. Aw, how gentlemanly of him.
Third Period
20:00 Jim goes over the list of injured Leafs, and mentions that Darcy Tucker (Hey, he’s out! I was wondering why my eyes hadn’t felt like vomiting yet!) just signed a brand-new extension. Mike Peca, on the other hand, has let the media know how much it has always been his dream to play in Toronto in the year 2008, but only if they get him his extension by the end of the week. And he really means it this time. Not like last week.
18:13
17:50 Kaleta flattens McCabe at the red line, and the crowd inexplicably erupts into cheers. I would say they’re yelling for some sort of penalty, but considering they were just booing McCabe a few seconds ago, it seems more likely that the Sabres’ strategy of wearing their home blue sweaters has tricked them into thinking they’re
15:54 Soupy knocks Stajan down in front of the net, and if there’s any sign of appreciation or outrage from the fans, it’s at catipillar-wearing-slippers-on-shag-carpet levels of audibility. Now it’s like the Sabres’ strategy of wearing their home blue sweaters has made the crowd forget that they were hockey fans in the first place. (The Slug has been known to have that effect.)
15:31 Vanek has his legs taken out from under him in the crease, as he’s about to score on a wide open net no less, and the ref takes a second to make sure that 26 isn’t a 9 before blowing his whistle.
14:37 Apparently Aubin has never heard of anything as preposterous as Hecht scoring a goal either, as he just assumes Yo-Yo is going to pass instead of shoot and leaves the entire short side of the net wide open. This time Hecht fires it in clean and gets the celebration huddle all to himself. By the way, Patches made a fantastic assist pass from the blue line, here.
14:30 RJ reminds us yet again that Briere is out with the flu, and that Hecht is filling in for him at center. Considering all of long-distance phone calls to Philadelphia Danny’s no doubt made by this point in the game, I think it’s more accurate to say he’s out with the Phlu.
12:40
12:24 And of course, Jim says
10:00 Roy pulls some positively Afinogenov-esque moves as he steals the puck, spins, falls to his knees, gets up, loses control, spins again and passes to Vanek right in the goal mouth. Holy cow, that was awesome! But apparently not awesome enough for Vanek to score off of, as Aubin just manages to cover up.
9:52 Dude. Ty Conklin is hot.
9:13 The puck takes a crazy bounce up onto the top of the Sabres net, narrowly missing the open corner. Some Leaf seems to think it’s a good idea to attempt poking the puck off with his stick, before the ref reaches in and grabs it, explaining that God gave humans hands for a reason, and that reason is so that we don’t look like idiots trying to do everything with a hockey stick.
7:52 Staffy does a neat drag through a defender, but his backhand attempt is turned away. Still, it’s so impressive that the crowd thinks they’re
6:40 Hecht’s line (which entails Pommer and Ryan) just did a fantastic job of working the zone in the past minute or so. Yo-Yo in particular had great puck possession and even set up one or two chances for his wingers. I think being a center with a letter suits him perfectly. (Hint, hint, wink, wink, Lindy.)
6:10 MacArthur takes a great pass from Mair, maneuvers past the out-of-play Aubin, and shovels the puck into the open net for his third point of the night. Man, I kind of wish the General could wear that Slug season-long. (And not just because I want an excuse to call him “the General” more often.)
4:15 RJ wants us to know that he’s not making it up when he says that Green passes to White. In a league where European names are butchered and giggled at on a regular basis, leave it to RJ to point out that, hey, white-bread names can sound ridiculous, too!
2:55 MacArthur draws two penalties in an interval of 20 seconds. It seems the General possesses both an enticingly elbowable head and irresistibly trippable ankles. He is a clear asset. (Also, is it just me, or have these teams been incredibly well-behaved tonight? The last penalty seems like it was about four months ago.)
1:00 Listen, Leafs, I know there’s only one minute left in the game, but I’m from the future, and I promise you: If you can just take this game to overtime you will make it to the playoffs. So get going on those five goals! Heh heh heh.
0:00 The game ends in the most anti-climactic of fashions, with the home fans booing robustly, and a pointless face-off after Aubin freezes the puck with just 5 seconds left. But at least it wasn’t a shootout! (And by the way, Leafs, in case you forgot, a shootout would have meant playoffs. Just saying.)
Okay, folks, I think that just about does it for me with these game diaries. I fully intended to go ahead and recap the next game, but I’m pretty burnt out. Especially since the next Game to Remember is against the Leafs again. I mean, there’s only so many times you can make the same “Hey, if only you managed not to surrender that substantial lead in the third period, you’d have been in the playoffs!” joke before it starts getting old. (For you, not for me. I could make those jokes all day long.) Also, real live hockey will be starting up in just over two weeks (!!!), and it will certainly take me longer than that to finish a game diary. I don’t want to live in the past. Anyway, I hope you all have enjoyed reading these as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. They certainly did help this interminable summer pass.
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