So because two games in a row against Chicago makes me sad, I'm not going to talk about it.

I'm going to talk about other things I hate.

About a week ago, Lindsay found this post on her internet travels. It sparked a little discussion (and a lot of ranting) about what makes a truly obnoxious seat-mate. It's all pretty subjective - some of our death-by-fire game-ruiners might be your colorful ambiance-providers and vice versa. Hell, we couldn't even agree on most of these, and only agreed to include them all because they managed to add up to ten, which is generally the most accepted number of items to put on one of these things. You're probably going to disagree with a few of these.

So with that in mind, here are Hockeytown Static's Top Ten Most Obnoxious People at a Hockey Game:

10. People with whistles. Actually, neither of us have ever been to a hockey game where they were blowing train whistles (which is probably a good thing for the people blowing them), but it's a fear we have for the future.

9. Puckbunnies. Ok, so we're girls - we understand if you want to look good when you go out, even to a hockey game. And we understand if you appreciate the physical attractiveness of the players on the ice - that's biology. Hell, I guess we can even concede to tolerate all the "PUCK ME" and "Lebda your (sic) a hottie!" signs, even if it means that, again, us being girls, among a lot of fans we have to work twice as hard and dress twice as frumpily to prove our credibility.

But when I'm glowing with childlike glee at finally getting a chance to see the players I worshiped as heroes as a child and you push past me and block my view of Lidstrom or Hank or Ozzie during warm-ups so that you can try to slip Jonathan Ericsson your number through the crack in the glass? Bitch, you've crossed a line.

8. The Griffins $1 beer crowd. I've never really had a problem with the people at Van Andel who were there for the hockey and really excited that the beer was just a buck (actually, the best time I've ever had at a hockey game was when the guys in front of us got wasted and two of them nearly went to blows over whether or not Wayne Gretzky was the greatest hockey player of all time). But the arena fills up every Friday night, mainly with people just there to get drunk. They're loud, obnoxious, and usually have no idea what a puck even is, but they can get wasted and eat a whole meal for under $20 (including tickets), so they're there. And while I think it's great that you're having a good time and all, I don't really want to spill beer on me, hit on my sister during second intermission, and then cheer for the wrong team during the shootout.

7. People who stand during THE WHOLE intermission. Not get up and stretch a little. Not head out to the concourse to pee out five dollars worth of dollar beer and then come back a little while later. Not jump up when there's a chance to catch free t-shirts. People who actually stand up right in front of their seats and chat for a solid 15 minutes. I know the intermission entertainment is lame. I don't care. Maybe my kid's out there with his mini-mites team. Maybe my best friend's trying to throw frisbees into the net for a free jersey. Maybe I've got a thing for juggling Elvises. And maybe I paid good money for my $10 standing room only ticket and want to watch the Stormtroopers dance. Sit the hell down, dammit.

6. People who wear jerseys of teams not playing in the game you are attending. We understand that there can be exceptions - like teams that have some kind of personal or geographical tie to one of the teams playing (like wearing a team Sweden or an old Vipers jersey to a Wings game, or a Shane Doan Jets jersey to a Coyotes game), or like a Chiefs jersey (which no hockey game is really complete without). But if you go to a Wings vs. Flames game in Detroit wearing a Crosby 2010 Olympic Team Canada jersey, you are just a prognosticating tool. The roster hasn't even been finalized yet, and obviously you're just doing it to brag, but you've come to the wrong place.

5. That one guy who steals the goal light after the final game at Olympia and makes it into an honest to God lamp. Then they give the lamp away, with no thought at all that maybe in a few years they would have two daughters who pretty much worship the Detroit Red Wings. Thanks, Dad.

4. Grown adults who are at their first hockey game and still don't quite get it. I appreciate your effort sir, but I don't want to sit next to you for three hours while you tell your friend (and their friends are never all that knowledgeable about the game) how it's like football on ice. No, it's not. It's like soccer on crack on ice. But you don't know that, because you don't watch soccer either. And I'm talking about the people who aren't ever going to watch hockey again, who spend third period on their cell phones because they got bored of not being able to follow the puck. You're not obnoxious because you don't know what icing is - you're obnoxious because you're yelling over the hockey-noise, right in my ear, about how you totally almost scored the other night with some hot chick.

3. That guy who spends literally the entire game standing two rows in front of you on his cell phone trying to get the attention of his friend on the other side of the arena. Ok, cool - make sure your buddy knows where you're sitting, have a wave, point him out to the guy you're sitting with - if you can't find each other in less than five actual minutes, give up, because you're not going to pick each other out among the other 8,000 people at Joe Louis Arena wearing red shirts and black baseball caps, half of whom are on their cell phones waving across the ice right along with you. And you don't need to continuously stand up and signal to each other via semaphore during actual game play - cross-arena communication is what the Finns invented texting for. Don't make me spend the entire game with your arms waving around my line of vision, listening to you say "No, over here! Yeah, I'm over here, in section...um... the one like two down from the left goal. No, MY left. Yeah. No, that's not me. I'm waving! Can you see me? Where are you?"

2. People who get drunk enough to fail at insulting the players so epically that I almost don't hate them, but love them for the entertainment. Most of this I've experienced thanks to dollar beer night at Van Andel (why would you yell 'GO BACK TO STATE!' at Jimmy Howard? He went to University of Maine), and is part of the reason I don't like the people who only come for the dollar beers. Can you tell that dollar beer night is a complicated love-hate relationship for me? It confuses my emotions toward alcohol.

1. People who yell "SHOOT!" when there is clearly no shooting lane open. I mean, I get it - it's frustrating when you're stuck watching your team pass the puck to each other at the blue line during a powerplay in the last dying seconds of the game. And sometimes hockey players don't do enough getting the puck to the net (back when he was with the Griffins, Ville Leino, I swear to God, would back-pass on a breakaway. I saw it happen! More than once!) and you want them to shoot - I want them to shoot too. Maybe enough to shout a little encouragement every once in a while. But I can promise you that Nick Lidstrom has a better idea of when to shoot the puck than that drunk guy sitting three rows behind me. So drunk guy three rows behind me yelling "SHOOT IT!" every thirty seconds? Unless your name is Steven Gregory Yzerman, and I know it's not, keep your freaking mouth shut.

Good lord, hockey makes me angry.

That was awful

That was so awful.

That was so awful that I might want to go crawl in a little hole right now and never come out again.

And I didn't even watch more than ten minutes of it.

All of those ten minutes were in the Huntington Club at Van Andel Arena during a Griffins signing after a game that thankfully they won. It's not a huge consolation, but a consolation nonetheless. I'll take what I can get.

This game probably makes us the last two people on the entire internet that don't want to tar and feather Jimmy Howard out of town and deal for Luongo at the trade deadline. According to our mother (who, understand, loved how Hasek played and still has a crush on Manny Legace, so take her opinion with that in mind), Jimmy actually had a good game tonight, but a good game is secondary to a team loss. I still have faith in him. I don't know why. I don't actually have anything to back up my lack of desire to throw him under the proverbial bus. Call it a gut feeling. Call it wishful thinking. Call it having delusions. I'm still behind our backup goalie. I just wish the team was, too.

The Wings are just getting all their losses out of the way now, right? So maybe they won't have any stretches later like February from two years ago, or that weekend where the entire central division scored 8 goals a game on them, right?

Thursday randoms

A lot has happened today. The Red Wings sent seven players to the Griffins, Nicklas Lidstrom was named the best NHL player of the decade, I learned how to swear in Russian, Wayne Gretzky left the Coyotes, and Brad May got a Red Wings try-out.

Griffins first-
Travis Ehrhardt, Sergei Kolosov, Sebastien Piche, Jamie Tardif, Tomas Tatar, Francis Lemieux, and John Vigilante were all released from Detroit and rejoined Grand Rapids for their first practice Monday.

Also the Griffins are having fans pick another bobble head. Your options are:

- Head Coach Curt Fraser (bobble fists)
- Broadcaster Bob Kaser
- center Darren Helm
- goaltender Daniel Larsson
- Duke (Zamboni bobblehead)

Go vote. Trisha wants the Zamboni driver, but she's always had a strange fixation on Zambonis. I'm hoping for bobble fists. It just sounds silly.



And with that as our segue...

CBC's Battle of the Blades starts October 4th, and I'm pumped even though I won't be able to watch it. I will say that I'm a little worried, though, because if skanky Claude Lemieux (honestly the last person I'd ever want to see in spandex) lasts longer in the competition than Bob Probert, I might cry (unless it's because Skank Prime is actually a great figure skater, and then I'll just laugh, and imagine him going out for coffee with Johnny Weir).

Just in case you've been living under a rock, the US Olympic team had a photoshoot. Patrick Kane got violent.


Look out cab drivers of the world - this man has an icicle.

Happy Birthday Jimmy

On this most historic of days, Jimmy Howard turned 25 and was named Griffin's Man of the Year.

The Griffins organization will present him with "an etched crystal trophy" at the next home game on April 10th in honor of the many, many, community service projects he's been involved with this year. He will also be in the running with 29 other players "for the Yanick Dupre Memorial Award, honoring the overall American Specialty/AHL Man of the Year".

p.s. If you click on the link about the Man of the Year award, you get to see the Wing's prospect in a silly hat posing with a St. Bernard wearing antlers. The picture gets bigger on the homepage. If you can load it. The Griffins site has been acting up for me lately.


San Jose lost to Nashville 3-2 tonight, leaving the Sharks and the Wings tied in points with 107 a piece. Hopefully the Wings can squeak ahead of them tomorrow, not just because it would make me smile for the Wings to stay at the top of the standings (because, believe me, it would), but also because I would get to change the number on my kitchen messageboard from 387 to 388, provided Ozzie is, as everyone says he is, starting in net.

No, this isn't to point out some sort of record that will be tied or beaten tomorrow with a win, other than then being just one behind Dom, but to point out the inherent pathetic-ness of keeping a Chris Osgood All-Time Wins counter going on your wall. I get to watch that number not go up very quickly every time I leave, come back, make food, or go to the bathroom. But, dammit, I still love Ozzie, so I still keep counting. My roommate thinks the whole thing's a laugh-riot.

No doubt as he suits up for what could potentially be the Hasek-passing move into the definitive number 10 spot (390), Ken Daniels will CURSE HIM TO LOSE HIS NEXT 15 GAMES by mentioning it. Ken curses everything. I love him, but if he talked in pregame about the unholy strength of the Wings' lower bodies, by the second period, each and every Red Wing (even the goalie on the bench), Babcock, equipment manager Paul Boyer, former players on other teams, prospects still in Sweden, and Orange Hat Guy would suddenly come down with a case of exploding ankles.

And as we all know, this season Ozzie doesn't need the Daniels Curse to help him let goals in.

Um... but I'm keeping positive thoughts.

She was about to go all Jedi on Hollweg's ass

Last night Lindsay and I were apparently witness to the first game in Griffins history where no penalties were called (maybe in response to Friday night's game where the worst penalty I have ever seen in my life was called. It wasn't even questionable. There was no question. Helm was a good six feet away. But I digress...)

It was Star Wars night. We had standing room only tickets, there were stormtroopers on the concourse, Darth Vader was walking around... I was kind of dorking out.

Lindsay almost had to be held back from hitting Ryan Hollweg with her $5 plastic lightsaber as he passed us on his way out of the arena. You may remember Ryan Hollweg from such timeless classics as Ryan Hollweg hits Sergei Kostitsyn from behind, Chris Simon tries to kill Ryan Hollweg, and Ryan Hollweg dances like a fool while Shanny laughs at him. I'm not sure where Lindsay developed such a seething, burning hatred for the man (I didn't think she liked the Kostitsyns that much) but there's no arguing with her once she's formed an opinion. Her and her lightsaber were bent on vengance. (If it was vengance against his creeper-stache, I could see where she was coming from.)

I don't know about her sometimes. Oh well. Anything for the Justin Abdelkader bobbleheads.

And that's only my nightstand because none of my shelves get enough light to take a decent picture. Really.

I'm just a dirty complainer like that

I think it's awfully funny (by which I mean not funny at all, but a sad remark on my life and humanity in general) that when the Red Wings aren't sucking hard, I don't really have anything to say about them. It's laziness on my part; I could have written something about what I thought they've been doing right lately, or something about Ozzie getting his game back together, or something about Lilja's injury, or something about... I don't know - Konstantinov, maybe, since it was his birthday yesterday.

But I guess I've fallen into that trap of 'if you don't have anything bitchy to say, don't say anything at all.'

What I want to talk about right now was tonight's game against Atlanta, because I think there's probably a lot to talk about. Sadly, I haven't seen it yet. We had to tape it, and the tape's 160 miles south east of here right now. I was hoping to catch the replay on FSN tonight, but I guess they're playing tennis until six in the morning or something.

All I know of the game was texted to Lindsay's phone by our mom while we were at a Griffins game. Our mommy-play-by-play was pretty sparse, but it included telling us that the crowd was chanting Ozzie's name, to which I had the following response:

"Oh, that's good - wait. Ozzie's starting again? Wait. Isn't this an away game?" I fear I may have missed something truely epic, and for that I'm a little sad.

My tradeoff was getting to witness the unbridled freaking-out joy of a guy down the row from us who took until the middle of the second period to realize that Darren McCarty was playing in front of him.

Guy down the row: "Wait. Holy crap. Is that McCarty? McCarty? McCarty's playing tonight? Darren McCarty? That's McCarty??!?"
Guy next to me: "Dude, yeah. He scored the goal."
Guy down the row: "OMGOMGOMG MCCARTY. Right there. That's Darren McCarty."

He spent the rest of the period grinning like a 12 year old, which made me smile inside. You go to so many Griffins games and you start to forget who it is you're watching down there, people like Helm, and Leino, and Ericsson, and Downey, and Darren freaking McCarty, and it's nice to be reminded that for a $10 student ticket, you get to watch past, present, and potential Red Wings play hockey. Also, on Fridays you can enjoy $1 beers.

I swear I'm not getting paid to plug Griffins games; this is just the most live hockey I've gone to in a year since I was ten, and it's kind of made my semester awesome.

Plus, not having actually seen tonight's game, and not willing to read everything that's already been said about it and regurgitate it in a half-assed game report, it's the closest thing to Red Wings-related information I have anything to say about right now.

We'll call it... a prospects scouting report? So... Leino still holds onto the puck too long, and Jimmy looked alright in the shootout...

(Oh, and the mascot broke his arm sledding down the stairs in the lower bowl. Yeah, I don't know. They have a hydrolics-powered gatling gun that somebody built in their garage out of pvc pipe that shoots hot dogs and t-shirts - it's a dangerous job.)

Some late-night ramblings

Will Old Man Ilitch ever stop handing out the Stanley Cup rings? It's like he's been throwing them out of an airplane this year. Most of the recipients make sense: the team, the broadcasters, the call-ups on standby during the playoffs, Scotty Bowman, the HHOF, any alumnus who never received a ring, etc. Some, however, still baffle me. Like Kid rock. I guess his could have come from Cheli (they're totally bffs), but it doesn't matter how he got one, it matters that he has one, or was at least holding on to one, and that he almost gave it away to Nickleback this year.


(the story starts around 8:30)



If you live within broadcasting distance of CBC and haven't already, you should try to catch this show every once in a while (5 and 11pm weekdays). It gets our seal of approval, if that means anything. If you don't hate Sean Avery (or even if you do) watch this one too. I laughed.

The Wings play St. Louis tomorrow in an early game at 2pm. Geez I'm going to see far too much of this team this weekend. Griffins vs. Peoria (the Blues' farm club) Friday night, Wings vs. Blues Saturday afternoon, and more Griffins vs. Peoria Saturday night. If it's possible to get sick of hockey, it will probably happen this weekend. But if tomorrow's Griffins game is anything like tonight's, that won't happen. Is it possible to get sick of Darren McCarty scoring shorthanded break-away goals on Manny Legace? I think not.

I sort of felt bad for Manny by the time it was over. He had a few cheers when he first came out (some of them from us) but now he's lost more games than he's won after being sent down to the AHL mid-way through the season. That's gotta suck.

Anyway, the final score was 4-1 Griffins, which I hope is indicative of the outcome of tomorrow's game between their parent clubs. Please?

Nothing to say on a Monday night

I don't know why I'm watching this game. Versus is terrible, Marty Turco is a whore, and Skank the Turtle plays for San Jose now. And I really hate watching any game in Dallas, because at the end of each period their arena announcer goes "OOOONNNNNNNEEEEEE MINUTE!" like a total ass. It's the most obnoxious one-minute countdown in the entire league. Typing it really doesn't do the irritating-ness justice.

Brad Stuart is supposed to be back on Wednesday. Until told otherwise, I'm assuming this means the defense pairings are back to how they were before he got injured. It could give the team a boost.

On the topic of Goalies: Tyfus will start Wednesday against the Sharks, and Ozzie will be back in against the Kings Friday. Jimmy Howard was sent back to Grand Rapids Sunday, where he played a pretty solid game against the San Antonio Rampage, except for maybe the last few minutes. But I'll give him some credit because driving the two and a half hours on I-96 to get from Detroit to Grand Rapids in the middle of winter is horrible, especially if you're just getting back from Minnesota.

On top of all this, there was no way that he or the rest of the team could have fed off the intensity of the crowd, seeing as Van Andel Arena was filled (using the term 'filled' loosely) with elementary schoolers singing the Sponge Bob Square Pants theme song (I may or may not have joined in), and ladies there only to see Aaron Downey. (and by "ladies", I don't mean like - "hey, ladies!", I mean ladies like your best friend's mom. The one who made really good casserole, and owned a lot of purses full of coupons and mints, and had you zip your coat up before you walked the twelve feet from her door to your car. Van Andel is swarming with them. And they all wish they could make casserole for Aaron Downey. I sort of love them.) Anyway, crowd or no crowd, the Griffins won. Take that, Phoenix Coyotes primary AHL affilate!

Can you tell it's kind of a slow day for Red Wings news?

Jimmy got called up

By now this is probably bordering on old news, but the Wings called up Jimmy Howard to back-up Conklin tonight, and probably start against Minnesota on Saturday.

Osgood is taking some time off for what George Sipple is calling a 'mental breather'. George sounded a little upset that Ozzie didn't want to talk to him after practice the other day. I don't know. If I were him, I wouldn't want to talk to George Sipple right now either. The indication is that he'll get the start next Wednesday, against San Jose. I know it's been said that he plays his best under pressure to prove himself, but now that game is making me nervous. Not least of all because I won't actually be able to watch the first half of it.

Find-your-happy-place-mantra of the day, courtesy of Ken Holland - "the playoffs don't start today." And I can use that to assuage my raging hockey-panic for another month and a half.

Lost in a lot of discussion on whether or not Chris Osgood is going to be able to pull it together by the end of the season (and I'm pretty sure he'll pull it together eventually, but I don't know when) is Howard. His call-up is absolutely killing the Griffins, who have had to sign Joel Martin to a professional try-out because Larsson is sick this week. (No. I don't know who Joel Martin is either.)

Howard's numbers have been pretty good this season, even though I've never personally seen him win a game (my presence in Van Andel Arena this year has consistently been the kiss of death), and Holland sounds pretty confident in him for now.

And anyway, I like him. A close inspection of his mask will show you that this season, he's travelling at just under Yzerman miles per hour.

That's gotta be like wicked fast.

What happened to the All Star game?

I don't even know if anybody reads this. My sister and I were supposed to be working as a team, with one of her jobs being the pimping out of my awesome writing skillz to the internet at large, a job from which I might have to fire her (not least of all because I've been reconsidering whether the world really deserves to be subjected to the thoughts running through my head.)

However - the fact of the matter is that somebody might, so I feel compelled, nay, obligated, to make sure they're well aware of the fact that as of today, Mike Babcock is the only Red Wing in the All Star game.

The Chief at A2Y has covered this subject better than I could ever hope to.

If you don't already read that blog, you should leave this one immediately and go do it.

And I agree with much of what has been said in the comments of that post, but mostly with the burning desire for Babcock to show up on the bench in his Winter Classic fedora. If that were promised, I would no doubt watch the game.

On the CBC feed, though. Blegh, Versus.

This weekend, I'm heading back down to the east side, but even with good home cooking, that's my loss. If any of you are within reasonable driving distance of Grand Rapids, I've got something you can do instead of letting your eyes glaze over during the skills competition on Saturday - Darren McCarty is signing autographs at that night's Griffins game.

For a $13 upper bowl seat you get - a live hockey game against Calgary's farm team; a Griffins-themed rally towel; to listen to Karen Newman sing the national anthem; to meet Darren fricking McCarty; a post-game autograph session with three players, two of which have actually played games with the Red Wings; and so much more! (well... not that much more.)

More information can be found here.

I can't go, or I would. You should go. Let me live vicariously through you. I'm stuck at home watching the All Star game. This year, I'm rooting for the goalies.