Thrashers @ Wings tonight.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. I apologize to all three of The Scrappy Octopus's loyal readers for the sporadic posting over the past week or so; as Brian noted, I've been feeling under the weather (NOT dysentery, however, thank you very much--it was actually cholera, contracted somewhere between Independence and Chimney Rock; I didn't stand a chance in the wagon). So, this week, it's been no work for me, lounging about in my PJs with my awesome dog Lucy, enriching my brain with the likes of The Maury Show and conspiracy-theory bullshit on ID. (Have you WATCHED that channel?! The mind reels...) I emerged from my lair to write the piece of Georges Laraque the other day because I was too pissed to give lie detector results and paternity testing the full attention they deserve, but other than that, I've been taking it easy.

Speaking of Laraque, he's suspended for five games. Big fucking deal. I wish the NHL would institute a rule for people guilty of dirty hits to be suspended for the duration of time that their victims are sidelined due to injury. Or, I wish Brad May would just kick his ass. Whatever's easier.

So, I'm not going to talk about Monday's game against Nashville, not really because it sucked, but mostly because I didn't get to see it because Versus sucks ass, and I'm even more pissed because I didn't get to see Darren McCarty do his thing. It's kind of a silent protest. It's supposed to accomplish...something. I read about it once. Trust me; it'll work.

So, tonight, the Wings take on the Atlanta Thrashers. First things first: Can somebody please tell me what in the fuck their logo means?



It's almost Sphinx-like in its enigmatic nature, not to mention the fact that the head looks like it belongs to a creature different from the one to which it is attached. It's as if Michaelangelo masterfully drew the head of an eagle...and ran out of creativity and talent, and instead, crafted the rest of the body using a melty turd.

I've never met an Atlanta Thrashers fan. Since I'm assuming none of you have met any, either (because I'm pretty sure there are only, like, 40 total), I present you this. Gear down:



I most enjoy the song--not sure what it is, but I like to think of it as a love child of an "If They Mated" featuring the Oak Ridge Boys and Ricky Skaggs.

And because it's Thanksgiving, I'm going to be generous and give you a bonus:



I'm not sure what to be more impressed by: The fact that this guy cares that much about the outcome of the Thrashers game, or the fact that the following was posted in the comments section on YouTube:

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS. You will get kissed on the nearest possible Friday by the love of your life. Tomorrow will be the best day of your life. However, if you don't post this comment to at least 3 videos, you will die within 2 days. Copy and paste this, to be saved

Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no. I don't want to perish within the next two days! My festive dealer promised me a twofer on dime bags for Black Friday. (Just kidding, of course. I just wanted to make a lame joke. This blog and its writers are on the straight edge. Well, except for Brian. But that's only because he's attracted to the repetitious vowels in quaaludes.)

Have a marvelous Thanksgiving! Go Wings.

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: