Summertime and the living's easy...

And by "summer," TSO clearly means the area between approximately March 15 and October 1, when output from us is marginal at best and shiteous at worst.

I take full responsibility for our ineptitude as of late: Thanks to various members of the Wings' family Twitterati (I'm looking at you, Baroque and Andy), a burgeoning sense of shame and colossal failure resides in my soul. In fact, to quote one Baroque, "Allegedly you have a blog. It's been staring out of cyberspace with sad neglected puppy eyes lately." Combine that with Andy's, "Yeah I seem to remember you used to have a blog that used to be my favourite.." Also worth noting are the various "You're alive?!" exclamations we receive when we roll out of our burrows and surface on Twitter--kinda like varmint.

Maybe this is what deadbeat parents feel when a judge throws the book at them for failure to care for those whom they have brought into the world.

On second thought, maybe this is reason #9,246,821 why I should never procreate.

And now, because we still aren't completely at terms with Wings-less hockey continuing in June, we present you the following:

TSO Summer Survival Guide

1. Naked dance around the maypole to celebrate the triumphant returns of Lidstrom and Homer, and in Homer's honor, a night bonfire, complete with singing odes of joy into the night wind.

2. Tune in to the remainder of the SCF and cheer wholeheartedly for anyone who does anything vile to anybody on Chicago's roster. A-ny-one. The tag "I fucking hate the Chicago Blackhawks" has existed on this site practically from the start, and it overshadows any other grain of relative hate we typically feel for Pronger and semi-hate for Carcillo.

3. Start a Facebook movement: "Ville for Conn Smythe." We're so proud of the fact that we supported him from day one.

4. After the SCF have concluded, pass our time in various ways, most notably attempting great feats we've never had the time nor the inclination to do before, such as picking up Finnegans Wake...

5. ...and promptly putting it back down after half a page.

6. Finding a new go-to hairstyle for humor's sake now that fecal loaf Patrick Kane has ruined the mullet for all of us. My suggestion? The pompadour. Because what's more amusing than a hairstyle worn by Elvis that kinda looks like an asscheek? I don't know the answer to that.

7. Further my foray into the quotidian by becoming more of a gardening boss than I already am, releasing my rage one clump of topsoil at a time. In related news, the other half of TSO will probably commence searching for a new significant other whose true-age is not 75, whereas yours truly will be looking into retirement as a snowbird. Anybody know of a great condo in Tampa?

8. Finally get to clean out that TSO spam folder, which means learning of the inheritance owed to TSO, from when TSO's older, scrappier cephalopod ancestors found sunken treasure. Also, ascertain if the guy who promises, "I will pay you for clicking your mouse" knows what he's in for. Oh, and get that TSO bank account in Dubai straighted out.

In all seriousness, thank you to every single person we've met, conversed with, celebrated with, had a beer with, and hung out with, be it in person or online. Hanging with y'all on Twitter, conversing with everybody on TSO and other blogs, not to mention the H2H experience--it's made this season truly unforgettable. It's one thing to be a fan of the greatest franchise in professional sports. It's another thing to be friends with the greatest fans in the world. Thanks for everything you've given us over the past season and have a great summer. I mean, we'll talk lots over the summer and everything...if when we emerge before October.

Victory in the U-S-A Coincides with Wings Failing to Roast Ducks

The good news from last night? Team USA won the Gold Medal in the World Juniors Championship game against Canada, triumphing 6-5 in an overtime thriller. Truth be told, we watched the end of regulation and the approximately four minutes of overtime instead of watching most of the first period of the Wings game. Coincidentally, we switched back to the Wings game just in time to witness both of the Ducks' first period goals. Sigh.

A note on Team USA's victory: What a game. Seriously, I haven't seen that fast-paced and competitive of a game in...I'm not sure how long. Both team's defenses played extremely tightly, and play intensified during the third period, with little stoppage until the Americans got called with one of those irritating penalties resulting from a player being shoved into the opposing goaltender by another member of the opposing team. The Canadians scored two goals within a minute of one another late in the third period to force an uber exciting overtime.

A small taste of Olympic fever next month? Sign me up for being super excited.

Now, on to the Wings/Ducks game. We've seen the Wings put forth apathetic efforts in their recent losses; we've also seen them look tired and lethargic. But it's been a while since we've witnessed a game this utterly sloppy. My thoughts, as categorized thusly, in an attempt to begin formulating some sort of logical recap format:

The bright light at the end of the tunnel turned out not to be a train...at first.

In a game in which your team loses 4-1, you've gotta give the best moment of the night to the goalscorer, Valtteri Filppula. Filppula is still "getting back into the groove", as I dubbed his New Year's resolution; it was apparent tonight in his sometimes uneasy skating and handling. His goal, however, on an errant rebound from Jonas Hiller, was a temporary momentum-changer; it's too bad the Ducks scored shortly thereafter to distance the score by two points. This was Fil's first goal since his return five games ago.

I've hit rock bottom. Where's the whiskey?

Choose your own adventure:

1. Saku Koivu notches career goal #200...shorthanded...against us.

2. Brian Rafalski is on the ice and is in some way culpable for all of the Ducks' goals tonight.

3. Corey Perry (bleh) scores a goal after every player ever piles in front of Jimmy Howard.

4. James Wisniewski graces us with his presence with John Keating on FSD+. His day-glo hair singes my retinas.

5. Wings achieve their first loss to the Anaheim Ducks this year in a shitshow of a game.

Scrappiest moment of the night:

When Todd Bertuzzi straight up body-slammed Bobby Ryan. Worth at least 500 points in my book.

Players who didn't piss me off:

1. Valtteri Filppula because he scored the lone goal.

2. Nicklas Lidstrom, who notched an assist on Fil's goal and made crucial defensive moves.

3. Patrick Eaves, who was thisclose to burying a nice breakaway chance.

4. Mattias Ritola, who also created a decent scoring chance.

5. Ville Leino, who watched the game from the rafters.

Players who need to wake the fuck up:

1. Pavel Datsyuk. Although he also earned an assist tonight on Fil's goal, he was largely invisible for most of the game.

2. Brian Rafalski, for the abovesaid.

3. All other defensemen not named Nicklas Lidstrom or Brad Stuart.

Pearls of wisdom from your scrappy grandma:

How do you expect your team to win when they spend 99.9% of the time getting dry humped through the neutral zone?

Once you know, you can never go back.

Well, well. There is something both Derek Meech and Doug Janik excel at, and it's called getting their asses handed to them.

Also, ice melts in Southern California. I know, right? I was as shocked as you are.

Finally, it's nice to see we can still slip into the old patterns of giving a shit for the final 10 minutes of regulation. Because, you know, it would be a shame to squander the game in its entirety.

It's TWENTY-ten, and I've packed my game face.

We at The Scrappy Octopus turned over the calendar yesterday and, after getting over our epic but much-deserved hangovers, performed an ancient, spiritual ceremony to cleanse both our physical and mental selves of the toxins of the year past. In other words, we collected the following items, grabbed the closest metal barrel, and lit the motherfucker ablaze:

1. Our Owl City CD. (Just kidding. There's no way we'd torch this. We're getting into this all-natural trend and trying to avoid ingesting excessive chemicals, so we use "Fireflies" as our own panacea for impacted bowels. Works like a charm.)

2. Our first-aid kit--because we're fucking sick of injuries, and we're outlawing them. I'm not going to try to make a joke here because this isn't funny.

3. Our stalker-esque diary we've maintained, chronicling our unrequited correspondence between ourselves and Georges Laraque. Ever since we stumbled upon this website and realized that the love of our lives had been so close, and yet so far, for so long, we've been unable to sleep at nights. So many restless evenings, I've found myself pacing in a dreamlike state on my widow's walk, wearing my very best prairie cult frock, performing an interpretive dance of the fury that rages both in my heart and in my loins for Mr. Laraque. I've written him many times, setting my words of passion and truth onto parchment with my finest quill pen set, only to get in return, at first, mere silence, then a stern warning from Mr. Laraque's alleged "legal counsel", and, finally, a formal writ to cease and desist from the proper authorities. Sigh. Such is the rollercoaster that is love. Alas, we're moving onward and upward, the details of which shall be discussed anon. Now that I've set afire the record of my blunders of the heart, maybe I will be able to achieve a peaceful state of mind once more.

4. Our Stanley Cup Finals 2009 gear. Yeah, it qualifies, even though it feels like a lifetime ago. Gone in the fire--now it officially never happened.

5. All whistles have been sent to the furnace. Got a problem with it? Intend to blow me.

6. The memory of Tomas Kopecky ever playing for the team. Why now, of all times, to choose to forget about him? Because he hasn't done shit for Chicago. I know, it seems counterintuitive, but trust me: The way my petty brain works, if he had been succeeding under Q-Factor's tutelage, I would vow never to back down and never to get scared.

7. Wait, Claude Lemieux was on a figure skating show? And he almost won? HilARious. Balls, I must have forgotten that already. Thank Christ for my lame but apparently crucial "Octopus Ink" to remind me of all the things that have pissed me off in my time writing here. To the fire!

8. Once upon a time, I publicly proclaimed that I fucking hated Ville Leino. I was wrong. My tortured soul confused "hate" with unadulterated, animal lust. (Yep, this counts as discussing it "anon".)

9. I once posted a photo of Finn the Whale on here. I apologize profusely. Never again.

Tonight, the Wings play their first game of the new year in Phoenix; most recently, they trumped the Avs at home with a 4-2 win on New Year's Eve. Mr. Leino himself netted a goal, and while I don't want to toot my own horn, I would like to say that I got a direct Tweet from him after the fact saying that he credits his good luck with wearing his lady's favors beneath his armor (read: he totally had the panties that I sent him on his person).

A few New Year's resolutions on TSO's part:

1. To write more consistently than we have over the past month or so. The fact that we won't be tripping off candy cane highs and eggnog lows should help.

2. To figure out finally how to pronounce Mattias Rittola's name. For shame, I never know if I have it correct.

3. To reenact this with Vilster (Did...did they just say what I think they did? It couldn't be...):



4. To live to see Nicklas Lidstrom score a goal. I'm beginning to believe Johan Franzen Halley's Comet Jesus Christ will return sooner.

5. Can January be the next April?

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.

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.

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.