I'd like to bitch and moan about sloppy, inconsistent play right now, but I have a feeling that most of my complaints are just me taking out my unrelated frustrations (it's Monday morning right now, and I'm sacrificing my lunch hour (and risking the very real possibility that someone will walk by and yell at me for not working because they don't know I'm on lunch) to go through and edit this post for spelling errors and comma mistakes (of which there will still probably be three)) on whatever is most readily available, and since I don't have any way of watching the Blackhawks right now (SOMETIMES I TAKE OUT MY IRRATIONAL ANGER BY YELLING AT THAT TEAM FOR NO REASON, ALRIGHT?), it's all getting dumped on bad turnovers and powerplays where the Red Wings have no shots on goal.
Oh my god, last night the Red Wings had a powerplay where there were no shots on goal.
Why?
No, no I'm dwelling on the negative again. At the end of the story, however dismally you want to spin it, the Red Wings won.
And I have to tell you - if they're going to use less-than-stellar play to set up dramatic turnarounds as exciting as last night was, fine. They have my blessing. I can watch Zetterberg and Lidstrom score ridiculous, game-changing goals like that every hour of every day for the rest of my life. More please.
Even though every member of the team left the ice limping, somehow no one got substantially injured. So you can all loosen the knot in your stomach and prepare it for copious amounts of turkey.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
WTF Wednesday
I wanted to bring this to all of you on Sunday, when I heard about it, but Lindsay reminded me that it would be just as WTF on Wednesday. And it is.
By now a few of you have probably caught wind of Toews and Kane's awful, amazing, awful cell phone commercial, maybe via PuckDaddy's play-by-play. If not - here's the gist:
Jonathan Toews is sitting in an outdoor cafe, spies an attractive lady at the next table, then proceeds to take a picture of her hand (don't ask me - I don't keep track of the Blackhawks' kinky fetishes) with his cell phone, and sends it off to his bff Patrick, who I guess has the magical ability to tell how attractive a woman looks just by getting a cameraphone picture of her fingers. He gives Toews the green light to pursue, and cautions him against using the phone's pick-up line app, presumably because Kane wants to keep all the really bad pick-up lines for himself (tell me he doesn't seem the type). The rest of the commercial is one big steaming pile of increasingly mounting awkwardness, that...
I don't know, maybe I'm the only one. Tell me, ladies, if a stranger sidled up to you at a restaurant and had barely said hello before he whipped out his cell phone, laughed, said "I've got one funny friend", and showed you a picture of a different guy sandwiched between two other girls, would you or would you not expect to presently be invited to some sort of orgy? If Jonathan Toews did that to me, I would be running away, quickly, maybe in search of an officer of the law.
Thankfully, someone besides myself saved the video before it was mysteriously taken off Youtube, so you can watch it here. (If it gets removed again, let us know. We've got your back on this one. The world needs to see this.)
Moral of the story: Ladies (or possibly men), if you ever see someone across the room take a picture of your left hand, run. Run quickly.
By now a few of you have probably caught wind of Toews and Kane's awful, amazing, awful cell phone commercial, maybe via PuckDaddy's play-by-play. If not - here's the gist:
Jonathan Toews is sitting in an outdoor cafe, spies an attractive lady at the next table, then proceeds to take a picture of her hand (don't ask me - I don't keep track of the Blackhawks' kinky fetishes) with his cell phone, and sends it off to his bff Patrick, who I guess has the magical ability to tell how attractive a woman looks just by getting a cameraphone picture of her fingers. He gives Toews the green light to pursue, and cautions him against using the phone's pick-up line app, presumably because Kane wants to keep all the really bad pick-up lines for himself (tell me he doesn't seem the type). The rest of the commercial is one big steaming pile of increasingly mounting awkwardness, that...
I don't know, maybe I'm the only one. Tell me, ladies, if a stranger sidled up to you at a restaurant and had barely said hello before he whipped out his cell phone, laughed, said "I've got one funny friend", and showed you a picture of a different guy sandwiched between two other girls, would you or would you not expect to presently be invited to some sort of orgy? If Jonathan Toews did that to me, I would be running away, quickly, maybe in search of an officer of the law.
Thankfully, someone besides myself saved the video before it was mysteriously taken off Youtube, so you can watch it here. (If it gets removed again, let us know. We've got your back on this one. The world needs to see this.)
Moral of the story: Ladies (or possibly men), if you ever see someone across the room take a picture of your left hand, run. Run quickly.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Don't mess with Detroit
If I were asked to list my three most hated things this week, I would say:
1) Spiders
2) Getting asked if I know Eminem when people find out where I live
3) People who live outside the Metro area and insult the city of Detroit.
Three things about life I truly love might be:
1) The corner of 8 Mile and Shadyside
2) Tim Hortons Iced Capps (made with chocolate milk, obviously)
3) When large groups of people band together for a common cause. Especially when it entails some fool gettin' told.
It seems like this happens a couple times every year. A journalist sits down at his laptop, considers the vast, rich landscape of possibilities open to him through which to steer his readers, weighs them against his subject matter, his abilities, and his deadline, and goes the lazy man's route - straight through the heart of every man, woman, and child who feels insulted when Detroit's insulted too. And then those men, women, and children who have internet access assemble to give him the what for.
You might want to read the first couple paragraphs of this sparklingly brilliant work of journalism before continuing. Ahem.
"Muggy with a chance of murder"? How dare he mock southeast Michigan's relentless summer humidity. Until you've lived here, you just don't understand the indignity of watching your carefully flat-ironed coif spring up a frizz-halo three inches in every direction from your head. He's clearly balding. And heartless.
In all honesty though, I write about this because it angers me. Maybe not this specific article per se - Detroit's been jabbed so many times that Tychkowski's jab didn't even penetrate the scar tissue - but the stereotypes his comments stemmed from rouse my ire. Maybe it's because I spend eight months out of the year a school telling people that 8 Mile really isn't that interesting, and is mostly gas stations, used car lots, and strip clubs. Maybe it's because I've personally felt the effects of the auto industry crumbling, watched friends and family members search endlessly for jobs to no avail, and watched as home foreclosures sprung up around my neighborhood like dandelions. True, the city has its problems, we can't ignore that - but to exploit them for a cheap laugh and a catchy anecdote is to cheapen the experiences of everyone who lives in the Detroit-metro area.
Which, ultimately, is what this article amounted to. Tychkowski was trying to draw on a parallel between the crappyness of his team's play and the crappyness of the city of Detroit. It was just a little flourish of rhetoric wordplay. Removed from its geographical context, the turn of phrase is almost clever. He's probably a bit confused why his article has garnered over a hundred comments of angry backlash. I'm not confused. It's because we get judged on vacation when we tell people we're from the Detroit area. Because we get immediately defensive when we see the name of the city at the start of a news article not written by a local publication. And it's because EdmontonSun.com has a comments feature, whereas network sitcoms, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, and the Times Magazine sitting in your doctor's waiting room - all of which have been guilty of laying down the hate on Detroit - do not.
Mickey Redmond was even peeved about this:
Anyway, Tychkowski, you pulled the "lol Detroit sucks" card, and now you're taking the heat for it. I don't know you - you might be a nice guy who feels like a real ass right now (some of those comments had considerably stronger wording than Mickey's), but maybe next time you'll choose your words more carefully. At any rate, you did manage to write one great, succinct, infinitely truthful Detroit-related line the other night - "The Wings are good."
Yes. Yes they are.
1) Spiders
2) Getting asked if I know Eminem when people find out where I live
3) People who live outside the Metro area and insult the city of Detroit.
Three things about life I truly love might be:
1) The corner of 8 Mile and Shadyside
2) Tim Hortons Iced Capps (made with chocolate milk, obviously)
3) When large groups of people band together for a common cause. Especially when it entails some fool gettin' told.
It seems like this happens a couple times every year. A journalist sits down at his laptop, considers the vast, rich landscape of possibilities open to him through which to steer his readers, weighs them against his subject matter, his abilities, and his deadline, and goes the lazy man's route - straight through the heart of every man, woman, and child who feels insulted when Detroit's insulted too. And then those men, women, and children who have internet access assemble to give him the what for.
You might want to read the first couple paragraphs of this sparklingly brilliant work of journalism before continuing. Ahem.
"Muggy with a chance of murder"? How dare he mock southeast Michigan's relentless summer humidity. Until you've lived here, you just don't understand the indignity of watching your carefully flat-ironed coif spring up a frizz-halo three inches in every direction from your head. He's clearly balding. And heartless.
In all honesty though, I write about this because it angers me. Maybe not this specific article per se - Detroit's been jabbed so many times that Tychkowski's jab didn't even penetrate the scar tissue - but the stereotypes his comments stemmed from rouse my ire. Maybe it's because I spend eight months out of the year a school telling people that 8 Mile really isn't that interesting, and is mostly gas stations, used car lots, and strip clubs. Maybe it's because I've personally felt the effects of the auto industry crumbling, watched friends and family members search endlessly for jobs to no avail, and watched as home foreclosures sprung up around my neighborhood like dandelions. True, the city has its problems, we can't ignore that - but to exploit them for a cheap laugh and a catchy anecdote is to cheapen the experiences of everyone who lives in the Detroit-metro area.
Which, ultimately, is what this article amounted to. Tychkowski was trying to draw on a parallel between the crappyness of his team's play and the crappyness of the city of Detroit. It was just a little flourish of rhetoric wordplay. Removed from its geographical context, the turn of phrase is almost clever. He's probably a bit confused why his article has garnered over a hundred comments of angry backlash. I'm not confused. It's because we get judged on vacation when we tell people we're from the Detroit area. Because we get immediately defensive when we see the name of the city at the start of a news article not written by a local publication. And it's because EdmontonSun.com has a comments feature, whereas network sitcoms, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, and the Times Magazine sitting in your doctor's waiting room - all of which have been guilty of laying down the hate on Detroit - do not.
Mickey Redmond was even peeved about this:
"It's completely unnecessary, uncalled for, unrelated to the game of hockey," said Redmond. "If it was an attempt to be humorous, it was a lousy attempt at that. It was not necessary. You're beating up on a city that obviously doesn't need it"
If I used this blog to occasionally disparage against Canada, particularly northern Alberta, I probably wouldn't get publicly told off by the Oilers color guy, which is almost a shame, because our Wikio ratings would go bananas.
Anyway, Tychkowski, you pulled the "lol Detroit sucks" card, and now you're taking the heat for it. I don't know you - you might be a nice guy who feels like a real ass right now (some of those comments had considerably stronger wording than Mickey's), but maybe next time you'll choose your words more carefully. At any rate, you did manage to write one great, succinct, infinitely truthful Detroit-related line the other night - "The Wings are good."
Yes. Yes they are.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Do you know what I love about Henrik Zetterberg?
Everything.
Which is exactly what I loved about the ten seconds following Dan Cleary's goal and the final three seconds of that game.
We haven't posted here in two weeks, and that's unacceptable. When this blog dies, it won't be a slow, languishing death wherein the space between posts gets wider and wider and wider until one day there just aren't anymore. No, if we go, we go with fireworks and explosions and eight page retrospectives and a big drunken party that you'll all be invited to - that's a promise. To keep that promise, I have to sit here tonight and write until I have something resembling a hockey blog assembled.
- The Wings were outplayed for a decent chunk of the game Monday, which was reflected in the score, and the fact that the game went to overtime. This continues a trend. Because it's November, and they're winning most of these games anyway, I feel like I can afford to look the other way for now, and tell myself that everything will work itself out by spring. (I will regret these words eventually.)
- Someone needs to tell Dan Cleary that scoring a goal for his team does not mean that he's in any way obligated to assist the other team in doing the same.
- I'm not sure why Salei decided that jumping on Howard would be in our team's best interests this evening.
- Rafalski made his return in this game. I have no idea how he looked, because my eyes unfocused every time the puck went into our defensive zone.
- Have I mentioned how much I love Henrik Zetterberg?
- Andy Brickley didn't say "tremendous sex" this time, which is always a disappointment.
- The Wings' next game is on Thursday, against the Oilers, again, only this time you don't have to stay up until 2am eastern to catch the end of it.
And because I have nothing more relevant to say, here - have a picture of Wayne Gretzky about to eat his own daughter at a golf tournament. Because the Wings are between games with Phoenix and Edmonton, it's sort of relevant, if you squint, and maybe cross your eyes a little.
Which is exactly what I loved about the ten seconds following Dan Cleary's goal and the final three seconds of that game.
We haven't posted here in two weeks, and that's unacceptable. When this blog dies, it won't be a slow, languishing death wherein the space between posts gets wider and wider and wider until one day there just aren't anymore. No, if we go, we go with fireworks and explosions and eight page retrospectives and a big drunken party that you'll all be invited to - that's a promise. To keep that promise, I have to sit here tonight and write until I have something resembling a hockey blog assembled.
- The Wings were outplayed for a decent chunk of the game Monday, which was reflected in the score, and the fact that the game went to overtime. This continues a trend. Because it's November, and they're winning most of these games anyway, I feel like I can afford to look the other way for now, and tell myself that everything will work itself out by spring. (I will regret these words eventually.)
- Someone needs to tell Dan Cleary that scoring a goal for his team does not mean that he's in any way obligated to assist the other team in doing the same.
- I'm not sure why Salei decided that jumping on Howard would be in our team's best interests this evening.
- Rafalski made his return in this game. I have no idea how he looked, because my eyes unfocused every time the puck went into our defensive zone.
- Have I mentioned how much I love Henrik Zetterberg?
- Andy Brickley didn't say "tremendous sex" this time, which is always a disappointment.
- The Wings' next game is on Thursday, against the Oilers, again, only this time you don't have to stay up until 2am eastern to catch the end of it.
And because I have nothing more relevant to say, here - have a picture of Wayne Gretzky about to eat his own daughter at a golf tournament. Because the Wings are between games with Phoenix and Edmonton, it's sort of relevant, if you squint, and maybe cross your eyes a little.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
This Game Was Ridiculousness
First of all, RIP Orange Hat Guy. It's a rare thing in major league sports when a fan garners as much notoriety as you had, and rarer still that it wasn't for doing something mind-blowingly idiotic in an attempt to draw attention to yourself. All you did was show up to every game in headgear the color of pure, unfiltered awesome. For that you were known, and for that you will be missed.
...
Alright, the Wings won, so I'll be a good sport about this.
Congratulations to Teemu Selanne on tying Bobby Hull for 15th place in all-time goals scored. Actually surpassing him's probably going to be a bigger deal for everybody involved, but Selanne's unlikely to do that against the Red Wings, and I'm not going to find out about it until three weeks after its happened, so this is my only chance. 610 is a heck of a lot of goals to score, but according to the Jets, Selanne's been the "Boss" for the last five hundred and fifty-six of them. Although maybe at some point between then and now he scored enough to take the quote marks off "Boss" so reading it out loud didn't make it sound condescendingly sarcastic.
Who was the old boss I wonder? Was it Tie Domi?
Yeah, I bet it was Tie Domi.
Also tied tonight was the goalie record for most consecutive non-losses in regulation since the lockout (which seems like an awkward thing to keep track of, but whatever). Jimmy tied Ozzie. Do you know what that means?
That means the Red Wings are awesome.
But not so awesome that I don't get to complain about inconsistent play. (When the Red Wings aren't winning games, like the first half of last season, I look back on posts like this one, read what I've written, throw up a little in my mouth at what a spoiled brat I must be to ask for more than two points, and pray to the hockey gods that my idiocy never astrally contributes to the rise of a second Dead Wings era. But this blog hasn't been updated regularly in a while, so I'm risking it.)
There were so many moments in that game that were so spectacular that it gets hard to remember all the awful, cringe-worthy moments that sat between them. Which is part of what makes it frustrating. Howard actually said it best in his post-game interview on Thursday - that when the guys decide to play, they're scary. (I don't know if he actually meant to call the whole team out in front of the media, but... he was saying what we were all thinking.) Can they make the playoffs by only doing the bare minimum required of them to succeed the whole year? Yeah, they can. They showed that they can this week, by pulling points out of games they didn't show up to for the full 60 minutes. But that's not what I want to see all season.
It's like that genius kid you knew in high school who failed all his classes because he was too bored to pay attention. I knew that kid. He never went to college and now he's 25 and (bear with me here) still unemployed, living out of his mom's basement and making me weep for his wasted potential.
The playoffs are college. And if the Red Wings get bored and lose all their regular season games, I'm going to be 24 and curled up in my mom's basement, weeping for their wasted potential.
Why do I start freaking out about this kind of stuff in October? Last October my soul died a little every game the Wings lost, which was almost every game. I would have killed for this October. Forget everything I just said, you guys. I don't care how they do it. Let's be happy for the win.
The next games on Thursday. Thursday. Have you ever woken up on Monday morning, screamed into your pillow because you had to go to school/work, and thought about the endless, unceasing, infinitely long string of hours you have to live through to make it to Friday? Add a day to that. That's how long it is until the next Wings game.
Are the ridiculous schedules a byproduct of having to coordinate 82 games for 30 teams? Is it because of the conference/division system? Is it the network tv slots? Bettman? Is it old? Is it new? Am I imagining it? I'm serious. The scheduling process is, given all the varied aspects of hockey as a game and a business, probably the thing I'm least-informed about, which is stupid, because as a fan, it usually affects me the most directly. If any of you guys have better insight into this, please - enlighten me.
...
Alright, the Wings won, so I'll be a good sport about this.
Congratulations to Teemu Selanne on tying Bobby Hull for 15th place in all-time goals scored. Actually surpassing him's probably going to be a bigger deal for everybody involved, but Selanne's unlikely to do that against the Red Wings, and I'm not going to find out about it until three weeks after its happened, so this is my only chance. 610 is a heck of a lot of goals to score, but according to the Jets, Selanne's been the "Boss" for the last five hundred and fifty-six of them. Although maybe at some point between then and now he scored enough to take the quote marks off "Boss" so reading it out loud didn't make it sound condescendingly sarcastic.
Who was the old boss I wonder? Was it Tie Domi?
Yeah, I bet it was Tie Domi.Also tied tonight was the goalie record for most consecutive non-losses in regulation since the lockout (which seems like an awkward thing to keep track of, but whatever). Jimmy tied Ozzie. Do you know what that means?
That means the Red Wings are awesome.
But not so awesome that I don't get to complain about inconsistent play. (When the Red Wings aren't winning games, like the first half of last season, I look back on posts like this one, read what I've written, throw up a little in my mouth at what a spoiled brat I must be to ask for more than two points, and pray to the hockey gods that my idiocy never astrally contributes to the rise of a second Dead Wings era. But this blog hasn't been updated regularly in a while, so I'm risking it.)
There were so many moments in that game that were so spectacular that it gets hard to remember all the awful, cringe-worthy moments that sat between them. Which is part of what makes it frustrating. Howard actually said it best in his post-game interview on Thursday - that when the guys decide to play, they're scary. (I don't know if he actually meant to call the whole team out in front of the media, but... he was saying what we were all thinking.) Can they make the playoffs by only doing the bare minimum required of them to succeed the whole year? Yeah, they can. They showed that they can this week, by pulling points out of games they didn't show up to for the full 60 minutes. But that's not what I want to see all season.
It's like that genius kid you knew in high school who failed all his classes because he was too bored to pay attention. I knew that kid. He never went to college and now he's 25 and (bear with me here) still unemployed, living out of his mom's basement and making me weep for his wasted potential.
The playoffs are college. And if the Red Wings get bored and lose all their regular season games, I'm going to be 24 and curled up in my mom's basement, weeping for their wasted potential.
Why do I start freaking out about this kind of stuff in October? Last October my soul died a little every game the Wings lost, which was almost every game. I would have killed for this October. Forget everything I just said, you guys. I don't care how they do it. Let's be happy for the win.
The next games on Thursday. Thursday. Have you ever woken up on Monday morning, screamed into your pillow because you had to go to school/work, and thought about the endless, unceasing, infinitely long string of hours you have to live through to make it to Friday? Add a day to that. That's how long it is until the next Wings game.
Are the ridiculous schedules a byproduct of having to coordinate 82 games for 30 teams? Is it because of the conference/division system? Is it the network tv slots? Bettman? Is it old? Is it new? Am I imagining it? I'm serious. The scheduling process is, given all the varied aspects of hockey as a game and a business, probably the thing I'm least-informed about, which is stupid, because as a fan, it usually affects me the most directly. If any of you guys have better insight into this, please - enlighten me.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Hockey & Death Glares & Birthdays, Oh My.
Boy, does it feel good to have hockey back (not that I've really been able to enjoy it yet, because I've been running around this semester like a crazy person). But I can honestly say that nothing feels as good as walking up to a pop machine and scaring away the huge guy in the Blackhawks shirt when he catches a glimpse of your Red Wings attire.
That's a lie- This was better:
And since it's Wednesday, I wish I could leave you with a WTF moment. But since I can't, I'll leave you with this:
Today Hockeytown Static turns 24. Well, not the blog, but the main person behind the blog. Happy birthday, Trisha!
That's a lie- This was better:
And since it's Wednesday, I wish I could leave you with a WTF moment. But since I can't, I'll leave you with this:
Today Hockeytown Static turns 24. Well, not the blog, but the main person behind the blog. Happy birthday, Trisha!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Two points to start the year off
Some of you might remember a few years back when Corey Perry promised Pavs that he was "gonna get it too".
Well tonight Pavel got it, and "it" turned out to be the long-missing piece of a Gordie Howe hat trick.
(There's a better quality video on YouTube, but it was the Duck's feed, and no one needs to hear that)
(David Guralnick)
(Which means that he's tied with Gordie Howe now. Awesome.)
It's almost not fair that something this ridiculous happened tonight, because I feel like the internet coverage it's bound to get will far outweigh the four goals and Howard's shutout, which alone would have made this a more spectacular start to the season than I could have hoped for (or would have hoped for, because me thinking positively before the start of a hockey game bodes ill for my team). This game went above and beyond all my long, hockey-starved summer-fed hopes, dreams, and expectations.
Some thoughts on the actual gameplay:
I'll be honest - there were long stretches during that game that I was busy trying to figure out how to fit the circumstances leading up to things like the entire top line hitting the penalty box into a text (because Lindsay was at the Griffins home opener. I swear, every time something like that happens, I have to figure out how to get the story to her in under 200 characters), so I'm pretty sure I missed some important stuff, like whether the Wings were legitimately dominating or if the Ducks had been replaced by Windsor Timbit hockey kids, but if you're coming to this blog for Serious Sports Commentary like what the big smart men do on ESPN, you're in the wrong place anyway.
(And if you're looking for hockey commentary on ESPN, then you're wronger than Darren McCarty in an Avs jersey.)
But most of what I did see I'm excited about. Jimmy looked pretty strong out there, especially in the second period. Dan Cleary was getting knocked around out there pretty good and getting right back on the ice, but that's sort of like saying today ended in a Y. And I like that the Wings were giving back all the physicality that the Ducks dished out.
On the other hand, I don't know if I want that to become a trend. Part of me still hopes that Franzen and his trick knee sit out tomorrow's game in Chicago. And the thought of Henrik Zetterberg spending the season getting cross-checked in the back sort of makes me want to vomit. Ericsson left tonight's game at some point with back spasms. I keep going back to last year's injury list and shuddering. And I still haven't seen Osgood play yet, just watched the preseason box score refresh and hoped the shots on goal stayed significantly higher than the goals allowed. I have a bad feeling that I'm going to be spending the winter banging my head against a wall while he loses games again. I don't know why I couldn't have been a normal kid and had my man-crush on Sergei Fedorov or something.
But whatever. The Wings got their first win on the season tonight, and that fills me with unending joy. Which I should savor while I have the chance, because I think we get to watch the Hawks raise a banner tomorrow night. (You know FSD'll cut to that thing every time they come back from commercial. And then Ken'll have to talk about it. And then I'll die a little inside.)
Well tonight Pavel got it, and "it" turned out to be the long-missing piece of a Gordie Howe hat trick.
(There's a better quality video on YouTube, but it was the Duck's feed, and no one needs to hear that)
(David Guralnick)(Which means that he's tied with Gordie Howe now. Awesome.)
It's almost not fair that something this ridiculous happened tonight, because I feel like the internet coverage it's bound to get will far outweigh the four goals and Howard's shutout, which alone would have made this a more spectacular start to the season than I could have hoped for (or would have hoped for, because me thinking positively before the start of a hockey game bodes ill for my team). This game went above and beyond all my long, hockey-starved summer-fed hopes, dreams, and expectations.
Some thoughts on the actual gameplay:
I'll be honest - there were long stretches during that game that I was busy trying to figure out how to fit the circumstances leading up to things like the entire top line hitting the penalty box into a text (because Lindsay was at the Griffins home opener. I swear, every time something like that happens, I have to figure out how to get the story to her in under 200 characters), so I'm pretty sure I missed some important stuff, like whether the Wings were legitimately dominating or if the Ducks had been replaced by Windsor Timbit hockey kids, but if you're coming to this blog for Serious Sports Commentary like what the big smart men do on ESPN, you're in the wrong place anyway.
(And if you're looking for hockey commentary on ESPN, then you're wronger than Darren McCarty in an Avs jersey.)
But most of what I did see I'm excited about. Jimmy looked pretty strong out there, especially in the second period. Dan Cleary was getting knocked around out there pretty good and getting right back on the ice, but that's sort of like saying today ended in a Y. And I like that the Wings were giving back all the physicality that the Ducks dished out.
On the other hand, I don't know if I want that to become a trend. Part of me still hopes that Franzen and his trick knee sit out tomorrow's game in Chicago. And the thought of Henrik Zetterberg spending the season getting cross-checked in the back sort of makes me want to vomit. Ericsson left tonight's game at some point with back spasms. I keep going back to last year's injury list and shuddering. And I still haven't seen Osgood play yet, just watched the preseason box score refresh and hoped the shots on goal stayed significantly higher than the goals allowed. I have a bad feeling that I'm going to be spending the winter banging my head against a wall while he loses games again. I don't know why I couldn't have been a normal kid and had my man-crush on Sergei Fedorov or something.
But whatever. The Wings got their first win on the season tonight, and that fills me with unending joy. Which I should savor while I have the chance, because I think we get to watch the Hawks raise a banner tomorrow night. (You know FSD'll cut to that thing every time they come back from commercial. And then Ken'll have to talk about it. And then I'll die a little inside.)
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
It's good to have goals
It's cold outside. The top leaves on the skinniest trees are starting to twinge orange. The wind, though not yet icy, brings with it the scent of cold fronts to come. Schools are in session, and summer resort towns up and down Michigan's coasts are rolling up the sidewalks, lining beaches with winter fences, and repricing hotel rooms with off-season rates (supposedly. I'm pretty sure most of them keep the prices up for the fall-foliage tours). The Red Wings are back on Joe Louis Arena ice, and training camp is right around the corner. I'd say, if you asked me, that summer is over.
"This summer, we're going to set the lofty goal of at least 15 [posts]"
Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha
Counting this one, the one where I announced that we had a goal, and assuming that I'm not updating again until well into preseason, this blog has tied last summer's post-count. Which I actually consider a huge success.
The Hockey Music thing was only supposed to be summer filler, but (and I don't know whether this is good or bad news for you) I've decided to continue it until I run out of music to post about, mostly because I already had at least another five posts partially written. Also because I refuse to have tracked down Guy Lafleur's disco album for nothing.
You can expect all that - as well as the usual bitching, erratic posting, gross humiliation of plastic figurines, and speculations as to whether Jimmy Howard ever had a set of Spiderman footie pajamas that you've probably come to expect from this blog - within the next month, as Lindsay and I crawl out of our air-conditioned, hockey-deprived cocoons to rediscover the endless cycle of joy and heartbreak that comes with being a Red Wings fan.
"This summer, we're going to set the lofty goal of at least 15 [posts]"
Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha
Counting this one, the one where I announced that we had a goal, and assuming that I'm not updating again until well into preseason, this blog has tied last summer's post-count. Which I actually consider a huge success.
The Hockey Music thing was only supposed to be summer filler, but (and I don't know whether this is good or bad news for you) I've decided to continue it until I run out of music to post about, mostly because I already had at least another five posts partially written. Also because I refuse to have tracked down Guy Lafleur's disco album for nothing.
You can expect all that - as well as the usual bitching, erratic posting, gross humiliation of plastic figurines, and speculations as to whether Jimmy Howard ever had a set of Spiderman footie pajamas that you've probably come to expect from this blog - within the next month, as Lindsay and I crawl out of our air-conditioned, hockey-deprived cocoons to rediscover the endless cycle of joy and heartbreak that comes with being a Red Wings fan.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Say hello to your newest Red Wing
His name is Mike. He likes dogs
big hair
Willa Ford
crying
And possibly Marty Turco
which could get a little complicated next season, what with him being a Blackhawk now.
A lot of people seem to have mixed feelings about his coming to Detroit, but it's been my experience that the more sad-eyed, hockey-scarred old men the Red Wings have on the team, the further they get in the playoffs, so you can tentatively throw my name on the list of local family members, old friends, and kids who spent their afternoons at his ice rink that comprise his ready-made Detroit-area fanbase.
big hair
Willa Ford
crying
And possibly Marty Turco
which could get a little complicated next season, what with him being a Blackhawk now.
A lot of people seem to have mixed feelings about his coming to Detroit, but it's been my experience that the more sad-eyed, hockey-scarred old men the Red Wings have on the team, the further they get in the playoffs, so you can tentatively throw my name on the list of local family members, old friends, and kids who spent their afternoons at his ice rink that comprise his ready-made Detroit-area fanbase.
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