Making Fun of Partick Roy

The day of game 4 of the 2008 Stanley Cup finals, our parents came home from an epic garage sale with a box full of hockey. Hiding among the dust was a plastic figurine of Patrick Roy.

Hey, ladies...

Despite our initial reactions (Lindsay didn't want to touch it, and Dad suggested we finally become real men and learn to melt things in the sun with a magnifying glass), because it spent games four and six in the living room in front of the tv (and game five hiding in the basement), it was spared certain death and bodily mutilation based on the fact that it must somehow be a luck talisman.

This hasn't stopped us from subjecting it to deep psychological and emotional torture. Jersey alterations took place sometime between the refrigerator prank and the catnip incident.

I tell you all this, because around our household, this week is known as "Make Fun of Patrick Roy Week", commemorating the time that Patrick Roy got his ass kicked by a midget, then a year later tried to redeem himself by fighting what looked like a fifteen year old boy and still had a hard time just holding his own. Because we think this side-plot to the McCarty/Lemieux battles is hilarious, we'd like to present you with -

Five other things we'd pay to watch Patrick Roy fail to fight:

5. A giant spider

Because who isn't afraid of giant spiders? They're terrifying. Even if you're not afraid of regular-sized spiders, you're scared of giant spiders, just based on the fact that THEY CAN EAT YOU.

4. Al the Octopus

Clearly, Al wins this battle.

3. Unicorns

Yeah, they may look innocent, but those things are out for blood.

2. Valtteri Filppula

I'd say Val winning any fight (especially by executing some sort of flying punch finishing move, as depicted above) would be a stretch, but a minute ago there were unicorns, so I'm going with it.

1. Jimmy Howard and his magnificent face-grabbing glove

They all said I was crazy when I bought this from Hockeytown Authentics last summer, but I knew. Oh, I knew.

Sometime during this photo shoot, my mom came out to see what I was doing and looked ashamed, because I'm 23 years old and was basically spending a Saturday afternoon in the backyard playing with my toys instead of doing something useful with my life, but if just five people read this and laugh once, then it was totally worth it. May the legend of Patrick Roy ride on.

6th place feels good.

Happy 300th game to Patrick Eaves.



At least he can laugh at himself.

We here at Hockeytown Static hope all of you who attended H2H had a really great time. We cried for hours that we couldn't be there. And we would like everyone to know that there's going to be a next year, and we will be there. Plan accordingly.

(Our mother asked us how many people were going. And we learned something that day. We learned how difficult explaining the concept of The 19 was to someone who cares about stupid stuff like math.)

Last night's two points were BIGGER THAN GIGANTOR. Which sort of feels awful to say because, god, how long has it been since it felt good that the Wings were in sixth place in the West?

I don't generally care how the Red Wings win, so long as they're winning, and I think Niklas freaking Kronwall taking the shootout was spectacular. But that being said, I can't believe I sat through three and a half hours of nothing last night. 1st period? Nothing happened. 2nd period? Nothing happened. 3rd period? Nothing happened. Overtime? Nothing happened. I was glad to get to the shootout based purely on the fact that it was getting exponentially more likely that actual goals were going to get scored. And even then, it took five rounds for the pucks to start hitting the back of the net. What the crap.

Because whether you're cheering for your own team or you're groaning in anguish that the opposition's scored, a goal is a chance for you to release the tension you've built up watching the game. I didn't realize how important this was until Bertuzzi scored and the primal scream I let out was less "YAY" and more "FINALLY". The relief even felt good after I yelled at the Predators' shootout goal.

But you know what really feels good? That the Red Wings have been doing so well lately, winning so many games, and playing with such painfully surprising consistency that I've actually started finding things to bitch and moan about immediately following a win. So, dammit Wings, why couldn't you have scored sooner in that game? You're killing me over here.

(You can keep killing me as long as you keep winning.)

WTF Wednesday does Vegas

You know how sometimes, in a situation, you know on a basic level what's going on ("Oh, ok. There's a man in a clown suit at the other end of this parking lot with a falcon on his arm.") but really, you have no idea what the hell is going on?

Well this is Luke Schenn, his younger brother Brayden, and Pavel Datsyuk going out together to watch a Beatles tribute show in Vegas.



I can make an educated guess as to what the circumstances behind this excursion were, but something tells me that even if the cameraman comments with what exactly is going on, I'll still have more "Why?"s than will ever be answered. If not concerning the players involved... then for the producers.

My favorite part might be the end, when they go backstage and one of the performers freaks the hell out. You can see the bewildered panic catch fire in her eyes, of holy crap I just performed for hockey players. It's sort of the same face Lindsay made when she found out Dom Hasek was at her dance recital (long story).

Bahahahaha

After a back-to-back buzzer-beating weekend, I was pretty convinced that the Wings' luck had been all used up and that I would have to sit through the world's most miserable Penguins game I've seen since June, and maybe even ever because at least then I didn't have have to stare at Brian Engblom's mullet during intermission. Though I did have to listen to Pierre Mcguire. It's kind of a lose-lose situation, I guess.

if mcguire and engblom traded hair, my life would pretty much be over

BUT - if the Red Wings are going to keep doing what they just did, I don't really care what network I have to watch it on. They won 3-1, which would have been higher on both sides if both goalies weren't ridiculous (which for Jimmy I was pleasantly surprised and for Fleury I was unpleasantly unsurprised). And speaking of goalies, I'm probably the hundredth person to put this video up, but look me in the eye and honestly tell me you're already sick of watching Howard pull Crosby away from Bertuzzi (which was probably a good thing for Crosby) by his face.



Lindsay got a text message that this was happening, ran away from dance practice to the big screen tv in GV's fieldhouse, right in the middle of a group of kids studying (which made them all leave), and then sat on a table in front of said tv to watch Versus replay it. I'd worry that she's getting a reputation over there as "crazy hockey girl", but it's a big school, so she's probably got another solid year and a half of hijinks left before complete strangers start calling her out on it.

The win has us in 8th spot, four points ahead of Calgary. This is a spectacular day to be a Red Wings fan.

Where was this team four months ago? (don't say "injured")

I'm still not entirely sure how I should react to what happened in the last game, except to flail my arms around and make funny noises, but I don't have any way to record something like that and upload it to the internet, so you'll have to use your imagination. Or you could go visit someone who actually found words to describe the awesomeness.

I also think that Ken Daniels should talk about Wings blogs more often, because as soon as Nightmare on Helm Street was mentioned on air, it seemed like all bloody hell broke loose. That game was equal parts awesome and ridiculous.

Now we have to go from that to watching the Sidney Crosby love parade tonight on Versus. Fun. The last time we played them, we lost in a shootout. Hopefully Zetterberg's "fuck shootouts" mentality carries over from Saturday night.

One point is better than no points

Which is what we were going to get as of five seconds left in the third period.

You saw that, right? The last (literal) second of that game? The spectacularness that was Brian Rafalski tying the game with less than a second left in regulation? How freaking awesome was that! When does that even happen? Holy crap.

But it was just a point, when it could have been two, so I'm still posting the fruits of my third period labor:

HAHAHAHAHA I'VE COME TO CRUSH YOUR DREAMS!!!!!

I don't know. If I were an Oilers fan, and I knew my team had no shot at the playoffs whatsover, I'd want the Red Wings to streak off and MAKE THE CALGARY FLAMES MISS THE PLAYOFFS TOO, but I'm an angry, vindictive bastard, and a Wings fan, so even my imaginings of myself as an Edmonton fan have a pro-Detroit bias.

And hey, tomorrow's a new game.

(If the Wings had just flat out lost this game, I would have only posted that picture, no context, because I thought that would be the most spectacular 200th post to which this blog could ever hope to aspire.)

I bet the Detroit Purple Gang would win sixteen Stanley Cups in a row

In the last week, the Red Wings have managed to climb their way back into the playoffs, and I've noticed my mood has been raising along with the Wing's point total. I'm not really surprised.

As everyone's favorite Brazilian tweeted Thursday night, a very bad thing has taken place. PuckDrawn held a contest for readers to submit "rebranded" jerseys. Doesn't sound like a very big deal? Well then, you clearly haven't witnessed the Detriot Pegasus (yes, DetRIOT. Clever):



Or the Detroit Purple Gang:

That is the most pimptastically awesome fedora I have ever seen, and if Detroit ever changes team names again, it should be to this, and Babcock has to wear one of those things every fricking game.

The Wings (still as the Wings, thank god) play Edmonton next. The Oiler's have this year's dubious distinction of being the first team to be statistically eliminated from the playoffs and I, never having played a team sport and being the spoiled rotten young Wings fan that I am, can only begin to imagine how that must affect the players who still have to play through the final fifteen games of the season knowing there can be no post-season.

And the Red Wings play them twice in the next week.

So the question is - will they, in their despair, lie down and give our team 4 easy points?

Or, having something to prove to the universe, will they proceed to CRUSH OUR DESPERATE HOPES AND DREAMS LIKE DELICATE GLASS FIGURINES IN THE PATH OF AN ANGRY STEAM ROLLER THAT IS ALSO ON FIRE BECAUSE I LIKE THE IMAGERY OF MAGICALLY BURNING CONSTRUCTION EQUIPMENT REPRESENTING THE WAYS IN WHICH HOCKEY CAN UPSET ME?

Um... Let's go Pegasi! Which is the plural of Pegasus. They should stay the Red Wings.

I don't hate the Wild so much when we're beating them

The Red Wings have won every other game since coming back from the Olympic break, which would be great, if the rest of the western conference didn't intend of winning more than that, which apparently they do. *facepalm* *tears* *sadness*

But last night was one of those every other games, so everything was freaking spectacular. Jimmy was good, Franzen was amazing, Kronwall tried to kill everything on skates, and the Red Wings scored five goals. (We like to think it was because we went to the game and it was to make up for the double-home-shut-out ridiculousness we attended in November, but the Hockey Gods probably don't think we're that important.) Toronto even doled out a decision that was in the Red Wings' favor. Freaking spectacular.

Oddly, the only thing that wasn't right with the universe was a brief, un-perfect moment for Nick Lidstrom. At the end of the third period, he missed a pass that sent the puck gliding back towards the Wing's net and the crowd gasped in disbelief and confusion.

I even heard a few "That just happened?!" and "What? That was Lidstrom?! No!" For anybody else it would have been routine to the point of expected, but Nick did it, so it was the end of the universe. And that's why I love both Wings fans and Nick Lidstrom.

On a side note, the end of the month is looming nearer. And that means that Herm to Hockeytown is too. Unfortunately neither of us can make it to the game, but that hasn't stopped us from donating, and it shouldn't stop you either (you can even win some pretty cool stuff).

Final thought of the game: Where has Dan Cleary been? If we send him notes saying "Newfies can't score!!!!!!" will he start proving himself again? Because I miss his awesomeness dearly.

WTF Wednesday

Let's be honest, the Wings need to win games. You know it. I know it. The Red Wings know it. It's starting to get a little critical, and with every loss I sink a little deeper into my pool of unending stress. And I'm not going to make a list of all the areas the Wings need to improve (at the top of which would be "winning games"), because hearing "defensive coverage is lacking" and "goaltending needs improvement" and "[insert name of scapegoat du jour here] needs to break his femur and never play hockey for us again" gets old after a while.

So instead of adding in our own pseudo-analysis to the log-jam, we here at Hockeytown Static have decided to do what (sadly) we do best - strange pictures.

And nothing is stranger than Red Wing goalies (past and present) doing what they do best - weird shit.


I have to start out with an apology that Jimmy Howard hasn't really been under the scrutinizing eye of the hockey paparazzi long enough to incur any pictures on the internet (that have floated by me so far, anyway) weirder than his weird-faced headshot from 2006


unless you think it's weird to see him in an apron, serving angel-hair pasta to homeless people in Grand Rapids.



*****

What's Ty Conklin been up to since he signed with St. Louis?



No, seriously, that's Ty Conklin. It's from the Blues' charity something something casino something, so it's not really all that strange, until you consider the fact that it looks like he grew and trimmed that facial hair especially for the event.

*****

This was real, honest to god cereal you could buy in the store. Steve Yzerman had some too - I think his had marshmallows. Proceeds went to charity.



I never tasted it, but I hear that Chris Osgood's honey nut deliciousness is Sharkie-approved.



OM NOM NOM NOM NOM

*****

And finally we get to the climax, where all the pictures that came before are rendered unnecessary to the point of useless, because Dom Hasek, god bless him, could anchor a wtf Wednesday all by himself:



These are from a photoshoot for a calender in the Czech Republic promoting literacy. It stars his daughter, Dominika, as Pipi Longstocking. And Dom as her... creepy, shirtless, tattooed father.



Here's him getting his make-up applied:



I can't even bring myself to come up with a decent response to this picture, and it's been on my computer since last summer. Just... wtf?

It's not the Arby's Curse - it's the Arby's Conspiracy...

Some scattered thoughts (since lately that's all I seem to be having) on tonight's game:

• Clearly the Red Wings need to sign Darren Helm for 2384873 bajillion years. And then start cloning him so he'll never get injured and never age. Games like this are why Lindsay's sacrificing the first two days of her spring break to own him as a bobblehead.
  

• Over on the other end of the spectrum, Dear Todd Bertuzzi: don't ever do that again. I mean the entire game. Don't ever have a game like that again. Go back to surprising everyone with timely goals and intelligent plays. Please.

• That goal by Datsyuk was the most spectacularly beautiful thing I think I've ever seen.

• Someone in the organization made a swanky deal with Arby's didn't they? A deal which would prevent hat tricks while allowing for a ridiculous amount of advertisement. Today Darren Helm went along with it. Just like the whole club's gone along with it for the better part of two seasons. Everyone except Henrik Zetterberg.

• Which is why I love Henrik Zetterberg. Because Henrik Zetterberg fights The Man.
  

The boys are back in town

Well... they're back in Denver, anyway.

I'm not going to try to do any kind of Olympic wrap-up. Mostly because both Lindsay and I are still trying in vain to figure out how we're supposed to live our lives now that there aren't 8 hours of curling televised a day.

And a little because HOLY CRAP THE RED WINGS ARE PLAYING AGAIN ALSDJFLSKDJF.

And WE HAVE ALL OUR SWEDES BACK.

And HALF OF THOSE SWEDES SCORED GOALS.

amen.

- After literally more than a full year, Andreas Lilja made his triumphant return to NHL ice. I missed him, and his shot-blocking, and (in a sick and twisted sort of way) almost missed his laughably questionable defensive choices. Welcome back, Lils. I'd say start kicking ass, but that's how we lost you in the first place so... just welcome back then.

- I wonder how many Wings fans joined the Pepsi Center faithful in their booing of Todd Bertuzzi every time he touched the puck. (I mean besides Mike Petrella.) (And in case you had no clue what the hell was going on, here's the gist.)

- You know, I don't really feel like it's been a real Red Wings game until there's been at least one goal called off thanks to Homer's ass. (Not that I blame the lack of goal on Homer's ass. I'm pretty sure Kelly Fraser and Craig Anderson were the only people in the universe today who blamed Homer's ass for anything. And you can't really count Fraser, because I'm also pretty sure he blames Homer's ass for everything from flat tires to being out of strawberry ripple ice cream to John F. Kennedy's assassination.)

- Dear Versus: This whole "unfairly using Darren McCarty to make me hate you less" thing? Um... well... it might be working, but that excuses neither your video replay issues, nor your toolishness. But a solid B- for not being NBC. Keep working on it.

Were the Wings perfect tonight? No. Were they healthy, did they get two points, and did they beat the Avs in Colorado? Yes. So I have nothing more to say.