I got nothing.

How can you possibly expect me to come up with a title at this time? How could I possibly choose just a few succinct words to describe how I'm feeling right now, at this very moment?

The Wings lost 6-5 in a shootout tonight.

This was after the Oilers scored the first goal of the game 0:42 into the first period. And after they scored the second goal of the game before the first half of the first period was up. And after they converted a Wings penalty to make the game 3-0 before the first buzzer. And after the Oilers took to the ice at the beginning of the second and made the game 4-0 within the first minute of the second period. And after the Wings rebounded from a 5-1 deficit to tie up the game, forcing overtime, after the Oilers shat themselves for the duration of the third period.

It was after the Wings fired off forty-five shots.

It was after Darren Helm and Patrick Eaves each scored their first goals of the season--Mr. Helm with his first career regular-season goal ever, despite being a postseason phenomenon last spring.

It was after Todd Bertuzzi finally had some luck with the net.

It was after a disgusting number of shots by the likes of Kris Draper, Henrik Zetterberg, Pavel Datsyuk, Nicklas Lidstrom, et al., bounced off the post or somehow off Nikolai Khabibulin (bleh).

It was after the Wings rebounded during the latter part of the game, controlling play, keeping the puck out of their own zone for the most part, after being dry humped by the Oilers all throughout the neutral zone and in their own territory during the early portion of the game.

And then it all came down to a shootout, in which, apparently, Datsyuk and Zetterberg had given up the idea of trying to put some stank on their shots. I love shootouts, as long as they don't involve my team.

I kinda don't feel anything. Maybe frustrated due to the loss after all that? Maybe weirdly optimistic due to the comeback (i.e., the Wings deciding to give a shit for at least 1/3 of the game tonight)? Maybe just kinda bleh. Super bleh. Super fuck.

***

Brian was correct on a comment he left on the Tuesday recap: Jimmy Howard scares the shit outta me with his rebounds. He made some spectacular saves tonight; conversely, how much did my heart skip a beat when a loose rebound squeaked toward the slot? Howard has fast reflexes and is obviously a quick-thinking goaltender, but his puck-handling has got to improve.

***

Yeah. So, guess who has two thumbs and felt like a total jackass. Of all the songs that could have possibly played during the game tonight, and of all the songs that could have been chosen by the Rexall Place maestro to pump up the crowd for one of Edmonton's power plays (one of the ones they ended up converting), of course "Cat Scratch Fever" was it. I can't believe that rat bastard Ted Nugent betrayed me. My permanent dibs are officially off.

***

Is this the end of the world? Aside from my breakup with Ted Nugent, no. I'm just extremely frustrated right now. This is a horrible way to lose. On top of wanting my team to win for obvious reasons, winning this game tonight would have made an amazing statement that the team is on the right track. Tonight's play was horribly inconsistent and maddening. What else is there to say?

***

Holy fuck on a stick: I just checked the news to see if there were any updates on Valtteri Filppula since he left the ice mid-game with an undisclosed injury. Per the Detroit Free Press, Filppula will be out for 6-8 weeks due to a broken wrist. Sigh.

Wings @ Oilers tonight.

Tonight, the Wings meet up with Edmonton for the first time this season.

There's all kinds of talk about the fear of catching swine flu, specifically because the Wings are playing Edmonton, which apparently is a heeby-jeeby H1N1 hotbed. Ick...

Worth noting are solid pregame summaries via Snipe Snipe, Dangle Dangle and On the Wings. The always-entertaining The Triple Deke and Nightmare on Helm Street have some funnies to rock your socks, including, respectfully, a Don Cherry-inspired Oilers blog and a nice Kronwall-ed joke. Highly recommended.

Me? I kinda got nothing today. I'm gearing down for the game tonight, but today is one of those days when work is turning my brain into goo. Is it feasible to quit and become a professional fan?

I did want to point out that Pavel Datsyuk had put out several awesome quotes into the universe over the course of this week, the first before the Vancouver game on Tuesday, re: Mikael Samuelsson (per George Malik):

I see he's playing well, but now he's no friend of mine.

And today, regarding his improved performance and going forward (also per George Malik, per the Detroit Free Press):

“I’m a shooter now, shooter,” Datsyuk said. “I’m happy to shoot. I need more shoot. I’m looking forward to shoot. Sometimes I shoot, sometimes I forget I need to shoot -- maybe I make it tattoo.”

Thatta boy, Pasha. Love this guy. You need more shoot? Here you go:



***

I have a good feeling about the game tonight; I've been experiencing all kinds of auspicious signs. Well, ok, TWO auspicious signs, but whatevs:

1. There's a guy at my place of employment right at this very moment who sounds just like Cameron from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I kid you not. And we KNOW that guy had excellent taste. Fuuuuck yeah:



2. I head heard (heh, heh) Ted Nugent on the radio today. "Cat Scratch Fever". Yeah. That happened. Why does it matter? Incidentally, he's from Michigan, AND I have permanent dibs on him, two very good reasons why this counts as a positive sign.



***

LET'S GO, WINGS.

And now, to get us really, really psyched, it's time for the old standby:



***

All right, Michigan inhabitants, I'm going to post something at the end of all my posts directing you to another post in which I beseech you for your opinion on a hotel The Scrappy Octopi are considering for our December jaunt to Detroit. Just a quick yes or no on whether the place in question is sketchy. I will do this on every post; I have no pride...or shame.

Part 2 - Wings triumph over Canucks, 5-4.

To be sure, it was an imperfect game. The penalties the Wings took in the third period almost made me lose my damn mind, not to mention the fact that the Canucks scored within the first 30 seconds of the puck drop.

No matter how happy the game made me (exact description: happier than Kurt Warner at a Jesuslovefest), it's important to keep in mind that it's just one game, and in no way is the team out of the woods. It's a long season, we're only in October, we've got a long way to go.

Thoughts on the game:

1. Pavel Freakin' Datsyuk. Holy shit. I looked for a video last night of this goal and couldn't find one. Today, we're in luck. Here is a beautiful goal, his first of the season, straight from Datsyuk's playbook:





I know I've bitched, ad nauseum, about how Pasha needed to score in every game ever, so it's obvious that I missed watching him do his thing and score amazing goals like this, but wow--watching him do this never fails to amaze me.

2. Jimmy Howard came up huge last night. It's unfortunate that Chris Osgood had the worst night ever, but pulling him was totally the right call, and I am ecstatic that Babcock did it so early. Had he not, it would have only gotten worse from there. (How much did I want to light myself on fire after the Canucks scored their 2nd goal? On a scale of 1-10, -----> infinity.)

3. The Scrappy Octopi, while watching the game last night, looked at each other during the 3rd period flurry and remarked, "Has Homer been on the ice for every single goal scored by the Wings?" Although statistically not true, it sure felt that way. (Oh, and anyone who thinks that goaltender interference should have been called when Homer was shoved into Luongo after Kronwall's goal was in the net should kiss my ass.)

4. I can't believe Brett Lebda actually lifted the net up and out of the ice. I'm not even mad; I'm impressed. (Thank you, Anchorman.)

5. How much did I want to physically harm Brad Stuart for the boarding penalty at that crucial moment during the third period? On a scale of 1-10, -------> infinity^infinity. I thought the hit was a little shady--not that Stuart intended to board him, but it was a close call.

6. Todd Bertuzzi is bound to get a goal one of these days. I would gladly give 10 years off my life, however, if in the interim, we don't have to hear the adjective "snakebitten"; it reminds me too much of everyone's description of Datsyuk during the playoffs, and it gives me nightmares.

7. Brian is funny. Per an email from him:

Sadly, in an unprecedented move, the NHL said the last 5 of the game will need to be replayed. Brad Watson phoned the league at 3am and said he intended to blow the last Wings goal dead. This sucks :(

8. I giggle with wreckless abandon every time I hear the name Mason Raymond now. Can't you just picture him putting in a chaw before he goes on the ice? Or retreating to his deer stand after games? Brian likes to picture him with camo skates on. I couldn't find a picture of this, but I did find a picture of this:

Come on, it's a car painted in a camo pattern and it's a Camaro. That would fetch you at least $1K at a yard sale around these parts. Or you could go park it at the high school and snag some jail bait. I'm just saying.

***

All right, Michigan inhabitants, I'm going to post something at the end of all my posts directing you to another post in which I beseech you for your opinion on a hotel The Scrappy Octopi are considering for our December jaunt to Detroit. Just a quick yes or no on whether the place in question is sketchy. I will do this on every post; I have no pride...or shame.

PashaPashaPasha

Wings beat Canucks, 5-4.

Pavel Datsyuk scores two goals and one assist.


More to follow tomorrow. Imperfect (and definitely interesting) game, but nonetheless, am on cloud nine for the night.

Wings @ Canucks tonight.

The Wings take on the Canucks in Vancouver tonight at 10 p.m. Eastern (sigh).

First: Please, please, please help out The Scrappy Octopus decide where it's going to park itself during its trek to Detroit in December by reading this post and commenting with helpful recommendations. So far, the only suggestions are (A) a zamboni and (B) Aaron Downey's potato farm, the former of which isn't very feasible, and the latter of which is just my imagination running away with me.

***

And now, The Scrappy Octopus's lameass version of a preview, in the form of a worst-case scenario list.

Things That Are Worse Than Discovering Your Boyfriend Has a Penchant for Vampire Vag in a Can*

1. Mikael Samuelsson scores a hat trick and not a single one of his shots ends up in another time zone.

2. The Wings get beaten by a team whose mascot is this:

3. The Wings get beaten by a guy who is the proud owner of the most redneck name in all of hockey, Mason Raymond. (I can totally say that; I'm from West Virginia.) Also, he looks like this:

4. The Wings get beaten by a guy who is the proud owner of the second most redneck name in all of hockey, Willie Mitchell. Here's a picture of him knuckle-pillaging his nose:

*Or, for boys who like girls, Things That Are Worse Than Discovering The Hard Way That Your Handy Vag in a Can Has Morphed Into a Vampire Vag (Ouch)

Help! I need advice.

OK, first things first: I'm watching the Toronto @ Anaheim game on PTDucks, and I swear to Christ, the announcer just said, "Uh-oh, look out, cookout" during a Toronto breakaway.

The fuck?

Oh, can we also talk about the cast of Cold Case dropping the puck at the beginning of the game? Goddamnit, I hate the Ducks.

***

OK, for those of you who have so graciously refraining from X-ing out of this window due to obscene levels of bullshit, THANK YOU--and now I have a question that I invite any and all Motown denizens to answer.

We, the Scrappy Octopi(?), are headed to the Motor City in December to celebrate early the birthday of yours truly by attending two games at the Joe, and we need suggestions for a decent hotel. When we stayed in February, we stayed in Roseville; however, this time, we'd prefer to stay someplace either in or closer to the city proper.

I read some good things on Yelp about the Milner Hotel in downtown and found a reasonable deal online for our extended stay, but I wanted to get some honest opinions first before making a decision.

Here is a brief list of my requirements for a good hotel:

(A) I don't want to get stabbed.

(B) I don't want to get crotchrot. (I like having to work for my crotchrot.)

(C) I would, preferably, enjoy being close to stuff, as I/we plan on getting wasted during/after Wings games and wouldn't want to drive 20+ miles like we did during our last stay.

So, Detroiters, please weigh in with your honest opinions; any suggestions for someplace else are welcome, as well. Thanks a million in advance.

(You'll note that getting bicycles thrown at me is omitted from the aforesaid list. I do not mind if this happens to me again.)

Wings lose to Avalanche, 3-1.

So, since I got over my hangover yesterday, and since I finally brought myself to watch the game last night, I can share some thoughts on Saturday night's experience v. the Avalanche:

1. Jimmy Howard is not on my shit list. The 2nd goal he allowed was flukey and weird, but he otherwise played a solid game.

2. Todd Bertuzzi impressed the hell outta me with his 1,437 scoring chances. I especially love that he accomplished this in front of a crowd of booing Avs fans because, you know, I heart animosity.

3. I can't believe Adam Foote took another puck to the face from Nicklas Lidstrom. Ouch.

4. Regarding the first goal for the Avs, Brian Rafalski should not have attempted that pass to Jonathan Ericsson. I love that Big E smashed his stick on the net immediately after the goal; I'm not sure whether he was mad at himself or mad at his teammates, but all signs of temper tantrums make me happy.

5. The top line, currently Datsyuk/Zetterberg/Holmstrom, needs to score now. Is the sky blue? They had some decent chances, especially Datsyuk, doing his thing, but they need to find the back of the net. I feel like I write this exact same thing after every single game we lose.

6. Officially joining the chorus of angry Wings bloggers with this one: Brad Watson should go fuck himself. Maybe it would help him do his job better.*

That's really all I have right now. I'm super disappointed, but when I watched the game last night, I didn't walk away with the same sense of abject failure as I did following other recent games. The game the other night against Phoenix? I'm pretty sure I barfed blood for the rest of the night. Maybe the difference here is that I saw the score while drunk, blogged about it when I was drunk, then finally got around to watching the game, so my emotional state kind of went from, "OMFG, how-could-they-have-lost-again-this-is-horseshit-i-need-another-beer" to "Wait, what was the score again? WHAAAT, we lost?!" to "..." Therefore, maybe this is a sign. A sign that alcohol needs to be present in all viewing situations in order to invert my emotional reactions to disappointing games.

*Actually, at this point, I'm willing to buy this guy a prostitute. He needs to get laid. It would help him relax with this whole whistle-blowing thing and get over himself. I mean, think about it: What do you really think is on his mind with the entire "intent to blow" thing? Anybody in for splitting the costs with me?

What should I call this, anyway?

A) I swore I wouldn't watch NHL scores tonight because I'm out and about, and I Tivo-ed the Wings game.
B) My Wahoos lost--and lost royally--after sitting atop the ACC standings for an entire week. Come on, it was a great 7 days...
C) Yeah, so I saw the score, somewhat inadvertedly, on a Blackberry, and I haven't watched the game yet, and it's taken me 6324 minutes to write this, and I'm drunk and pissed off and I hope there's a good reason for this bullshit. Sorry, guys, but I don't know what else to say right now.
D) Why the fuck is Sheryl Crow playing at Sheetz right now? Is this the big JC's way of telling me Armageddon is nigh? Or maybe I'm already in hell? Sigh...
E). I am royally concerned. And frustrated. Ugh...

Bleh.

I am having the worst day of my life.

Today at work, a guy came in and the following transpired:

He asked me how many powers I've given away to the federal government. I don't remember signing over a power of attorney to Uncle Sam or anything, but I didn't want to piss him off, so I just said I didn't know.

Next, he proceeded to open his briefcase and hand me a pocket version of the U.S. Constitution. (Be honest, sickos--you were hoping I said pocket penis, weren't you?)

Then--I swear to god--he told me to go home and read it so I was better educated about the things my federal government could do to me.

Then he said, "The answer is seventeen. There are seventeen things the federal government has the power to do to you," but he wouldn't tell me what any of them were.

Before he peaced out, his parting words were, "The domain of the states is the only thing we have that's sacred. It's the only thing keeping us free and safe."

I just died.

***

The Wings take on the Avs again tomorrow night, and if they don't win, I am seriously considering parking myself in oncoming traffic.



You're welcome.

Nope, doesn't feel better.

It really doesn't. I don't know if it makes it better or worse to read everyone else's similar takes on the game last night. I think it's safe to say that the Wings' blogosphere has come to the consensus that last night was exhibit # 1,247,039 of the Wings playing schizophrenically--solid and consistent for so much of the game, then turning it off and struggling to maintain their composure and giving up crucial scoring opportunities. What else can you really say? It sucks.

***

Friday is here, and it's also a morning immediately after a gut-wrenching game experience (and LATE! Holy shit, where is my coffee?), so it's time to post something totally stupid in a feeble attempt to cheer the fuck up.

Via Deadspin, I present you:



The Don Cherry jersey.

I know, I know: You're immensely jealous. Don't fret--you can actually place your orders* on this very website. Don't everyone sign up at once.

*Offer not extended to everybody. Dirty Europeans and/or non-English speaking peoples need not apply.

B.S. -- Part 2

Actually, I did feel like writing a little bit more:

It is so fucking frustrating to watch the Wings dominate the play throughout the first part of the game, only to lose the game in the end. Play throughout the game was solid and consistent; Datsyuk, Zetterberg, Filppula, Osgood, Leino--they all had great nights. Hell, even Brett Lebda scored a goal.

But toward the middle of the third period, when they were up only by a goal, the Wings switched from maintaining a strong offensive presence to facing down the Coyotes in their own zone and struggling to clear the puck; it would have been great if there had been a cushion separating the two teams. With each rush, the Coyotes inched closer and closer to having a solid scoring chance, and the Wings struggled to barely get it out of their zone, until finally, the bullshit goal resulting from a pileup on Chris Osgood happened.

And THAT'S frustrating.

I write this because I don't want to blame the entire thing on the bullshit that I believe should have been considered goaltender interference. Rather, just like losing in OT in general--it sucks ass, without a doubt, but you shouldn't have put yourself there in the first place.

So, that's why I'm so pissed off right now.

As a postscript, I don't even want to talk about the GWG in OT. Yeah, it totally and completely sucked ass, but that's like saying the sky is blue.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

"This is bullshit. Do your fucking job."

--Mike Babcock to a ref after the goalie interference call that totally WASN'T called on the Coyotes' goal with 2:40 left in the 3rd, tying the game at 2-2

***

Wings lose in OT, 3-2.

***

Bleh.

***

That's all. Don't feel like writing any more right now.

Pasha to return!

Per Ansar Kahn, Pavel Datsyuk will be on the ice tonight against the Phoenix Coyotes.

If this doesn't put a smile on your face, you are soulless and heartless, and I don't like you:

“I not score before the injury, I hope so I can score,'' Datsyuk said. “I have always slow start. I don’t know why, but I keep going, keep going, never stop.’"

He's scoring a goal tonight. I can feel it. In my loins.

Wings in Phoenix tonight.

...which means the game doesn't start until 10 p.m. Eastern time. Hockeytown Static echoes my sentiments entirely when it comes to late games blowing ass.

I would talk about how the Wings are so awesome and are definitely going to beat the Phoenix Coyotes, blah, blah, blah, but Phoenix is off to a surprisingly impressive start, a la Colorado. Sigh. I can't believe I just had to type that...about Phoenix. I think a part of me just died.

Here are some things to look forward to tonight:

1. The return of Pavel Datsyuk--not a definite, but a maybe, which is good enough for me at this point. Whenever Pasha is injured and doesn't play, it always feels like light years pass until his return. Maybe it would help to pass the time if I didn't busy myself in the interim by lighting myself on fire.



2. It's just...time for the Wings' luck to turn around. I don't know. Fuck it. They're winning. Big time. I just said it. And you can't stop me.

***

On a semi-related note, did you guys hear about the coyote that got run over by a car, and the people in the car (a brother and a sister) didn't realize the coyote was ALIVE AND STUCK INSIDE THE GRILL OF THE CAR until 600 miles later?! Seriously. That's some crazy shit. Can you imagine how this conversation went? No? I can.

[Bump]

Driver: Uh-oh, I think we hit something. It looked like a dog or a coyote or a dingo or a hobbit or something, but I'm really not sure. [Glances in rearview mirror.] I don't see it anywhere on the road behind us, and my car is steering kinda funny, plus I hear some howling that doesn't seem to be coming from the radio, as I'm not rocking out to "Werewolves of London" (yet), but I'm going to go ahead and make an executive decision. Onward we go!

[200 miles later.]

Passenger [waking up from a nap]: Are we there yet?

Driver: No.

Passenger: Hey, do you smell something weird? It smells kinda like something dead--

Driver: Shhh, shhh, go back to sleep.

[400 miles later.]

Driver [getting out of car]: We're here!

Passenger: Finally. I swear, this car felt so weird for most of this trip.

Driver [lifting hood]: Oh, it probably just needs an oil change. Let me check--HOLY FUCK ON A STICK!!!!!! How did this get here?!

Coyote [shaken, yet characteristically snarky]: Oh, I was hired by the Arizona State Highway Patrol to work as a courtesy technician; I was just tightening up your lugnuts. How in the fuck did you think I got here, asshat?

The bottom line? I can't decide whether these people are incorrigibly badass or hopelessly moronic. Maybe a little of both?

***

The Triple Deke has an awesome post pointing it out the stupidity and falsehoods associated with the argument that productivity on the ice always = points scored. It's a response to ESPN's John BucciGROSS's statement that Pavel Datsyuk and Henrik Zetterberg are past their "prime". Yeah. After you're done choking on your own bile and screaming obsenities, check it out here.

***

That's it for now. As always, GO WINGS.

Tuesdays suck.

It's my goal to hit every single day of the week at some point or another, and since I've already picked on Monday and Wednesday, it's Tuesday's turn to be the scapegoat.

But seriously, Tuesdays do sorta suck. Have you ever noticed that Tuesdays seem like the worst ever? It's true that Mondays have their own way of blowing ass, but usually, it's not until Tuesday that the shitstorm really rains down. It's as if karma/fate/the thetons gang up and wait until you've pretty much eased back into the workweek, thinking, like an ass, that you're going to be ok, and then--BAM!--disaster strikes.



So, in an effort to better myself ourselves (come on, I'm not really alone, am I?) and our stations in life on these shitty Tuesdays, let's try something we've tried before and really enjoyed.

That's right, boys and girls: It's time for another Hockey Celebrity Look-Alike Showdown!

(And how do I know "we" all really enjoyed it? Because I got a whopping six[!] comments on it, a record for this blog. And only one of those was from me. So, HA!)

And now, without further adieu, I present you...

Brad May



vs.

Russell Crowe



Facts About Brad May:

1. Plays professional hockey for a little team called the Red Wings in Detroit, Michigan.

2. Has dark hair and eyes that people may find equal parts provocative and psychopathic.

3. Played for a team with an avian name, the Anaheim Ducks.

4. Is a badass motherfucker and will eat your soul if you step to his game.

5. His trash talk on the ice during faceoffs often leads to altercations immediately thereafter.

6. Throws punches on the ice to protect his teammates and to prove that he is composed of true grit.

Facts About Russell Crowe:

1. According to Wikipedia, roots for a little football team called the Wolverines in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

2. Has dark hair and eyes that people may find equal parts provocative and psychopathic.

3. Plays in an upcoming movie with an avian name, Robin Hood.

4. Is a badass motherfucker and will eat your soul if you step to his game.

5. His trash talk during everyday life has led to various altercations with costars and Hollywood bigwigs, causing him irreparable harm to his reputation thereafter.

6. Throws telephones at hotel employees to protect his own ego and to prove that he has an attitude composed of true shit.

And the winner is...



Because who wants to run the risk of having a rotary dial chucked upside their heads? I'll pass, please. Besides, Brad May's interviews on FSD are the shiiiizzzzz, man. If I could find one on YouTube wasn't completely fucking lazy, I would totally add one here.

Avs beat Wings in shootout, 4-3.

Eh. I have mixed feelings about this game. Obviously, it sucks that the Wings lost, and it further blows ass that it was a loss to the Avalanche. That being said, I thought the way the Wings played during the majority of the game was faster, more industrious, and more consistent that any other game thus far this season.

The goals given up to the Avalanche sucked; the first was due to a bad defensive breakdown. The second was junk given up by Ozzie. The third was getting caught in a bad change, something that hasn't happened so glaringly since last year's playoffs.

I'm not happy about the circumstances under which the Avs were able to score, but on the other hand, the Wings clearly dominated the majority of the game, something that hasn't happened yet this season.

They just did that thing that makes me want to light myself on fire: They took their foot off the gas at the wrong times, against the wrong team, eager to take advantage of chinks in the armor. Grr.

On a happier note, I did enjoy Justin Abdelkader's goal; it was his first NHL regular-season goal. Sure, it might not have been a "pretty" goal, but you gotta love those gritty, chipping-away-at-the-net goals that somehow make their way to the back of the net. You also have to love Abdelkader for being in the right place at the right time and finding himself some great scoring chances; I'm excited to see more of this guy now that everyone ever has injuries.

Oh, actually, there is something else that's weighing on my mind. Can somebody explain to me why Dr. Rahmani replaced Pavel Datsyuk as his/her spokesperson with Tila Tequila? I demand a reinstatement.

Wings take on the Avs tonight.

Should be an interesting game. Despite the Avalanche's performance in recent years and despite my own mockery on this very blog, Colorado is off to a strong start, with an impressive 5-1-1 record. Who would have thought?

Sadly, Pavel Datsyuk will not play again tonight.

***

And now, as I promised Maxie several weeks ago, a shoutout to the worst current jersey in the NHL:



Come on, it has a fucking FOOT on it, for Christ's sake.

Incidentally, the Avalanche's captain is named Adam Foote. If that doesn't make you want to barf blood, or at least giggle inappropriately, then you are not to be trusted.

Happy Friday, boys and girls.

It's super duper dreary here; it's been raining all week, it's cold, and I swear to christ, the sun hasn't shone in 36 years.

I thought I would share something that was so funny, it made me spit out my pumpkin latte onto my desk, sent to me by Brian, courtesy of Deadspin. Enjoy.

Kyle Dennis, a math teacher and boys basketball coach in Boise, is in trouble for giving us one of the best police reports in recent memory:

Dennis "knowingly engaged in obscene conduct...by manipulating his penis with his hands while walking around a Costco store with an erection."

Despite that "knowingly," I might be willing to cut him a little slack here. Who among us can see the amazing deals on bulk pricing and not get at least semi-chubby? Oh wait, there's a pattern.

The documents go on to say that Dennis performed the same behavior at the Costco on 2051 S. Cole Road as well as the Walmart on Overland in June.

Wings beat Kings, 5-2.

Woohoooooooo.

--The biggest news by far is that Nicklas Lidstrom scored his 1,000th career point tonight, becoming the second Swede and first Swedish defenseman to do so. He scored two assists tonight, one on a goal by Tomas Holmstrom, the other on a goal by Henrik Zetterberg. Speaking of which...

--Zetterberg scored a goal and an assist tonight.

--Ozzie did a great job. There really wasn't much he could do on the two Kings' goals. He prevented a couple of nice scoring chances the Kings had, especially toward the beginning of the first period.

--I thought the Wings really brought their A-game for most of the third period; it finally felt like we were watching real Wings' hockey, with the exception of the penalties, but hey, the PK was pretty solid.

--I can't believe Tomas Holmstrom is leading the team in goals. He's the biggest boss that I've seen thus far. (Yeah. I went there. You liked it, too.)

--That move by Todd Bertuzzi that set up Kirk Maltby's goal was just awesome. Kirk Maltby has two goals so far this season. I'm just saying.

--Was it just me, or did Brian Rafalski look like he was ready to cry when the refs called a penalty on him? Regardless, he scored his first goal of the season with an empty netter at the end of the game. His expression after the penalty call was still funny as hell, though.

--To me, Davis Drewiske = Davis Drewski = guy whose unfortunate surname sounds like a nickname a fratdouche would coin for himself.

--Watching FSD via Center Ice really, really, really makes me crave Tim Hortons. Midwesterners and Canadians don't know how good they have it. The closest Tim Hortons to here is 3+ hours away. Boo. No matter what Southerners tell you, Tim Hortons is always > Krispy Kreme.

--I do not, under any circumstances, approve of the organist at the Joe playing the theme from The Addams Family. Unless we acquire a player by the name of Adams/Addams. Or, as Brian put it, unless we acquire a player who's just a hand.

Well. I guess it's to be expected.

Per Nightmare on Helm Street, per Ansar Kahn, Pasha will not play tonight.

Holy fuck on a stick. I knew this was going to happen.

The announcement of his injury followed the typical pattern:

1. Yesterday morning: He missed a morning skate, but it's no big deal.

2. Later yesterday: He's "day-to-day", but it's nothing significant.

3. This afternoon: He's not playing tonight.

I hate pessimism and taking things too seriously; that's why I try to look on the bright, or at least humorous, side of things on this blog, so I'm not going to freak out. But I want to light myself on fire. But I won't.

Here are things that need to happen tonight:

1. Henrik Zetterberg needs to score. Immediately.

2. Dan Cleary needs to produce more offensively. He and Z are on the top line together tonight; they need to light it up. Bertuzzi needs to stay consistent with the defensive pressure. If it's just Z doing all the work tonight on that line, I'm going to be super, duper pissed.

3. I feel good about Leino/Filppula/Williams back together on the 2nd line. I liked seeing these guys together during the game against Chicago last week.

4. So excited to see Darren Helm back finally (couldn't watch the game two days ago because DirecTV v. Versus fucking sucks my life away).

5. Homer, Draper and Maltby are together on the 4th line. In the grand scheme of things, I actually don't mind this, either; these guys have played hard, for the most part, and have produced more than people significantly younger. Draper's goal against Chicago the other night was fantastic.

6. Brett Lebda is back, Derek Meech is out. At this point, who gives a shit?

7. I hope the home crowd energizes Ozzie and that he can make a few stellar saves early enough in the game to set the pace.

I can't believe I'm most nervous about the top line. It's as if everything I've ever known and held true has been thrown askew. It's like finding out I'm adopted, Santa Claus isn't real, and Chris Kunitz actually isn't permanently dressed up as a hobgoblin for Halloween, all at the same time. What the hell?

So, last week, in preparation for the battle royale v. the Blackhawks, I used one of my favorite "get pumped" songs, courtesy of Bonecrusher, to set the tone for the game. I feel we need something different today, something a little less gangsta, but equally as hardcore.

I have just the thing:

No. No. No.

According to Ansar Kahn at Mlive, re: Pavel Datsyuk:

DETROIT -- Update on Wings' injury situation:

Pavel Datsyuk is listed as day-to-day with an undisclosed upper-body injury, general manager Ken Holland said.

"We'll see how he feels tomorrow,'' Holland said. "There's no significant injury.''

Holland said defenseman Niklas Kronwall should be ready to play Thursday vs. Los Angeles.

Let's hope this is truly "insignificant".

If it does turn out to be significant, let's do some math.

(Fuckity fuck fuck fuck)^10 is what I got. How about you?

How about that giant octopus again?

Wednesdays suck.

More specifically, Wednesdays immediately succeeding shitty games suck.

Let's watch a kickass video of a giant octopus!

I guess tonight's just one of those nights, huh?

The Wings lost to Buffalo, 6-2.

I'm going to be honest with you; I didn't watch the game. I'm one of the oh-so-lucky DirecTV customers who are getting royally screwed every single time a Wings game is broadcast on Versus.

But that's neither here nor there.

I've watched the highlights--can we really call them that? I'd say lowlights, but that sounds like I'm going to spend the remainder of the blog discussing the players' coifs--and I'm just kinda at a loss of what to say.

I feel I have to say the requisite statement, as a Wings fan, that not every goal was Ozzie's fault. He got pulled after five goals against, so one of them was definitely not his fault, as it was on Howard's watch. (Come on, we take what we can get. Laugh a little. It was a cute joke.) From what I saw in one of the clips, Brad Stuart seemed to have his head up his ass again. What the hell is up with this guy?

More thoughts, based on what little I've seen:

--Absolutely adored the Homer redirected goal. This guy is off to a great start this season, and I couldn't be happier for him, especially because there are many people, Detroit fans included, who were ready to write him off as too over the hill and too beat up from years of abuse. Keep it coming, Homer; we need you. Badly.

--It's too bad Valtteri Filppula didn't convert on the penalty shot. The team was already trailing by four, but at least it would have been badass.

I had just typed that I was not going to look up stats because I wasn't in the mood; I was just going to type some random shit, go to bed, then look up a bunch of stuff tomorrow and write a somewhat coherent post. But I couldn't help myself. And now I wish I could undo it.

Why in holy FUCK is there not a single player on the Wings' roster with a positive +/- overall?!

The entire team combined for a -20. Yes. A negative twenty.

The best anybody did was break even.

By contrast, the Sabres' team +/- was a +20.

I guess this is to expected when you allow 6 GA in one game. But it's still gut-wrenching.

Another question worth asking: How in the hell does a team with seemingly no offensive presence score six goals against arguably the best two-way team in the league?

Bleh.

On the positive side, at least this game does not matter. It is one game of 82. The only people it genuinely matters to are Buffalo fans, sort of, because I'm sure they're psyched, and to naysayers who are always ragging on the Wings and champing at the bit to be the first to pinpoint the exact second the Wings' demise begins.

This team isn't in our division. It's not in our conference. It's 1/82 of the season. Take a deep breath. Let it go.

The Wings face Los Angeles later in the week. I'm suing the Kings. I just winked. You can't see it. (Bonus points for you if you are an Arrested Development fan AND you're reading this blog AND you're a Red Wings fan. Can the world really handle this much awesome?)

Goodnight, ladies and gents.

Yippee! Wings win 3-2 over Caps.

To be honest, I wasn't feeling this game at first; I was far too nervous about the absence of Johan Franzen and the addition of Patrick Eaves and the presence (again) of Derek Meech. You know how the universe will implode if too much awesomeness occurs simultaneously? Yeah, the exact opposite of that is what I'm trying to say.

The Wings really got going during the 3rd period, though, after the 1st and 2nd periods being kinda flukey and weird, and ended up on top at the final buzzer.

Quick thoughts on tonight's game, in no particular order:

--Homer scored a GOOOOOOOOAL! His second of the season. This brought a huge smile on my face.

--The first Caps goal was complete junk, and I was mad at Ozzie for letting it in. I got over it eventually because he made some great saves tonight, but ugh. So goes the plight of every Wings fan--we all understand this.

--The Datsyuk/Zetterberg/Bertuzzi line seemed a little rusty at first, but ended up playing pretty well. The Twins had some great scoring chances, particularly in the 3rd period, and they had me out of my seat, jumping up and down, on more than one occasion. Bert is looking far better than I had anticipated, also; so far, he is my favorite of the new additions. Zetterberg skated much better tonight than on Thursday against the Hawks.

--I wish Dan Cleary would do more of what he did during the playoffs. This guy is so good at those gritty goals. We need some of that.

--Jason Williams reminds me of Mikael Samuelsson in that he has a strong slapshot that sometimes finds its way into the net. Jason Williams reminds me of Mikael Samuelsson in that he has a strong slapshot that sometimes finds its way into 4 or 5 people in front of the net. Tonight, it was the former; therefore, he does not receive any of my wrath.

--Valterri Filppula had a great hit on Alexander Ovechkin. It's gotta feel good to topple that guy.

--I wonder who woke up Tom Poti and Brian Pothier for the game.

--That whole dislodged net/lack of whistle thing irritated me. I guess it's negated by the questionable call on Mike Green for slashing Ville Leino in the 3rd period, but it still pissed me off.

--Ville Leino had another stellar game. His skating had stood out for me after each game so far this season; in fact, he is one of the most memorable skaters on the team. I'm glad he is proving wrong my initial worries about him.

--Still on the fence about Patrick Eaves. He skated well tonight, made some good passes, but overall, I feel pretty ambivalent toward him. Time will tell.

--I can't believe Derek Meech and the boarding penalty. I hate it when people on our team play this way. As a Wings fan, I'm spoiled by our team not having stereotypically dirty players, so I don't like it when one of our players commits a dirty penalty. Boo to Meech for this one.

--I miss Johan Franzen.

That's all for now. I'm pumped that we won the game tonight, but the Franzen news still = a dark cloud over the future. It's one of those things that can't be changed, and the best thing to do, as a fan, is just focus on the awesome members of the team who are making things happen. But it still sucks ass. Bleh.

Who wants a beer?

I don't even want to talk about it.

Per every news source ever, Johan Franzen has a torn ACL and will miss at least four months of the season.

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Post-Battle Royale Notes

The Wings beat the Hawks 3-2 last night, and that game was awesome.

Not necessarily because the Wings played their best game; the Hawks outshot the Wings and had excellent scoring chances, far too many for my comfort level, due to Wings' defensive breakdowns.

That being said, the Wings staved off two Hawks' power plays with a 2-man advantage, including one that ran literally to the final buzzer.

To fans who have watched the Wings' penalty kill throw up on itself over the past year or so, this is a huge confidence booster.

Some more things that rocked my socks last night:

--Chris Osgood. Ozzie was the man last night. He made 32 saves, stood on his head, and even the two Hawks' goals were really unpreventable by him.

--Kris Draper's goal was a-ma-zing. He also ended the night with 3 shots on goal and a +1 rating.

--Todd Bertuzzi (!) prevented a very scary scoring chance for the Hawks.

--Thank you, Brad May, for providing some toughness to the team. You'll never be Aaron Downey to me, but you're doing a pretty good job of making me like you.

--I'm feeling the Leino/Filppula/Williams line; I'm excited to see what these guys can do throughout the season together. (On a side note, FSD interviewed Mike Babcock during one of the intermissions, and I swear, he referred to Filppula as "Phillip-pula". This also rocked my socks.)

--Derek Meech, in for Brett Lebda, ended the night with a +1 rating. I know, right? Keep it up, Meech.

Some things that I'm iffy on...

--I want to see more offensive production out of Pavel Datsyuk. I heart this guy with all my being, so this isn't me being hard on him. It's tough love.

--Henrik Zetterberg looks injured still. He isn't skating with the same fluidness and ease that he normally does.

--I hope Jonathan Ericsson is ok. He took a puck to the same ankle he hurt during the Stockholm series.

--The Wings need to stop giving teams so many ridiculous scoring chances, and I mean both taking penalties and giving up turnovers. I nearly peed my pants when Niklas Kronwall got the penalty, enabling the Hawks to have 6-4 for the final minute and a half of the game. Yes, it made for an exciting game, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place.

***

In other news, how excited do you think I was that this happened:



***

Ovie and the Caps come to town tomorrow night. Should be a great game. Let's go, Wings.

Battle Royale: Wings v. Blackhawks (or Good v. Evil)

Tonight's the much-hyped first showdown of the season against the Blackhawks at Joe Louis Arena. The puck drops at 7:30.

And now, as promised, a list of why we hate the Chicago Blackhawks, in no particular order. Enjoy.

1. We're designed to hate them.

They're our fiercest division rivals. They're a fellow Original Six team. Hatred that goes back to the days when dinosaurs roamed the earth means more than hatred that was born yesterday. It means there's a lot riding on each and every meet-up; on both sides, all the fans' passion rests on whether their team can beat the other.

2. Reality v. Delusion

What's funny is that Hawks' apologists always point out the arrogance of Detroit and its fans: We like to brag about how our team has won the Cup 11 times, including 4 of the last 12 years. The Wings have made the playoffs for the past 18 consecutive years. We know, Hawks' fans, that you're sick of hearing about it.

But at least it's bragging about things that actually happened.

The Blackhawks last hoisted Lord Stanley in 1961. The number one song on the Billboard Hot 100 that year was Patsy Cline's "I Fall to Pieces". It's also the same year our president was born. If that doesn't put it into perspective for you, how about this? Madonna--the person who resembles an octogenerian trying her best to convince you she's still a teenager--turned three that year. Let that one sink in for a minute.

But Hawks' fans don't know this. On the contrary, they are sooo ready to take down the exalted Red Wings, so eager to edge us out for the division title. Last year was the first year they even made the playoffs after a five-year drought. But in just one season's time, they've piled on the insta-swagger like a person rolling in millions they just won via Powerball.

I'm not sure if they remember, but the Wings beat them in last year's Western Conference Finals. In five games. The only game they won was in overtime.

In an effort not to look like completely jackasses, maybe try waiting until you put your money where your mouth is before bragging. Unless we're all going to play the "Grand Illusions" game, in which case, I'll go ahead and predict that I, personally, am going to score a hat trick against Cristobal Huet tonight. From West Virginia. With my mind.

3. Everyone and their mom is predicting the demise of the Wings, due to age, infirmity, incontinence, or whatever, and--OMFG--did you notice that the Hawks are all, like, 12 years old?! Their youth and vitality definitely = Stanley Cup magic.

Yeah, right.

Again--hasn't actually happened yet. I understand the desire that people have that makes them want to be the first to predict the "next big thing". I further understand that the Blackhawks' fanbase is completely and totally energized and revved up for the new season; people are actually attending Hawks' games again, and they're excited and optimistic for a bright future.

But all that this premature blather does is (A) make Hawks' apologists like stupid when they fall flat again, and (B) enact my gag reflex in a way that prohibits me from enjoying my lunch. Stop it.

Besides, their "youth" and "vitality" is precisely what got them into the pickle we like to call the Game 4 meltdown of the Western Conference Finals last year, wherein they lost 6-1, their backup goalie got pulled for their backup backup goalie, and approximately 98% of the team ended up getting sent to the locker room after they had a collective shitfit on the ice.

4. Their organization is rife with arrogant sons of bitches.

Cue Adam Burish. Or Tomas Kopecky. Or Brother-Can-You-Spare-Some-Change Patrick Kane.

Oooh. Burish picked up the octopus with his stick and threw it away. This must be a metaphor for...something. I guess it means they beat us last year in the Western Conference Final. I'm at a loss. Too bad he won't be on the ice tonight to get a tall order of what Niklas Kronwall served Martin Havlat last year.

I'm not even going to bother commenting again on Kopecky. After all, I'm still not sure this guy ever played for the Wings. And I'm not sure anybody from Chicago will notice him playing for the Hawks, either.

And I really don't think I need to elaborate on Kane, either. There are players on other teams who are outstanding enough, both in their play and in their conduct, to deserve my respect and admiration. He isn't one of them. Vomit.

5. Cristobal Huet. Brian Campbell. Marian Hossa. Tomas Kopecky.

What do all these people have in common?

Huge price tags and overrated qualifications.

Maybe I shouldn't include Kopecky in this group, as I don't really know if anyone actually believes he plays hockey, but that's precisely why I still can't believe he's banking $1.2 million a year. Puh-leeze.

6. Speaking of Cristobal Huet...

People in the hockey world like to rag on Chris Osgood for his unreliable goaltending. But Ozzie has won the Stanley Cup three times. Huet is nearly as old as Ozzie (shhh, don't tell Chicago) and has won the Cup zero times.

This should, for all intents and purposes, be his year. This is do-or-die for him. Come this spring, he'll either be hailed as the second coming of the Messiah or be outcast into the inner rings of hell. People in Chicago should be very nervous about this guy.

But they're already assuming they have the Cup in the bag, and with that assumption comes an even greater stretch in believing that Huet is going to take them there. I wouldn't hold my breath.

7. Speaking of Marian Hossa...

Ha. Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahaha.

I would say that I'm sooo ready to see this assplug in the postseason, but it's impossible: He'll be sporting his cloak of invisibility. Oh, wait. Do I sound like a bitter Detroit fan? Go talk to fans from Pittsburgh, Atlanta, and Ottawa. Or wait a few years and talk to yourself when he demands a new contract after not winning the Cup, despite not putting forth an adequate effort to win said Cup.

Sure, I'll miss his 40 goals, but only until Datsyuk and/or Franzen and/or Zetterberg have a 40+ goal season. And yes, I'll miss seeing his bleached hair and Eurotrash look, but only until I realize that our team's roster no longer holds a spot for a guy who looks like he'll order a double-shot of Jaeger for himself and a roofie-tini for his lovely date.

On behalf of Red Wings fans everywhere: You're welcome, Chicago.

8. Speaking of 40-goal seasons...

One of the biggest storylines I'm sick of is that the Wings are on the decline due to the missing offensive production of Hossa/Jiri Hudler/Mikael Samuelsson. Give me a fucking break. Hossa was in Detroit for one year. Hudler, while completely awesome in his own right, cracked the 20-goal benchmark only once in his four years in Detroit. Ditto for Samuelsson.

I think we'll live to see another day.

9. Not necessarily hockey-related, but why do people in Chicago have such a shitfit over food?

I feel like I'm inundated on the daily with Chicagoans judging other people for their culinary choices. First, there's that god-awful Center Ice commercial--you know, the one where the people in jerseys supporting certain teams say, "I may live in [insert name of different city] now, but my seats are defintely Center Ice." Of course, the Hawks' fans are the ones whining that they don't have any deep dish pizza because pizza that the rest of the world eats just tastes like sadness.

A few weeks ago, I watched some show on the Travel Channel about American food, and the topic was hot dogs. And, of course, the Chicagoans featured on that program whined about people who choose to put ketchup on their hot dogs. They will judge you for this. You will be publicly flogged.

Are you serious?

You mean you're judging people based on what they put on the thing that I can go buy 2 of for $0.99* at the gas station across the street?

*Or the amount equal to Patrick Kane assaulting five cabbies over spare change and getting to keep a lucky penny for himself.

I guess in the Windy City, they enjoy getting out the fine silver to eat pizza during hockey games, and I further suppose they douse their franks with caviar and gold dust.

There was even one hot dog vendor featured who adamantly refuses to serve ketchup with said hot dogs in Chicago. This is patently absurd. There is such a thing as having pride in your hometown traditions, and then there's being a full-tilt asshole. If I am a paying customer, and I choose to top my frank with a burnt turd, nobody should say a fucking word to me.

10. Fans at the United Center can eat shit.

Yeah, you're really clever, chanting "Detroit sucks" and "Sell more cars." That's hilarious. We suck so much that you should go read #2 and buy a fucking clue while you're at it. You know, the person who decided it was beyond funny to rag on a hockey team for the economic problems its city and state are facing really should be nominated for a show on Comedy Central.

I get it. It's supposed to get inside the players' heads. It's supposed to make Detroit's fans feel like ass.

And, by your own admission, since Detroit sucks and has nothing to offer except abject misery, I guess Chicago must feel like the scourge of the earth for losing last spring to such people.

But it really is a moot point. Sure, Michigan and Detroit proper may have seen better days. But it still didn't prevent the Wings from making the Stanley Cup Finals again last year. It won't prevent them from doing well this season, despite a shaky start. All it does is ignite the hatred even more and set the stage for an even sweeter victory when our team meets your team in the playoffs this year.

*****

The puck drops at 7:30. Let's get this thing popping.

Screw You, Tomas Kopecky.

Chris McCosky of The Detroit News had this scoop today:

There are two former Wings on the Blackhawks roster but only one will play Thursday. Marian Hossa is still out after surgery on his shoulder, but Tomas Kopecky will play and he's obviously looking forward to it.

"It'll be fun, and more fun when we beat them," Kopecky told the Chicago Sun-Times on Tuesday.

Whoa there, Tomas. Are you taunting your former mates?

"I just meant I would like to beat them, it's not that I guarantee anything," he said. "I'm not pulling back. I'd love to beat those guys."

So, wait a second.  The guy who's Marian Hossa's worse half and who I'm still not 100% certain even fucking played on the Wings' roster last year is calling out the team that beat his current team in the Western Conference Finals last year?

Sure, it'll be more fun when you beat us because until you do such a thing--and actually contribute to it, which means you'd better hand Hossa back his cloak of invisibility--you look like yet another overpaid product on whom Dale Tallon & Company made it rain benjamins, in an effort to convince people that this team actually has what it takes to go all the way.

"I'm not pulling back."  On second thought, this IS awfully frightening.  I worry that he's going to unleash the hidden fury on us tomorrow, scoring all 19 of the points that he took an entire fucking season to score last year in ONE GAME, thereby single-handedly destroying the Wings' will to achieve and Hockeytown's residents' will to live on.

Get fucking real.

I Love You, Detroit

Time Magazine's cover story this week features the city of Detroit--the story of its ascent, its decline, and now, its rebuilding.

And I just wanted to say:  I love you, Detroit.

During my visit there last February to attend a Wings' game (for Valentine's Day, as that's how my boytoy and I roll), people were so freakin' nice.  There's no way to overstate how friendly Midwesterners are.  We were so pumped to be attending a game at the Joe that we told everyone ever about how we drove eight hours to get there and how excited we were.  People outside Michigan often talk about facts and figures, representative of how sad the unemployment rate is there, how inexpensively you can purchase real estate, and how there's not much left in Detroit proper; however, what I witnessed in my trip to Detroit was a quiet proudness, a proudness that no statistics or unpleasant circumstances can smother.

Last season, Brian and I spent many, many nights at our local Buffalo Wild Wings watching Wings' games as we didn't have access to many of the games from home, which became pretty tumultuous during the Finals, as many of our fellow barflies were Pens' fans (seriously, barroom brawls were thisclose from ensuing).  Oddly enough, we met Wings' fans, traveling on business, on three different occasions, and on two of the occasions, invited them to sit with us.  They were shocked to find fellow Wings' fans so far from Michigan.  Each time, we went through the whole long story of how each of us were Wings' fans, and then we would talk, ad nauseum, about how awesome Michigan is and how we can't wait to go back.  (Well, I can at least say I talked ad nauseum--me + Red Wings + a few beers deep = will annoy the crap out of you by talking forever.)  Michiganders are so down-to-earth and laidback; I love it.

When all people hear is the number of abandoned homes or warehouses that line the streets of Detroit, they miss all the things there are to love about the city.  Downtown.  Greektown.  More specifically, Pegasus Taverna in Greektown.  SNOWFALLS.  The beauty of the waterfront.  How the entire city unites behind a team's playoff run.

59 +/- days till our next big adventure to the Motor City.  And I can't wait.

Oh, hell no.

I saw this garbage on NHL Snipers. AskMen.com has ranked Sidney Crosby the 34th most influential man in the world. Yes, in the entire world.

As much as I can't stand him, you won't hear any argument from me that Crosby is perhaps the most influential active player in the NHL. He's the undisputed face of the league. He's the anointed one. He's the guy everybody has an opinion on, love him or hate him. The mere mention of his name in hockey circles encites adoring raves or vile rants, depending on the audience.

But you mean throughout the entire world, filled with policymakers, philosophers, movers and shakers, and just important people in general, that Sid the Kid is the 34th most influential?

Give me a fucking break.

Mondays suck.

And I'm still bummed about the weekend. In order to remedy that, let's have a Hockey Celebrity Look-Alike Showdown.

Nicklas Lidstrom


vs.

Sting


Facts About Nicklas Lidstrom:

1. Has piercing blue eyes and fair hair.

2. Captains the best team EVER.

3. Has won the Norris Trophy as the league's best defenseman a bajillion times.

4. Dreams of Sweden, which, as we all know, completely and totally fucking rocks.

5. Facts about sexual life are unavailable.

Facts About Sting:

1. Has piercing blue eyes and fair hair.

2. Captained one of the lamest pop bands of the 80s.

3. Has won a measly sixteen Grammys. Big deal.

4. Dreams of rain-e-yaaaaayyy-aayyyyy-ayyyyyyyne, which is not nearly as bombass as Sweden, unless you're a farmer with no irrigation system. Otherwise, it's pretty fucking lame.

5. Is into tantric sex, which means he's had a boner since approximately 1984.

And the winner is...



Duh.

*****

As a bonus--and I can't take credit for this, as it's already all over the internet--here's another pair who may be Separated at Birth. I'm not going to bother with facts or a "showdown", as it pretty much speaks for itself. Enjoy.

In which I describe, at length, my journey to hockey fandom.

Hello, sunshines. How is it going all around Hockeyland and environs? It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood... I can't believe I just said that. Quickly moving on now...

So, a reader asked me recently where I was from, and I figured this would be a good segue for a post introducing myself a little more and getting to know the fabulous people who have started reading my blog (!).

I am a wild and wonderful West Virginia girl, born and raised. OK, so I totally know what your next thought is. "Why in the hell is she a Wings' fan?"

Well, the first step in my becoming a puckhead was the acquisition of a puckhead boyfriend. My better half for almost three years (Brian, who has commented on here and is officially listed as a co-author in the great annals of this blog's Blogger profile) took me to my very first hockey game early in our relationship while he was living in Omaha. I instantly fell in love with the game. It's graceful, aggressive, energetic, athletic, and just freakin' awesome. It takes so much work and talent to put points on the board, and ultimately, it's all about the game. If the game is close, what happens on the ice matters up until literally the last tenth of a second (which is why it's been so difficult to watch the Wings lately).

Also, hockey is different from the three other major sports in this country because the majority of hockey players actually give two craps about their jobs. I'm not saying there aren't football, baseball, or basketball players who don't work hard, but by and large, the American sports culture has turned into a cult of personality. How many times have you watched a baseball game and seen a player struggle to run around the bases? Or a basketball player who can't execute a free throw? Don't even get me started on the Pittsburgh Steelers' James Harrison--he who needed an oxygen tank after hauling ass down the length of the football field. A fucking OXYGEN TANK. These are things you can pay a strapping 12-year-old kid $20 to do for an hour, and he or she wouldn't have a problem. But multimillionaire athletes get a free pass, not only for these examples, but also for their asinine behavior, for no apparent reason other than the hero worship associated with professional athletes.

There is none of that in hockey. People give two shits about what they do, all the time. Sure, there are games when the team seems to be in autopilot, but that doesn't mean they forget how to skate or shoot the puck or any other basic skill integral to the game itself. Further, Pavel Datsyuk is notorious for hitting the gym immediately AFTER a full game (which is precisely when I would be reaching for my oxygen mask).

So, after I fell in love with the game itself, I needed a team to whom I could channel my adoration. Brian is a lifelong Wings fan. However, I thought it was super lame to jump on the bandwagon of my boyfriend's favorite team. Living where I do, the logical choice due to geography would have been either the Washington Capitals or the--ugh, I'm starting to feel a little queasy--Pittsburgh Penguins (uh-oh, I just ralphed all over my keyboard). Neither team especially jumped out at me, despite having superstars on their respective rosters (and--surprise, surprise--Sidney Crosby irritated the fuck out of me immediately). Moreover, I didn't want to join on any of the local bandwagons because that's just not how I roll.

The other team I considered in my quest for a soulmate was the Philadelphia Flyers, primarily because I have a soft spot for Philly in general. It's the site of my all-time favorite movie, Rocky. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia makes me want to flee there and live a life of debauchery and abject laziness. I love me some Philly cheesesteaks. Its sports fans might actually be clinically insane. What's not to love?

Unfortunately, I just couldn't get behind the organization. There just wasn't that...soulmate connection. You know what I mean. Two things make me uber glad I'm not a Flyers' aficianado: (1) Their owner invited hockey mom extraordinaire Sarah Palin to drop the puck for opening night last year. Oops, I just ralphed again. (2) I'd rather shit my pants and die than cheer for that asshat Chris Pronger.

In the meantime, I had been watching the Wings with my boyfriend, and something strange happened. I began to realize I was experiencing this familiar feeling, in the least expected of all places. Could it be...?

Against my vehement wishes, I realized I had feelings for the Detroit Red Wings.

I couldn't help myself.

It's kinda like falling in love with your best guy friend after looking for years and years for Mr. Right, and he was "right" there all along. (Oh, my, I'm hilarious. If someone makes a movie based on my life, does it make you gag to think my love of the Wings could write its own chick flick? I just died.)

They're just so fabulous. I mean, really, what's not to love? (And I mean it this time.) They are hard-working and ambitious. The organization is loyal. The superstars of the team itself are quiet and unassuming, so un-celebrity-like in their approach, on and off the ice. They don't get arrested for allegedly beating up cabbies over spare change. They don't go back to their home countries and diss American chicks for being fat. They don't badmouth their exes in public. They don't eat people's faces. They don't do this. Or this. Or this (WTF, Pumbaa?!).

Maybe those things don't bother some people. But they do bother me, for the reasons I listed earlier in this post about why I heart hockey so much. By and large, it's the antithesis of sports culture, and the Wings are the antithesis of stereotypical athletes. The most commercial thing we have is this:



And I'm totally ok with that.

Anyway, I'm so happy that you guys are reading my stuff. I know my BFF Maxie put the word out for my blog, which is how at least some of you found it. I just wanted to share my musings and observations with fellow hockey fans. One of the best parts of becoming a fan is having an instant brethren with like-minded people, and as I've said elsewhere on this blog, hockey fans are truly one of a kind.

That being said, I also love to hate on horrible things (obviously), which is also a fantastic part of being a fan. I love rivalries, I love hating people, and I love expressing my hate. My list of most-hated teams* goes like this:

1(a). Chicago Blackhawks.
1(b). Pittsburgh Penguins.
2. Anaheim Ducks.

It seriously took me 10 minutes to decide who nabs 1(a).

*I would include the Colorado Avalanche, but I'm not sure they really play hockey anymore. I think it might be more like sustained retching on the ice for 60 minutes, several times a week. It's hard say for sure, though.

So, that's the big, long story of how I became a Wings fan and why I started this blog. I'd love to hear from other fans (sure, even fans of horrible teams) how/why they became fans.

Oh, and one other thing: You might be wondering if I've ever been to an actual Wings game in person since I live 8 hours away. (Or, maybe you don't really give a shit, but I'm going to go ahead and tell you, anyway, since you've been so kind as to not "X" out of this window already.) The answer is yes. My boyfriend and I trekked to Detroit last February (and I use the word "trek" because it was most definitely arduous and ridiculous, but that's a story for another post) and watched the Wings take on the Minnesota Wild. We're actually traveling to Detroit again in December for a pair of games. On a scale of 1-10 of how excited I am, the answer is infinity.

I forgot to give this thing a title.

Well, fuck.

OK, OK: So, the whole Stockholm thing was a bust. The game yesterday was super depressing. It's so frustrating to watch your team come out so strong in a game and completely dominate, only to blow a lead, two days in a row, to an inferior team. Bleh.

To get it out of our system, I'm going to go ahead and whine about the things that pissed me off. Then, I'm going to make a list of all the things to which we are looking forward and greatly anticipating, both in hockey and in this blog:

First, the whining:

1. Mr. Jimmy Howard. No, I'm not ready to give up on him yet. The guy's got skills. He has the ability to make quick saves, and he seems to have the intuitive sense to withstand pressure from opponents (see Jordan Staal's penalty shot in last Sunday's preseason game).

But the third and fourth goals he gave up yesterday were inexcusable, especially the latter, since he had absolutely no idea what was happening on the ice. I don't know what this is, but I don't like it at all. Because I still want to give this guy a chance and because I don't want to have a nervous breakdown, I'm going to choose to believe he had an off night and that said two goals against are not indicative of the season to come.

I just might have to make sure I have a bottle of Jack nearby at all times whenever he starts this season.

2. Valterri Filppula. I've been waiting all summer to see more from him than what he's shown since the beginning of the preseason. Everyone's anticipating a breakout year for him. Start having one.

3. Can we please have a streak of games in which we are not trying to convert, during the last minute of play, from a 1- or 2-goal deficit? Please, please, please, please, PLEASE? For my own sanity, please. I wasn't ready to relive this during the preseason, and I hate starting off the regular season this way. Watching yesterday's last-minute 6-on-4 left a bad taste in my mouth. Sure, it's awesome to watch your team pull off a win in situations like these, but it's way, way, worse than a normal loss when you watch your team scramble from behind to try to pull off a win and wind up short. Our team is so much better than that. I'm sick of watching what inevitably feels like the last few minutes of Game 7 over and over and over.

4. It really fucking blows to lose twice in a row to St. Lounashbus, the clusterfuck that will be duking it out to be the bottom-rung 8th seed in the West.

Now, here are some things that made me happy yesterday:

1. Ville Leino. He had another good game yesterday. I like that each of the young'ns bring something different and unique to the roster: Darren Helm has that amazing speed and lack of any awareness of the state of his own physical well-being when he single-handedly DESTROYS opponents on the ice; Jonathan Ericsson is like 12'10" and is quick-thinking and strong and provides an offensive presence from the blueline; Justin Abdelkader is crazy-athletic and also has a big, physical presence. Leino has pizazz. I loved watching him skate around opposing players yesterday; when he brings his A-game, he has an almost-Datsyukian flourish that allows him to get by others, helping him hang on to the puck, and therefore, not piss me off.

2. Speaking of whom, Pavel Datsyuk. I could watch this guy skate laps around an empty rink. I just love watching him do what he does. He's my most favorite.

3. Nicklas Lidstrom. What can you really say about him that hasn't been already said? He's the best at his job. There's a reason he's won a gajillion Norris Trophies, and it's on display every single game. When people start ragging on the Wings for being over the hill, they need to tune in to a game (because obviously, they don't watch if they spew bile like that) and watch this guy at work.

4. HOMER SCORED A GOOOOOOOOAL!!!!!! Homer is my 2nd favorite on the team, now that Aaron Downey is no longer with us. I heart this guy. He has the worst job on the best team, he's the best in the league at said job, and he also gets no respect because he's the ripe old age of 36. Eat it, naysayers. This guy rocks my socks. And he will eat your soul if you step to his game.



And finally, as promised, a list of things to anticipate:

1. Eighty games lie ahead. Dropping the first two, in the grand scheme of things, is no biggie. Speaking of future games...

2. The Wings' real home opener is this Thursday against Chicago. I fucking hate the Blackhawks. A lot. I'm so excited. I just wish that assplug Marian Hossa was going to be in attendance. But that's OK; I'm still looking forward to this game with all my heart.

3. Also re: the Hawks, you can look forward to a post detailing all the ways in which this team sucks at life and provokes my ire upon the mere mention of its name. Who doesn't get pumped for a game by pure, unadulterated hatred?

4. OK, I can't help myself. Let's have a little preview of hating on the Hawks:



Ahhhh, that's nice.

Lord Stanley is ours for the taking. Let's do this thing.

FIRST WINGS GAME TODAAAAAAY...

...and you know what this means, boys and girls.

After today, only 81 more games until the playoffs.

And then 8 +/- weeks till Cup #12.

LET'S GO, WINGS.

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