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Two games. 80 shots on net. No goals. The first double shutout since 1977.

What.

The.

Crap.

Maybe I should have been a little more specific when I said that I wanted to witness Red Wings history when I attended the only two games I was going to get to attend in probably two years.

I'm not really sure how this makes me feel. I don't know if I want to be angry, or if I want to laugh, or if I want to throw myself off the ambassador bridge, or maybe I want to do all three. I had the urge to do all three today, but I don't think jumping off a bridge while laughing angrily at hockey is quite the way I want to go. But I don't even have anything relevant to say about the game yet, except that it was ridiculous. I'm sort of too in shock right now at it having happened in the first place to form an opinion about it.

Seriously, what was that?

Remember how Lindsay wanted to corner Jarome Iginla in an elevator and give him a swift kick in the shins for his team's past transgressions before tonight's game? Her blind hatred of the Calgary Flames has now crossed over into the realm of the comedic. I've spent most of the night whispering "Dion Phaneuf" from across the room and watching her face spasm with disgust.

It's funny in the same way that disallowed goals aren't.

That game made me smile

Alright, before I completely geek out about everything that was awesome about yesterday, let's recap the holy-crap-not-so-awesome:

- Jonathan Ericsson appears to have caught the flu. Thanks bunches, Edmonton.
- Jason Williams tried to take Brad May's eye out last night; he should be fine, but that was a little scary, and logistically, we don't need another man down.
- Not a single kid showed up to my front door as a Red Wing last night. Back before I went to college, Halloween was good for a solid McCarty or Shanahan and two Yzermen, at least. How disappointing. There were a couple Tigers, but it's just not the same.
- Filppula still has a broken wrist, Franzen still has a gimpy knee, and yo mamma so ugly, she on long-term IR cause the coach don't wanna look at her.

But hey, the AWESOME:

- The Red Wings won a game! And more than that, they won a game where they didn't blow a lead, didn't have to switch goalies mid-way to wake the team up, and were, for the most part, defensively responsible. To quote probably the entire rest of the internet, they looked like the Red Wings again out there. (I don't think they ever stopped looking like the Red Wings though. The organization's been around for more than 8 decades. They still looked like the Red Wings last week. Just... maybe the Red Wings of the 1970s or something.)

- It's really nice to see Brad Stuart score on a team that isn't the Red Wings. You have to understand, I like the guy. But did he realize last spring that Lilja was going to be out for a while, and took it upon himself to unleash a string of did-he-really-do-that? so long that he would take up the responsibility of fan scapegoat? Because that's what it's been looking like. Not last night though. Last night earned him back his spot in the middle of the popular kids at the cool table in the lunch room.

To the ancient Celts, Halloween was the start of the new year, a time to chase away the ghosts of the past year (literally and figuratively) and turn over a new leaf. Are the Red Wings living out this tradition and finally finding their way as a team? Or was last night just a shining bright light of greatness amid what will turn out to be a dark season of fluky injuries, heartbreak, and inconsistent play?

That's an awful thought. Let's hope for the former.

Happy Halloween!

Wouldn't that be perfect if we were playing the BJs tonight? Unfortunately, I don't have any Flames in costume, and the only Red Wings-related Halloween picture I can find is wildly inappropriate:


Since, as we just found out, Valtteri Filppula's pimpin' hand ain't strong.

And that's where we stand, before a team that's not afraid of blood, already injury-ravaged, desperately, desperately in need of a win.

I mean it's starting to get ridiculous. I know Babcock's been saying that regardless of the record, this team's been playing better than the blowing-through-the-league teams of th elast couple years, but is that any consolations? Isn't it the most cliched-yet-true saying in all of hockey - good teams find ways to win? I know it's only the end of October, but right now the Wings have not-won more games than they have won, and I'm kind of expecting to see people start to leap from the bandwagon as though it had been set aflame.

Speaking of which, I know what the Red Wings can go as for Halloween.

Let's put down some Flames.

Am I up early... or am I up late?

Were those refs crappy again? I've heard as much. I don't know. After the first Calgary goal, I only looked up six times.

The first couple of those times, Chris Osgood was doing this thing where he could have had his skate against the little red bar that marks off the rectangle where the other team was aiming the puck, but instead, he... didn't.

And wouldn't you know it - that's where the puck went in. Twice. I think my neighbors in this walls-of-paper building now probably know me as "that girl who yells HOLD THE POST!!!" I'll fit right in with "creepy chick" and "dude who whistles too early in the morning." Why do you do this to me, Ozzie? After I've defended you to everyone I know...

I was going through my old bookmarks this weekend and found this. Bow down in awe and terror at the impressive spectacle that is The Kevin Dineen Card Museum. That, my friends, is devotion. I'm personally a fan of the 94-95 pog, and the primal scream, but adorable Wendy's juniors Dineen also makes me smile. I kind of wish I remembered where I found the link in the first place, but oh well...

Game tonight vs Calgary...

From what I've heard, nothing should be changing in the lineup. Homer and Lilja are both still out with injuries and Ozzie could get the start again.

Personally, I'm not looking forward to this game. Mainly because I still hate Calgary.

In other news, Hossa's brain is functioning properly. I don't know how long it took him to figure it out, but he decided he would rather take a pay cut to stay in Detroit then continue to hop around the NHL making trillions of dollars. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? I honestly want to know what makes this franchise so much more desirable than others. I already have some idea of why, but Detroit has been my team since before I could read, (which was convenient because I never had to figure out how "Yzerman" was pronounced Yzerman; I knew the word before I knew the letters) so I might be slightly biased. Is it the crazy Ilitch family? The management? The continuous winning? All of the above and then some?

Whatever the reasons, high caliber players keep managing to find themselves in Detroit and then decide they never want to never leave. Too bad the rest of the city is booking it out of Motown faster than you can say Hank's full name.

That was disgusting

It was more kinds of disgusting than I care to think about.

That was like it's your birthday, and you've told your parents all year you want a party at Chuck E. Cheese, but they never gave you a straight answer. You woke up this morning a little wary. By the time you got to the breakfast table, you were worried they didn't even remember your big day.

By lunch, it occurs to you that they're probably avoiding the topic on purpose, because they planned a surprise. You're so excited you can barely stand it.

By mid-afternoon, you've started to worry that there is no party after all. You feel like crying forever, but try to take it like a man. It's just a birthday. You get like 80 of them.

Then, just before dinner time, mom tells you to go put your coat on. Oh-boy! Here it comes! You get in the car, barely able to contain yourself. Speeding down the city streets, you spy the sign in the distance - there it is! That cool-looking mouse with the backwards baseball cap. Oh, you can smell the ball pit from here. Closer.... closer... your mom slows down as she approaches the parking lot entrance... THIS IS GONNA BE SO AWESOME...

Then the car lurches the wrong way, pulls into the left turn lane, and turns into the parking lot in front of the dentist's office. You have six teeth drilled and the hygienist goes easy on the Novocaine. On the way back from the bathroom, you're attacked by ninjas, but your mom doesn't believe you and you're grounded a week for ripping your pants.

You go home. Your parents mistakenly thought it was your brother's birthday and gave him all your presents. Also, your dog died.

Pin this one on the defense, pin it on the goaltending, pin it on whatever the hell you want - at the end of the day, the Red Wings blew another lead, and they blew it fast, and they blew it hard.

I try not to dislike Calgary so much, but then nights like this happen. Cleary appears to be ok, but the night's sluttiness still roused my ire, however hard I was laughing at the sight of four Flames in the box while it happened. (I was laughing pretty hard.) Lindsay's irrational shin-kicking urge hasn't really subsided.

Someday, Jarome... someday...

Game Day Update

Wings-Flames 7pm FSN (...or FSDetroit or FSRedWings or whatever they're calling it this week.)


Hossa is still out, but hopefully will be back Saturday against the Blues. Tonight will be Homer's 800th game and Cleary's 600th. There's not really much else to say about this game, unless you want to delve into my "Why I Hate the Calgary Flames" speech, which is quite long, not really validated, and boring. Mostly it involves this incident (and that entire playoff series), and includes my aspiration of meeting Jarome Arthur-Leigh Adekunle Tig Junior Elvis Iginla in an elevator so I can kick him in the shin to get rid of all my anger built up around this team. (It wouldn't be a particularly hard kick, or be directed so much at him as it would be at the sluts on the team he leads, but it would make me feel better.) That will never happen, so I just go back to seething internally.

On top of all this, Dion Phaneuf is a slut. Not quite a skank, but definitely a slut. I mean, just look at him:



I rest my case.

While you wait for the game to start go have a laugh at the expense of the Nashville Predators.

Go Wings.