Wings extinguish Flames 4-2.

After a rest period of no fewer than 2.5 light years, Red Wings hockey returned tonight with a visit by the Calgary Flames to the Joe.

--How fitting was each of the Wings' four goals tonight? Zetterberg with his Flying Circus comrades, then Lidstrom, both of whom were previously goal-less in the young season, scored absolute Miss-Universe-with-real-cans beauties of goals, then Franzen scored on an otherwise indescribable Franzenesque chance off Kiprusoff's person. Kinda makes me regret the decision to tell B earlier in the game that Kipper always plays against us like he has a chip on his shoulder... Oh, and how about that last one from "I still have a purpose here" Man o'Lantern? Happy early Halloween, kiddos.

--Jimmy Howard looked absolutely on point tonight. While naysayers and worrywarts fret about sophomore slumps, he's kicking ass, taking names and probably nailing your girlfriend...in your girlfriend's dreams.

--In reference to Ruslan Salei's net-lifting, I have just one thing to say: Maybe we should kiss again to teach him a lesson about obvious. If you don't know, now you know.

--Anybody fascinated by the concept of time travel should probably get in touch with Mark Giordano, as I'm pretty sure he visited 1956 and stole Elizabeth Taylor's eyebrows.

--Speaking of pretty, anybody else still a little skeeved out by Mickey's talkgasm over seeing a helmet-less Kronner early in the game? I think it went a little something like, "Oh, my, that's a beautiful sight..." followed by some grumble-sighs, but it's all mostly fuzzy and redacted in my mind's eye. Something about a switch flipping to prevent the ol' PTSD from reoccurring...

--Jarome Iginla must dislike playing us.

--Yeah, it goes without saying on this site, and yeah, I've written several odes to the guy explaining exactly how I feel, but it's a new season, and I've gotta say it again: There will come a day when we no longer see Homer's upset face jabbering at opponents between whistles. Until that day, I move that FSD establish a permanent Homer Iso-Cam so we can watch him go through the motions of being Tomas Fucking Holmstrom at all times.

--Curtis Glencross is challenging Mason Raymond for TSO's favorite "Could Be a West Virginian" name. Negative points for not having a full name comprised of two first names, but bonus points for having a compound surname that sounds like either country directions ("I think she lives out on the bypass, at the glencross") or a country threat ("Imma cut that bitch if I don't glencross her first").

--Finally, since I know there are so many of you who found your way here because we're the top two Google results for "Doug Janik falls down" (check it, ingrates!), what about that time Doug Janik fell down tonight? Clock that one into the ol' spank bank, boys and girls.

Tonight's win felt fan-fucking-tastic. Let's do it again on Saturday against the Quacks.

Welcome back, Wings. And welcome back to US

With this post I'd like to officially reintroduce The Scrappy Octopus back into the blog world!

You missed us, admit it.

Sure, we may have taken the off-season pretty much off...But we just didn't feel like posting the 300th opinion on Mike Modano's lengthy decision making process. Here we are though back and ready for another Wings season. What better way to kick it off than with our first game recap of the season? First, however, a little background on who we are (for those who may have forgotten). Pay close attention.

We are two people who happen to be gigantic Wingz fans. The site was created by Natalie, who just so happens to love Aaron Downie and Thomas Holmstrum. I have been a Wingz fan since I was a wee little kid. My favorite player growing up? Yzermen, of course. I always had a soft spot for Ozgood, as well. We started this little corner of the world as a place to rant and say ridiculous shit about hockey and the Wingz. We believe Babcoc and Hollend to be brilliant and the Wingz to be the best run organization in hockey. In short, we've fully digested the Kool-Aid and 100% bleed Red and White. Our blog doesn't accomplish much. We write ridiculous shit in a small corner of the web. We're all about having fun over here.

We also like to think we know a little about hockey.

One thing we'll never claim to be, though--the go-to place for all Red Wings-related things. We will, however, care about what we're doing. We watch games and we talk about it here. We watch for absurd memes (the Wings are old or no one is critical of the Wings! OH NOES!!!) and dissect them. In short, we're just fans with an outlet. Oh, and we'll always spell Wings-related names right. Cause, come on, dedicated folks would at least look that shit up right? Cause, if not, you'd just look absurd (I'm sure you cringed as you read my intro paragraph. See what I did there?).

We'll also promise to never start our own podcast. Ever.

With all that being said - Welcome back to us. We missed you folks.

Some random thoughts on last nights pre-season game:

1. The part of pre-season that fascinates me most (other than just being super pumped that hockey is back) is the young player development. On that note...Brendan Smith could use a year in Grand Rapids, am I right? He showed some 'WOW' potential, but looked kind of lost at times.

2. It was great to see, even in a pre-season game vs. Chicago's B team (or, as you could also call it, their 2nd-5th lines and farm system), the Wings completely dominate play.

3. The 4th line of Emmerton, Mursak, and Owens was pretty damn good, wasn't it?

4. Random question - Is it absurd to say that Joey MacDonald looked better last night than last season's mail-in version of Ozzie? If, god forbid, Jimmy went down...Would you place last season's Ozzie in net or a Joey Mac that actually gives a shit? This coming from an Ozzie apologist (who is curious to see Oz tonight).

5. You could bring back a few players from the last time Chicago won a Cup (prior to last year).....and I'm sure they would be miles ahead of some of the turds who suited up last night.

6. Is it too early to call for Tomas Tatar as President of Space? That kid is something else and looked explosive as hell out there.

7. Jonathan Ericsson. Come on, buddy. You're better than that.

You'll have to take all my above thoughts and dial them back by like half, since it was only a pre-season game against Chicago's B team.

Some random thoughts in preparation for tonight's game:

1. Top-liner Jordan Owens...that should be cute.

2. I'm interested to see Bert on the ice tonight. Win me over, sir. With the moves the Wings made in the off-season, bringing in Modano, getting Hudler back, and re-signing EVERYBODY, Bert seems unnecessary. Yeah, I know, he's there and I have to deal with that. Some player I'd rather see will sit most of the season so I can enjoy the Todd Bertuzzi experience nightly. You know, that rollercoaster of occasional greatness, coupled with longer periods of invisibility and dumb penalties.

3. I'm placing the over/under of Aaron Downey game time tweets from Nat at 6. Welcome back, Aaron. You were missed.

4. Also excited for my first pre-season peeks at Kindl, Ozzie, McCollum, and Andersson.

In closing....Go Wings. We're happy you're all back.

Untitled

Figuring out how to start the first post I've written in nearly three months is the blogging equivalent of debating whether to wave to someone you kindasorta recognize because you know that you'll most likely have to do that thing where you pretend like you were batting at a bug or attempting to take flight and NOT, in fact, claiming you know a complete stranger.

I couldn't even think of an appropriate title, so I'm leaving it "Untitled," hoping especially that you'll think of distracting mancreases (How does it feeeeee-eeeeeel?) and decide that you're still in love with us after all this time.

So, uh, yeah, hello again, friends!

Brian and I sincerely hope everyone has had a bonerific summer. I decided it was probably time to get back into the swing of writing after three things occurred: (1) HBFF Neuie pointed out that her Starbucks will start selling pumpkin spice Frappuccinos TOMORROW, which means fall is right at our (back)doorstep. (2) Another Neuie-inspired joint: The phrase "at least [insert number] Scrappy Octopi" became a term coined for when something happens really infrequently or happened long ago, such as "Todd Bertuzzi has been forced to gum it out for at least four Scrappy Octopi." (3) Someone informed me that even Google had turned cynical:

First things first: Because there's nothing we dislike more than unresolved bidness, we have something to say to the small faction of Wings' fans who jumped ship and cheered on the Hawks during their Cup run: See that big X in the upper-right corner of your screen? Please click it. Note that there's a tag on here entitled "I fucking hate the Chicago Blackhawks" that's as old as the site itself. Rivalries exist for a reason, and I'll give you a hint: That reason isn't so that we can jump on the newest, glitteriest bandwagon that shows up once our team is down for the count, even if said bandwagon happens to include Patrick Sharp and Jonathan Toews, who are OMFGCOPTERSOCUTE.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, here goes--we're gearing down and keying up for the 2010-11 season. A brief (as if we'd spend more than 30 seconds on a list? puh-leeze...) list of things we are excited for heading into this brand new season, in no particular order:

1. Aaron Downey's slated appearance at training camp. OK, so this statement clearly applies to only 1/2 of the TSO staff. But the news that he was extended an invitation is cause enough for celebration. Dance party, anyone?

2. The re-signing of Helmer and Abdelkader, hereafter referred to as more fuckyeah than you can shake a stick at.

3. Long-term blog BFFs Petrella, Discher, and Hollis have joined forces by forming a triumvirate of mythical proportions. This includes rolling The Production Line and the Red Wings podcast now known as The Production Hour into one uber-conglomerate of awesomeness.

4. Welcoming Marty Turco to the Central Division.

5. Watching the majority of the Wings' roster pop their Geritol and hobble onto the ice using their canes in an old-fashioned race to the top of the West. Be careful not to choke on your horehound lozenges, boys! (This is the time of year when we most remember why we try not to pay attention to MSM. Attention 2011 NHL Yearbook: Pointing out that Bert is "showing some wear and tear" is akin to pointing out that the sky is blue and Roger Sterling is a silver foxxx. Duh.)

With training camp and the preseason mere weeks away, what are y'all most excited for? What's lit your fire and keeping you awake at night? Is it pondering the future successes of our goaltenders? Is it imagining the number of times Doug Janik falls down? (Brian's fave.) Is it vigorously debating whether Ruslan Salei looks more or less like a Craigslist personals' enthusiast than Ville Leino?

Let's go, Wings.

Let's make sure this is adequately bloated.

I'm pretty sure somewhere Dany Heatly just demanded a trade.

So the Wings have staved off elimination for another day, winning tonight fuck you-1. A statement game that San Jose didn't seem to care about. And why should they? They are up 3-1. The Wings have to win three in a row, an extremely tough task against this San Jose team. Who knows if they can pull it off, but it was nice to watch the effort tonight. It's good when you can see your team move up and down the ice with ease and know that they can pretty much do whatever they want on the ice. We've not seen that Wings team often enough through the playoffs; I'm glad it happened tonight.

Since we've received some feedback stating this site doesn't provide much in the way of game analysis (and we at the Scrappy Octopus take all complaints seriously), allow us to provide our take on the game:

The Sharks shit the bed. Oh, and Joe Thornton acted a fool. Great leadership, guy.

So there you have it. It's simple when you break it down scientifically. Now, the Wings still have a huge hole to climb out of. It's going to be hard. McLellan is an amazing coach. Marleau, Thornton, Pavelski, Blake...it's a talented group. All the right role players. It's going to be a tough road. Tonight, however, the Wings started the first step in that process - they won tonight.

Three more guys. Oh, and Nat wanted me to quote her on something: "Abdelkader's fight was very Downey-like". Her words, not mine (though I feel her on that one). I'm pretty sure if Abby's right would've connected, it would've killed a guy.

Go Wings. Let's get this done.

The Kitchen Sink

So, just a little while ago, I was tooling around on Twitter, dazzling my followers with ever-deep insights ("Sometimes, when I write 'Nat' too quickly, it looks like 'Nut.' This makes me happy.") while counting down the minutes until I'm reunited with my distant lova/BFF and we can catch up the way we always do (updating each other on numbers of surprise rimjobs attempted on our persons and debating the merits of boning in a car that also includes children's booster seats) when Drew from Nightmare on Helm Street requested that I post something for his perusal today. Never one to turn down a friendly request from a fellow blogger, here goes: The Kitchen Sink.

That's what we're hereby proclaiming the final 19 games, the homestretch, the jumbo-loaded, four-cheese burrito, if you will. Because that is precisely what the Wings are going to have to throw at their opponents, night after night, to make this playoff thing happen.

Now, before you wonder if TSO is doubting the ability of the Wings to finish the race to the postseason, let us present you with the newly minted TSO creed:

The Newly Minted TSO Creed

1. We believe the Wings have all the pieces necessary not only to make the playoffs, but also to generate a strong playoff run, right through to the very end.

2. We believe Pavel Datsyuk is straight up country-pissed after Russia's disappointing Olympic run, not to mention frustrated with the Wings' current situation (have you ever seen him straight up punch a guy in the face before?!), and he will use "more shoot" to exact vengeance over the next 19.

3. We believe Nicklas Lidstrom is far too perfect to miss out on any postseason.

4. We believe Henrik Zetterberg was put on this earth not simply to make little girls (and boys--hi, Brian) lust after his silky whiskers, but to wreak playoff havoc by dry-humping the opposition's top forwards all over the ice.

5. We believe in Mike Babcock. Period.

6. We believe in the unmatched power of the Mule.

7. We believe the universe doesn't want to exist in a universe in which there's no postseason redux of the Darren Helm kill .

8. We believe that if there is a God, he/she doesn't want to witness the debacle that would inevitably occur if #96 is irked: Homer getting his hands on authentic Viking artillery and destroying the shit out of his mortal enemies.

9. We believe in dancing with Lord Stanley in June. Period.

So, that's it. That's our game plan. We're just going to repeat this to ourselves at every juncture along the next several weeks and wait for the best. Got anything you'd like to add? I intentionally stopped at #9 for obvious reasons, but add away at the bottom of the post till we get to another benchmark number, and we'll tack on a codicil to the creed.

And now--because The Kitchen Sink applies not just to the Wings but also to TSO--we're pulling out all the stops, mixing some old favorites with some new jointz. Let's go, Wings:

Red Wings vs. Tropical Storms - A Running Diary

So, tonight the Wings are taking on the Carolina Hurricanes. Generally, it’s hard to get up for a seemingly meaningless regular season game against the worst team in hockey, but this season is different. To borrow a phrase from the lovely folks at Nightmare on Helm Street, this game has turned into a "must not lose". Bundle that with the fact that the Wings, for whatever reason, cannot get up for bad teams, and you have an extremely worried fan base...

But I'm still going to talk an ample amount of shit. Why? Because it’s the Hurricanes. The Carolina Hurricanes. THE LAST PLACE HURRICANES. I have the added personal benefit of knowing a Hurricanes fan! My good friend Chris Mullan, one time co-worker, now Raleigh, NC, resident, is a fairly big Hurricanes fan. Is he the only one? Probably. The Hurricanes should be harmless; however, I'm going give you a list of reasons to dislike them:

1. They used to be the Hartford Whalers. The Mighty Whale. Remember seeing them when you played NHL 93? Hearing their song when a goal was scored? That was something, wasn't it? Hartford probably sucks as a town. The Whalers were badass, and now they're in Carolina, and that's unfortunate.

2. Their jerseys. Much has been written about these things, but my, they are a piece of work. They look like a bag of runny shit and throw-up all mixed together.

3. As noted by TPL today, Rod Brind'Amour looks like an asshole.

4. Personally, I don't like warm weather hockey. Is it irrational? Sure, but if it’s warm there in winter, it feels unnatural.

5. It’s disappointing that most fans who show up to their games are saddened by the fact that the game is actually NOT NASCAR on ice.

Do they have a dedicated fan base? Maybe. But who cares? It’s Carolina. So, to commemorate the hopeful Wings beatdown of my friend's team, I decided to honor the occasion with a running diary (a concept I fully accept that I am borrowing from Bill Simmons, TTD, Fight Night at the Joe, and any others out there who have done the same, and probably better)! Here’s hoping I don’t eat my words.

PREGAME

7:31 – Welcome from the Scrappy Hacienda (even our house is scrappy)! Mickey Redmond just winked at me personally (Natalie says it was at her. Whatever). One point out of a playoff spot? Definitely a must-not lose.

7:34 – The first Murph appearance. He looks a bit flushed and is probably already half in the bag.

FIRST PERIOD

7:41 – The Big Rig’s first appearance on the ice. It is good to see. Why? No more Doug Janik. (Wouldn’t you rather it have been no more Derek Meech? He can eat a dick.)

7:43 – Something to note: the Cleary, Filpula, Miller line looks good tonight. As does the Hank, Datsyuk, and Bert line. Somewhere, Michael Petrella takes another bitter drink.

7:49 – Nice scoring chance by Lidstrom set up by Datsyuk. He looks like a man possessed. My question: Is it really so difficult to get up like that every game? Typing that makes me sad.

7:53 – Nat is reading a cookbook while watching the game. This would be a great time to point out that in addition to being amazing, funny, smart, etc., she’s also an amazing cook. If there were an #H2H cookoff, she would win.

7:55 – Penalty on someone named Jerome Sampson. Can anyone state definitively that they have heard of him before tonight? If so, you’re a better person than me.

7:56 – LIDSTROM SCORES! Slapshot and a great screen by Drew Miller. 1-0 Wings. Confused, Carolina fans clamor for the Hurricanes to change Crew Chiefs.

8:05 – Jimmy looks good so far tonight. He’ll need it, as Fil just went to the box for tripping.

8:06 – Patrick Eaves is one scrappy little son of a bitch. Two pucks to the upper body, and he still gets the clear on the PK. Who else hopes this kid is back next season? ME, ME!!!! Observation from Natalie, and I quote: “This is the worst group of puck handlers I’ve ever seen”, in reference to Carolina. On a related note, Carolina is in last place.

8:08 – How did Fil not bury that pass from Datsyuk? Hot damn. When Datsyuk is playing like this, when he’s in “Fuck you, I’m Pavel Datsyuk” mode, he really is amazing to watch. Unfortunately, he is only that guy every third game nowadays.

8:10 – The Wings lead 1-0 at the end of one. First period observations:

1. The Wings look MUCH better tonight.
2. John Keating and Murph drank before the game. A LOT.
3. Jimmy is on tonight.
4. I’m EXTREMELY thankful to NOT have to hear about Lidstrom’s goal drought anymore.
5. Mickey York’s hair is certainly spiky enough to kill a guy.

8:19 – Intermission entertainment: Iron Chef America, Morimoto vs. some poor soul who will get pummeled by Morimoto. It may be cliché to say it, but Morimoto is easily one of the baddest men on the planet. If you say that to someone, and they disagree with you, that’s a clear indicator they are a Communist.

8:24 – Just got delivered a bowl of ice cream by Nat. She rules. I just saw a commercial for a show on the Food Network about a kitchen boot camp for people who can’t cook. My question – How am I NOT on that show? A quick list of things I’ve literally set on fire while cooking: two ovens (pizza), spinach, green beans, Spaghetti-O’s (they were literally black). I have given food poisoning to Nat with undercooked chicken. Um, I shouldn’t be allowed near a kitchen. Ever. Thankfully, I can peel a mean potato.

Second Period

8:29 – Howard leaves a juicy rebound in front, but these are the Hurricanes, so it’s ok. Jussi Jokinen tries to commit homicide on Kerry Frazer via Helm. Detroit power play.

8:30 – Drew Miller, you old so-and-so. 5th of the season. Right place, right time. I love what this kid brings to the table. Is he a 4th liner when we’re healthy? Sure. But I like him.

8:32 – Natalie: “Ref, yah suspect!” regarding the non-penalty shot slashing call. Whatever. Another power play goal?

8:34 – No power play goal. Best chance was a Carolina shot on their own goal. Is it possible to simply erase the fact that Carolina won a cup? Can’t we all agree it never happened?

8:40 – Excellent breakaway chance by Bert, who is playing well tonight. He really is skating like he has something to prove to Michael Petrella personally. Maybe he read a certain list……?

8:45 – Power play comes and goes. The Wings with several good chances. How terrible would Carolina be if Cam Ward weren’t there? And how badly do you think he’d like to be ANYWHERE else?

8:48 – My favorite moment thusfar? Fil making Brind’Amour look like an asshole.

8:56 – Bert just hit the post. I think I just saw him mouth the words “Love me TPL. Won’t you love me?” Natalie: “You know what Bert’s favorite clothing store is? The Gap”. HA!

9:00 – Ward saves on a breakaway, then on a giveaway, and another without a mask. Wow. He is ridiculous in goal. Anyone remember that series against Buffalo in the playoffs? When Ward is on, he is REALLY good. I’m not trying to pile on, but other than Ward, the Hurricanes REALLY look like a last place team.

9:03 - End of the 2nd, 2-0 Wings. Intermission ahead, or as Carolina fans refer to it, “Time for a pit stop”. Intermission entertainment will be Office Space. Timeless.

Third Period

9:26 – Three minutes into the third and the Wings look good. FSN just showed a goaltender stat graphic. I only mention this to state that Tukka Rask and Ilya Bryzgalov are two of the goofiest looking people I’ve ever seen. Thank god goaltending doesn’t require you to be pretty.

9:32 – Nice save by Jimmy on a redirect. Jimmy looks great, and Carolina is impotent. Mickey is confusing Aaron and Cam Ward and made some sort of bizarre King James reference. Get that man another beer!

9:34 – Um, Jimmy. Come on, buddy. I thought we were over this inability to control rebounds. 2-1 Carolina. That was horseshit. And now a hooking penalty. You remember those games Detroit has, where they’re ahead and seemingly have the game in hand, and then take their foot off the gas (or let in a soft goal), and all of a sudden it’s a game again? Um, that’s not whats happening here, right? Right? Anyone? Somebody hold me.

9:38 – Great kill by the Wings. Great recovery by Maltby to lift that stick. That was so very needed.

9:45 – Darren fucking Helm. Hustling, creating chances, but no goal. Great save by Ward on Eaves. Question – What would the score be tonight if Manny Legace were in goal tonight? How many emo statements would he make after the game? Food for thought. My guess? 4-1 and 7. I cannot believe he is still being paid to play hockey.

9:46 – 3-1 Wings. Nice pass Bert. That turnover is why the Hurricanes are the Hurricanes. I don’t even need to say anything else here.

9:53 – What a stop on Bert’s breakaway. Drew Miller scores a goal; unfortunately, it is because he lifted the back of the net. Um, that doesn’t count sir. He kicked it and everything.

9:55 – How did Bert’s wrist not get broken? Game over. Lets pile on and get another goal or two. Serves you right for leaving Hartford. Jackasses, the lot of you.

9:58 – Game over. 3-1 Wings.

And that's all she wrote. The Hurricanes have been downgraded to a Tropical Storm. This is the kind of effort that you need night in and night out, and it was refreshing to see tonight. The 1st line played ridiculously well, the role players came through big, and Lebda/Meech didn't play like a complete bag of ass. I'll take that.

Go Wings.

Wings cock punch Sharks, win 4-1

How do you follow up one of the best goaltending exhibitions that most people have seen (myself not included, as I went to bed, as I am old and work super early in the morning)? You dominate the second-best team in hockey.

After a fairly even first period, the Wings dominated the remainder of the game, rattling off four unanswered goals. It was kind of a needed performance after allowing poor Jimmy to get shelled against the Kings. The defense looked decent, the offense looked good. In this game, the team looked closer to the Red Wings we're used to and against a good Sharks team. That's encouraging. As usual when I fill in, a few observations from the game:

1. It's fun to watch Jimmy grow this season. Opinions in the preseason ranged somewhere between "Let's give the kid a chance" to "I wonder if Beachball Cloutier will still be available after he fails". To be fair, it was easy to doubt. This kid has stepped up. It's almost to the point where you don't really know what else can be said. Great game by Jimmy. Again. The game looks easy for him right now.

2. Also fun to watch - the evolution of Darren Helm. I hope this kid is around for a long time.

3. 70 goals Heatley, while having a good season, is going to have to pick up the pace a bit, isn't he?

4. Thank you, St. Louis. I know it's early, but being in 9th is worrisome anytime.

5. Non-Red Wing related, this video is fun! Kick ass Russian fighting.

6. I did not think Dan Cleary had wicked, well-placed wrist shots in him.

7. My thoughts on this team overall - right now, I know we're in ninth, but this team is endearing, isn't it? I mean, we're all Wings fans, and we have our favorite moments. Yzerman's toughness, the Russian Five, Hasek, Bowman, et al. This year's team is interesting and chocked full of all kinds of stories. This is the closest I've seen the Wings to being a team of "cast-offs". Look at some of the players who have stepped up. Todd Bertuzzi, bane of TPL's existence, has stepped up in a big way with everyone injured. Tomas Holmstrom, given up for dead by so many (sadly? I'm slightly guilty of this. I love him, but I was worried he was done after last year), has hooked himself up to the rejuvenation machine. The evolution of Darren Helm from young spark plug to dynamic force you can't take your eyes off of (lest you miss something amazing). Young players like Abdelkader stepping up before they're ready. Cast-offs, people who were either waived during the season (Drew Miller), getting no offers in the off-season (Bert, Doug Janik), or completely given up on (think Carolina wishes they had Patrick Eaves)? They're really hanging around with this crew? This year's team is gritty. The fact that the Wings are even 9th right now in the West is largely due to coaching and leadership. We're lucky to have Uncle Mike and company and a great front office who time and time again find these spare parts on the scrap heap.

I guess what I'm saying here is this is a team I'll remember, what they've overcome and how they've hung in there. Maybe Jimmy is our goalie of the future; maybe he's Jim Carrey. Maybe some of our young players won't pan out. Maybe some of these guys who are around this year will flame out. One thing is for sure - this is a team I'll remember, and I like where they're headed. They are playing good, sound, tough hockey. Missing all the players they've missed, and they survive. This team is going to be even more ready to go once players start trickling in from IR. By the time Franzen gets back, everyone SHOULD be healthy, and won't that be around the time this team is hitting its stride? You think the top folks in the West want to play this team in the first round?

Next year's team is going to look different from this one. I'm certainly enjoying this year's team, though. This was a good win tonight. Go Wings.

Holy shit, Jimmy Howard.

What else do you expect me to write when the Wings get outshot 52-24 and still win 2-1? Making 51 saves during a not-so-hot performance by the Wings' defense and offense, Jimmy should have earned his second career shutout tonight.

The only other thing to add: Holy shit, Darren Helm and his game-winning goal, scored with 18.2 seconds left in the third period following the Kings' tying goal on a power play. Wow.

Hey, at least we were the beneficiaries of one of these ridiculously lopsided games.

That's all I'm writing tonight. I don't have the courage to discuss Homer...yet. Let's just say there were tears tonight, and I'm not ready to go into detail.

Googly Eyes: The Art of Simultaneously Looking Backward & Forward

And now, please join The Scrappy Octopus for our fantabulous first-half-of-the-season review, to be told the only way we know how: through an inane blurb describing what happened during the first half of the season, which shall be reinterpreted through what we imagine to be the individual players' New Year's resolutions, which shall also double as our predictions/previously unspoken hopes for the latter half of this season.

(Note: I made an effort to focus on players who had received a decent amount of ice time during the first half of the season and/or will be returning soon, so no discussing the likes of Johan Franzen or Jakub Kindl or Mattias Ritola. The Mule, a.k.a. my second-favorite redhead after my partner-in-crime here, will have his own celebratory post upon his return.)

Nicklas Lidstrom

It's no secret that Nick hasn't had the most stellar season offensively. He hasn't scored a goal since...well, let's just say that Brian was sporting parachute pants, and I probably had a chin-length bob that I rocked with my Girl Power platforms (I'm nodding at you, Metal Spice) when we saw it last. We give him a pass to some extent because he's had to elevate his defensive play (wait, is that even possible?) due to injuries, which have managed to core the roster since October. Also, Nick has stayed busy earning assists left and right, so how much can we actually slight him for lack of goals scored of late? Still, as Chris over at Motown Wings pointed out yesterday in his fantastic recap of the first 41 games, Lidstrom and typical linemate Brian Rafalski have managed to earn the best plus/minus of the defensive pairings; conversely, Nick and Derek Meech are tied for the worst of all blueline partners. But really, do we ever actually blame anyone for anything when it involves Derek Meech? I'm pretty sure if you were on trial for the most heinous crime--I'm imagining genocide on the scale of hundreds of thousands of victims--and you could somehow insinuate on even the most circumstantial level that Mr. Meech made you do it or that he was simply present at one of your meetings calculating the megalomania, you would be issued the grandest pardon by the world's superpowers for not only accusing you inappropriately of such a disgusting crime, but, even more insultingly, for wasting your time with the judicial process. (Seriously, guys, keep that one in your back pocket--I know at least a couple of you out there are sketchy derelicts. If it works, here's an advance on an exploding fist bump, directed right your way.)

Resolution: To get over this scoring drought (duh) and to celebrate by making the sweetest form of cyborg love to his beautiful Valkyrie princess (seriously, have you seen his wife?!). Oh, and to look forward to the day when he can throw away his countdown calendar enigmatically labeled, "Days 'Til D.M. and D.J. Get the Fuck Out of My House and Return to G.R." Hmm...

Tomas HolmSTROM

I give Homer the next spot because I love him. Yeah, I say a lot of that on here, mostly sarcastically (do you really think I'd let Georges Laraque anywhere near my goods?!), but when I say I love Homer, I mean I love Homer, in the way that I imagine adoring a slightly older relative who is just really kickass, maybe the way Cody on Step by Step was adored by the denizens of the top two floors of the Duffy/Somers domain. (Dude-sy!)

This guy has had an incredible 41 games. He's the team leader in goals, and, despite the constant shuffling and reshuffling of line combinations, he's managed to maintain his role as official Boss of Net Disturbance (look it up). What makes this even more amazing--and I'm saying this with all the love in my heart that bubbles over whenever I do so much as even type his name--is that night after night, we watch him attempt to chase loose pucks and to outskate opponents, which just doesn't happen very often. We all know Homer is best when he's standing still, preferably in his "office", but an overall lack of chemistry and coherence due to iffy line combinations and a depleted lineup doesn't offer this as often as we'd like. Nevertheless, Homer works his ass off. During the last game, we were sitting at the bar watching the game, and I looked at Brian and said, "Homer is always straight up working his ass off." This isn't to suggest the guy hasn't had off nights--we remember several instances when all he had to do was tip the puck and bury it because his ass was on the receiving end of a mustache ride proffered by the opposing goaltender. But it doesn't matter. When you lead the team in goals and you continue to work hard, such transgressions are easily forgiven and (mostly) forgotten.

Resolution: To continue being such a badass at everything ever and to one day, be able to retire to his favorite new BFF, The Scrappy Octopi, who have generously offered him a per diem of $50, plus living expenses and a holiday stipend, to be our personal companion and guy-Friday. I'm looking forward to many years of him explaining to me how mean Swedish Santa Claus is.


(Kudos to beanie168 for the upload on YouTube.)

Pavel Datsyuk

I don't know how to feel about Pavs right now. I make it clear on here that he and Homer are my favorite players, so there's no way of getting around that, but he has had a sucky first half of the year. To put it into perspective, I have a dry erase board on which, prior to the beginning of the year, I had written a couple of pointless, mostly hyperbolic predictions ("Tomas Holmstrom will eat the souls of everyone who wrongs him between whistles and will urinate in their ashes!"), but one I thought actually achievable was Pavel notching 107 points this season, ten more than each of the individual, previous two seasons. Sigh. Those 107 points aren't going to score themselves, buddy.

On the other hand, it's hard to be overly critical of Datsyuk considering (A) the circumstances and (B) the fact that watching most games, he works hard, too. More often than not, he is attempting to make plays happen. The problem is they don't always...happen.

Resolution: To remind everyone why he was nominated for the Hart Trophy...oh, just a little more than six months ago. In other words: More shoot, Pasha. You still need more shoot.

Henrik Zetterberg

Prior to his Ohlund-inspired injury, Zetterberg, in true future-captain style, had made a role of doing that thing he always does during crucial, difficult times (think last year's playoffs): Taking on the role of offensive and defensive everything ever, basically attempting to be everywhere on the ice at all times, doing whatever necessary to keep the points on our side. He's simultaneously a playmaker and a strong defensive forward. And he does most of this quietly--of course, we all know how awesome Z is, but god knows he doesn't get the attention from the outside world that he deserves (or--sigh--that he may receive if he played for another team). Also worth remembering: Hank was the procurer of curly fries to the masses, something that hasn't been achieved again by anyone this season.

Resolution: To return to the ice in a blaze of glory so marvelous, we'll feel as if we have all been enveloped in one big, thick Hank sandwich. (Brian made me write that. He has such a huge man-crush. Do you think I really blame him?)

Todd Bertuzzi

It's difficult to write this without giggling. Who would have thought?

Resolution: You're in for a treat, heathens. I actually got a hand-written (with crayons...or, wait, I think he upgraded to pastels this time) note from Bert with his resolution. To wit:

To invest in a nice set of clippers, to make nice with the fans of Detroit once and for all by continuing to put his best face forward [giggle] on the ice, and to RSVP "affirmative" to this invite I got from one M. Petrella to a Brothers from Another Mother symposium this summer. Question: Is there swimming? Because you'll have to tell me if I can pack my mankini or if it's more of a strict bro-seph sitch where anything other than trunks is frowned upon.

Sounds like fun. Let us know how it goes, TPL?

Dan Cleary

Dan Cleary had frustrated the living fuck out of me prior to his injury (ugh, that we saw in person). This guy was white-hot during the playoffs last year, but came back with a fraction of the energy and grittiness we saw months ago. Most nights, he was invisible on the ice, especially as one of the veterans on the second power-play unit (Cleary-Bertuzzi-Leino) that made me want to reach for the nearest bottle of toxic substance and call the game right then and there.

Resolution: To drive the net more and to get the lead out while chasing pucks. You can't show us you have the ability to be practically superhuman in the spring and expect a free pass now, amigo.

Valtteri Filppula

The first of the long-term injured guys to return to the lineup, Fil made his presence known by notching an assist on countryman Ville Leino’s once-in-a-lifetime goal on New Year’s Eve. Prior to his injury, he had really gotten down to work, benefiting from more ice time due to the absence of Johan Franzen.

Resolution: Get back in the groove, V-Fil. (Sounds like an evil European villain, a la Simon Gruber, doesn’t it?)

Ville Leino

Oh, Ville, Ville, Ville. How you confound me, which is why I developed this pseudo-bonercrush to try to deal with my conflicted feelings toward you. (I mean...that's how you deal with confusion, right? You expel it via sexual congress? Right? Right?!) I want Ville to succeed, I really do; I'd rather the team be successful with him than me be right about him...while the team is still stuck with him. But really, how is it possible not to feel completely baffled by Leino? As we often note, he said last year it was Detroit or bust, then he got his chance in spades due to the lineup issues, and he has failed to succeed. Then, after getting benched by Babcock, he mumblefucked some nonsense about not being good at working hard on the fourth line. Jesus Christ, this guy has more identity issues than a country singer striving for an outlet via shitty alter ego.

(And another thing: Is anybody as troubled as I am by the fact that there is no good nickname to be derived from the name "Ville Leino"? I type Villster to be cute, but that secretly annoys me because if there's one thing I can't stand, it's nicknames that are longer than the actual formal name.)

Resolution: To stop toying with the hearts of the good people of Hockeytown and make a decision either to handle the responsibility he's been given accordingly or to release his Chris Gaines-esque studio album. Reach for the stars, Villster.

Darren Helm, Patrick Eaves, Drew Miller, and Justin Abdelkader

I group these cats together for obvious reasons: They're all young; it's their first regular season with the Wings (Helmer almost doesn't count, but whatever). And, most importantly, they are all achieving in a fantastic, albeit surprising, way. Truthfully, Helm's success is never a surprise, but who among us was really stoked at first about the signings of either Eaves or Miller?

How many times during the average game do you find yourself holding your breath and then releasing, thinking, thank god one or more of the above four names was on the ice to (A) score a goal or (B) make a major defensive play to prevent opposition scoring? Helm and Eaves were absolutely electric against the Coyotes on Saturday; they single-handedly prevented the Coyotes from capitalizing on power plays or sustaining momentum during particularly strong rushes. Abdelkader hasn't always been the most noticeable playmaker on the ice, but he continues to work hard, delivering hard hits, and his play has improved tenfold since his sloppy beginning this season. And Drew Miller, who came over from the Lightning on waivers? Yeah, the guy you never paid attention to beforehand, and maybe hadn't even heard of, but now can you honestly imagine our roster without him, considering the circumstances?

Resolution: To maintain the speed and energy that many of our players feed off of and to continue creating scoring chances and breaking up the momentum of our opponents. And yeah, I'd like to see these guys continue playing as if they know they'll all have a chance to stay in Detroit once the dust clears. Why? Because I like all four of them, and with the way they're playing, especially in light of certain other players sucking ass (ahem, Ville), who gives a fuck who it is who's showing up, as long as it works? It's like being forced to watch The Young and Restless on CBS when you're used to watching Days of Our Lives on NBC. Yeah, it's not exactly your cup of tea at first, but hey, it's still a soap opera, and it was once good enough for Eva Longoria-Parker to grace, and for Christ's sakes, at least it isn't one of those horrid show-your-hooha reality shows those youngsters are watching nowadays.

Kris Draper and Kirk Maltby

Likewise, I group these two together because they have a few more rings around the old tree and because they've both had unsurprisingly average first halves. Both began the season strong, and I think at one point, Maltby had the second- or third-most goals, but to be honest, I don't notice when they're on the ice anymore, unless I happen to see Draper flying around after someone (goddamn, he's still so fast) or Maltby telling someone to "fuck off" between whistles. I like both of them a lot. I guess that's all I really have to say.

Resolution: To put points on the board? I don't know. I read somewhere once that Malts is a big fan of Caribou Coffee. Maybe he'll take me for a Caramel Highrise sometime. Much love, #18.

Brian Rafalski, Brad Stuart, Niklas Kronwall, Jonathan Ericsson

Also known as..."Blueliners Not Named Nicklas Lidstrom Who Don't Suck." Creative, yes?

So, yeah, they don't suck. Stuart started off in a sluggish, sloppy manner for the first handful of games, but has since elevated his game to a pitch worthy of a true force of nature. He's hitting harder and moving faster and providing more offensive presence than any of his defensive counterparts. Rafalski's had kind of a weird season, vascillating between awesome offensive moves (passing 2/3 of the way up the ice and earning an assist) and creating un-Raf-like major defensive blunders, resulting in goals by the opposition. Kronwall was being Kronwall before his injury sidelined him; likewise with Ericsson, although it seemed that for every whistle blown, an angel lost his/her wings, and Big Rig earned 1.7 billion dumbass penalties.

Resolution: To play tighter games and to generate more offensive presence; this should be easier once Kronwall and Ericsson return to the lineup. Lidstrom, Rafalski, and Stuart have had their ice times lengthened considerably since their cohorts' respective depatures; their imminent returns should ease much of the pressure that's been placed on the non-injured defensemen.

Brett Lebda

Also known as..."Blueliner Who Sorta Kinda Sucks."

Brett's the Ville of the defensive squad. I just don't know what to think of him. He's still usually unimpressive. He still gets caught pinching (who is he, Mike Green?). But every now and then, he's come up big in crucial moments and actually...played defense. The mind reels.

Resolution: To...play defense, right? Isn't that his position?

Derek Meech and Doug Janik

Also known as..."Blueliners Who Almost Always Suck."

Before Saturday's game, I probably would have paired Meech with Lebda above, but I just can't handle him. I really can't. To be fair, he hasn't pissed me off nearly as many times as I initially imagined; however, he still sucks. He's the defensive Toby Flenderson to my Michael Scott (yep, Ville's still the offensive Toby, thanks for checking). Besides, didn't I already talk about Meech earlier? You can't possibly expect me to write more than one thing about him per decade. I guess this is it for the twenty-teens.

And Doug Janik? Not ready for primetime, but what, is he like 47 years old? Mr. Janik caused me to impulsively shout at the bar on Saturday (after his ridiculous turnover right in front of the net), "I'm going to kill you, Doug Janik!" at which point several groups of people turned to look at me, then they noticed I was watching hockey, and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief/understanding.

Resolution: Whatever. Return from whence you came.

Chris Osgood

Oh, Ozzie. We have a ridiculous soft spot for Ozzie, along the same lines of my adoration for Pasha and Homer. So many of us feel that way about him, no matter how infuriating he can be during the regular season. Andy over at Fight Night at the Joe observed in his first-half recap that Ozzie hasn't played as poorly of a regular season as he did last year; still, when the number of games he's played out of the last 20 can be counted on one hand, I'm not sure it makes me feel any better.

Resolution: To perfect his time machine prototype to set worldwide clocks forward to approximately April 15. Oh, and to totally razz Jimmah by replacing all the numbers on the speedometer on his helmet with "69". He fucking hates that.

Jimmy Howard

Jimmy has been absolute lightning as of late, making insane stops and even adding his first NHL shutout to his resume. Where would we be without Jimmy right now?

Resolution: To keep up the good work. And to punk that Osgood bastard by interrupting his Zen naps before games he starts with a foghorn blast to the ears. That'll show him.

Wings poach Coyotes, 3-2.

Aaaaaaaa-oooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww! (Best. Coyote. Impression. Ever.)

Everybody else has already written kickass recaps, and I'm a little rusty at doing this without a massive hangover or via phone after a game, so I'll give it the old college try here, but I'm going to keep it short and sweet:

What stood out for me about the game? Well, considering Brian and I missed the first period, and we showed up during first intermission to discover the score was 2-1, my initial impression was that I was happy the team had generated some early offense for the summary sheet. It's always better to get it done early rather than scramble to catch up in the third period, which--SIGH--our beloved Wings are so prone to doing these days.

Then, I learned that Kris Newbury scored the first goal, after only approximately five-and-a-half minutes. Thought about it. Considered dubbing it the best news I'd ever heard. Also considered dubbing it the worst. Settled on "best-SLASH-worst news". I think that adequately covers it, and any Wings' fan will concur.

Was very, very happy to see Patrick Eaves's shorthanded goal. This guy shows great promise; I like the way he has worked with his various linemates during this injury-riddled season. He hasn't lost his drive or talent by getting bogged down in a rut, unlike several of our veterans left standing.

Then, we watched the replay of Jonathan Ericsson's knee injury. This, combined with the news of Darren Helm's wrist injury earlier in the day, was too much. I'm not even going to expound upon this. I don't have the heart.

The most positive thing I take away from this game is as follows:

Our penalty kill has been rocking balls out lately. Yesterday, Mickey Redmond mentioned that the PK has been successful 30 of the last 31 times. In fact, the most recent power play goal scored by an opponent was Nashville's first goal of the game on Saturday. If we can remember wayyyyy back to last spring during the playoffs, when we were all scratching our heads and wondering how the PK could possibly be so shitty, this statistic should make us feel pretty damn good.

That's all I got for now. Most half-hearted attempt at a recap ever, I know. Will get back in the swing of things with GONADS-AND-THE-LIGHTNING on Thursday!

Also, for your viewing pleasure, here's a link to our Detroit Adventures photo album on Flickr. I don't claim to be a photographer by any stretch, but we did make a point to take photos of everything ever downtown so I can remember them when I'm senile (which is scheduled to occur in 30 days or so...the state will be paying Brian to take care of me. Er, I won't ruin the surprise. Just wait for it.). Anyway, if you're interested, click here.

Canadiens surrender; lose 3-2 in shoot out

Thank you to the Montreal Canadians for essentially handing us the game in the first period with SIX POWER PLAYS. That was completely insane; though the Wings certainly did their best to make the game more interesting. Tonights short recap:

1. Jimbaroo certainly played an adequate game in goal with only one borderline questionable goal. Well played sir.

2. Did anyone else out there have a sense of impending doom when that game went to overtime? Speaking of overtime/shootouts, wowie wow wow in regards to Mr. Zetterberg and Mr. Datsyuk.

3. Georges Laraque. Hmmmmm. How do I put this delicately.....I'm not going to say I hope you contract herpes. Actually, I DO hope you contract herpes. What an asshat. I think I speak for just about everyone when I say that didn't look like a short term injury, and I'm quite afraid to read the news tomorrow. I'm even more afraid of my hockey fandom life involving more Derek Meech. Someone hold me. There might have been retribution on Laraque if Brad May were still alive.

4. I'd certainly like to thank the Canadians for taking six penalties in the first. Much appreciated guys.

5. Nice win tonight. I'm glad the guys didn't this one slip away.

And since I have nothing left to say, I leave you with this "fight" from noted wuss Danny Briere. Does it not seriously look like they aren't fighting but rather hardcore making out?

Wings pluck Ducks, 7-4.

So, here's the scoring summary from last night's extravaganza:

1st period:
1. Dan Cleary (DET)
2. Brian Rafalski (DET)

2nd period
3. Corey Perry (ANA)

3rd period
4. Bobby Ryan (ANA)
5. Pavel Datsyuk (DET)
6. Joffrey Lupul (ANA)
7. Henrik Zetterberg (DET)
8. Ryan Getzlaf (ANA)
9. Henrik Zetterberg (DET)
10. Darren Helm (DET)
11. Henrik Zetterberg (DET)

The fact that the Ducks tied the game on three separate occasions just about killed me. I don't know why it surprised me because it's what these two teams do when they meet up. But still. It was one of those best-ever-kind of games because the Wings maintained pressure and persevered, and the rollercoaster ride was just a part of the journey of getting there.

It was kinda like going to the doctor because you're feeling sorta weird, and you're worried that you might be knocked up, so you do a pee test, and the doc comes back and says, "Good news! You're not pregnant!" And being the awesome person you are, you start doing the requisite ceremonial fist pumps and high-fiving the nursing staff, and then the doctor sheepishly says, "You do, however, have syphilis." Yiiiiikes.

Yeah, kinda like that. Only more awesome because Detroit won, and virtually VD-free, at that.

***

So, the big news is obviously that Henrik Zetterberg earned himself a hat trick last night, marking also the first Detroit hat trick of this still relatively new season. He owned this game. I mean, seriously. Bought the copyrights to it and everything.



In related news, Jonathan Ericsson is the proud owner of the second-worst thing I saw all night, passing the puck from behind the net to Ryan Getzlaf, who swiftly sent it to Corey Perry, who scored the Ducks' first goal. It was a great play...if you're a Ducks' fan.

One thing of absolutely no consequence (other than providing sunshine to my soul), how adorable is it to see Tomas Holmstrom laugh in the faces of Ducks' players who head straight for him between whistles? Yeah, I know, it's nothing new; Homer is a wanted man in every city (cue Styx's "Renegade"). But last night, the camera caught him at just the right time/angle, and he was straight up laughing in some person's face. God, I love this guy. After he retires, I'll pay him $5 a day to hang out with me every day.

I'm happy to see that the Ducks still have the same shiteous attitude problem. I especially enjoyed Erik Christensen smashing his stick on the ice after one of the Wings' early goals, as well as Getzlaf slinging his water bottle aside when he was sent to the sin bin for dry humping cross-checking Zetterberg toward the end of the first period. (I know Getzy is probably as mesmerized as we all are by the power of Hank's magical whiskers, but seriously, if you want to see if he'll caress your face with them, at least ask before attacking. Manners, anyone?)

But anyway, thanks, Anaheim, for still being that team that's so easy to hate. You make my job as an arrogant Detroit fan that much easier when I can bask in the smug superiority of rooting for a team that makes asshats like you lose your shit after being down only 2-0 at the end of the first period.

***

Oh, and if anyone's curious as to what the worst thing I saw all night was, did anyone else catch the end of the Pittsburgh/Boston game? We turned it on with approximately five minutes left in the third period. The Bruins had just tied the game with a power play goal at 4-4; then, the Bruins scored with 2:30 left in the third period to take the lead, 5-4. The Pens pulled Brent Johnson with over 1:30 to go. The two teams struggled to gain control of the puck, and for all but, oh, say, 2 seconds of the empty net situation, they were battling along the boards in Pittsburgh's end, right beside the empty net. Finally, the Pens break away with the puck and manage to put it in the net--with 0.4 left in the game. Four-tenths of a fucking second. Seriously.

But wait, that's still not the worst part. In overtime, Pittsburgh controlled the puck for most of the play. The puck sailed from center ice to Tim Thomas, who, for some reason, went behind the net to play the puck, but didn't clear it up the boards. The puck went right to Jordan Staal, who passed it to Pascal Dupuis, who sent it right into what was essentially an unguarded net. Pens win in OT. And Bruins fans everywhere fall on the sword. Horrible.

Holy shit, the quacks are coming to town.

I fucking hate the Anaheim Ducks. They'll always be behind (1a) the Chicago Blackhawks and (1b) the Pittsburgh Penguins, but in no way should they feel left out of the fray. They suck at life.









My dickweed ex-boyfriend sent me a Myspace message last year during the playoffs saying there was "no way the Wings would beat Chris Pronger the Donger" and company. Really, I have no idea what that means other than a reaffirmation of my belief that only assplugs root for this team. And rhyme a person's last name with a vernacular term for genitalia, unless the intent is to be disparaging, although that obviously wasn't the case in this example, as I'm sure said dickweed in question had a mouthful of little Prongers when he typed it. Story checks out, in any event.


Ryan Getzlaf: "Frat" Douche.


Scott Niedermayer: "Father Time/The Dad from Family Ties" Douche.


Todd Marchant: "No Eyebrows" Douche.


James Wisniewski: "Mark McGrath Called, He Wants His Circa-1997 Hairstyle Back, Ass" Douche. (P.S. I hope Homer makes you cry again.)


Mike Brown: "Oops, Sorry About That Roofie-Tini" Douche.


Ryan Carter: "I'm Really Happy Mike Brown Gave Me His Recipe for Roofie-Tinis" Douche.

The only good thing about the Anaheim Ducks is this fan:



You know how I feel about dancing fans.

Go Wings.

Wings harpoon Canucks, 3-1.

If your mascot is named Finn the Whale, you deserve the verb "harpoon".

Somehow, the Wings managed this win, despite getting completely outshot and outworked for much of the game. Jimmy Howard played extremely well for the second night in a row (although he had much more work to do in last night's game than in Columbus); he even earned himself his first career assist on Niklas Kronwall's empty-netter. I wish I could find a video of Henrik Zetterberg's GWG; it was one of my favorite goals thus far this season.

Tomas Holmstrom scored the first goal of the game. He's still leading the team in season goals. My heart is smiling.

Tomorrow night, the Wings take on the Anaheim Ducks for the first time this season. This is the third team in my top tier of hatred. Expect something fun tomorrow pre-game.

***

So, now I want to take a minute to get all sentimental with you guys. I've been doing this blogging thing for almost two months now. I started it as a way to stop irritating non-hockey fans in my life with my endless blather for 3/4 of the year (and if you're interested in the whole long story of my hockey fandom, you can read it here). Still, I wasn't sure anyone would actually want to read the sometimes inane, often irreverent, almost always inappropriate prattling that I put out there. Ever since my bestest showed me how to check the stats on Google Reader to see how many subscribers a particular blog has, I've been neurotically checking it to see if people are ready my stuff. And you are! This little, scrappy blog, created by a person who's not from Michigan but still loves the Red Wings more than life itself, has real, actual readers. (Or maybe just cyborgs who enjoy reading this nonsense. But whatever. Onward and upward.) So, thanks, people. It hits me right here.

Now, Jesus H. Christ. Because this site is not called the SAPPY Octopus, and in celebration of this impromptu Reader Appreciation Day, how about some free sketchy punch, hookers, and BJs*? Really. It's on The Scrappy Octopus's tab.

Oh, and for the ladies--I wouldn't dream of leaving you out of this one. Levi Johnston's Playgirl shoot reportedly involves a hockey stick. More details as they emerge, and, of course, complimentary copies of the issue for everyone once it's published. What? That doesn't do it for you? OK. Well, we've still got this guy. You're welcome.

*As in Columbus Blue Jackets. They want to hang out. Wait, what? You thought I meant...? GASP. I'm appalled at you people, really. Sickos.

Basking in the afterglow; Canucks @ the Joe tonight.

Yep. Still happy. Still gloating. Still feeling fantastic. We're entitled to that, you know, after the rollercoaster that has been the opening six weeks of the 2009-10 season. Who would have thought that the end of the game would have left me with the same three words as the Toronto game, only with opposite emotion: Fuck. Me. Sideways.

I shall rate my happiness thusly: Happier than a pig in shit. Happier than a fat kid spying cake (simile courtesy of 50 Cent. I know, I know. Most horrible.). Happier than Ken Hitchcock at an all-you-can-eat KFC/Taco Bell/Entenmann's buffet. (Oh, shit. Where are my manners? Happy 1,000th game, by the way. Shithead.)

So, the afterglow doesn't last for long, particularly not today, as the Canucks venture into the Joe for the teams' second meeting this season. Kyle at Babcock's Death Stare made an excellent point in his recap of last night's game in saying that the down side to the Wings' huge victory last night is that they no longer have any excuses; they proved that depth, talent and drive are still present on the Wings' squad, so now they have to live up to the success we all know they're capable of achieving.

I'm going to let you guys in on a little secret: I'm sort of a spy. I mean, I enjoy espionage, particularly when it comes to rival teams. So, I totally got my hands on some top-secret footage of the Canucks' secret weapon on the ice. With Vancouver being so injury-plagued this season, they have a little something they may unleash on the ice against us tonight. Behold:



Yep. That just happened. My apologies for the egregious misspellings, but who can resist the funny that's inherently present in a retarded-looking, clothed whale skating around haphazardly with a T-shirt gun? Not this girl.

Also, if you want to be on the lookout for Fin, you should probably keep tabs on Mason Raymond's vehicle, as I heard through the grapevine that they like to travel together:



It's a great day when I get to make yet another Mason Raymond/hillbilly joke.

Wings pass on the BJs.

What? At least I didn't incorporate the verb "swallowed". Just know that I thought about it.

Wings win in Columbus, 9-1.

Not a typo.

NINE to one.

Seven players on the Wings' squad accounted for the nine goals, including two apiece for Niklas Kronwall and Justin Abdelkader. The first six Wings' goals were scored by players earning their third goal each of the season. So this must be what it's like, watching teams play in the Matrix.

Dan Cleary, Pavel Datsyuk, Kris Draper, and Niklas Kronwall each scored in the first half of the first period, raising the score 4-0 before the first intermission.

Todd Bertuzzi and Ville Leino scored in the second period, and Niklas Kronwall's second goal and both of Justin Abdelkader's came in the third.

Keeping track of the awesomeness?

--Myriad goals, spread out throughout the entire 60 minutes of play, rather than a flurry of goals early or a weak sauce attempt to catch up at the end? Check.

--Consistent play by top players? Check. Few glaring defensive breakdowns, and fabulous play by Datsyuk and Zetterberg, especially.

--Did the Wings' depth show tonight? Check. Is the sky blue? Leino looked better than he has since before he was benched; his razzle-dazzle before shooting the puck upstairs is reminiscent of the best plays we've seen him achieve in the past. Bertuzzi sent one to the back of the net. Cleary continued his scoring success. Kronwall proved his offensive prowess with being one shy of a hat trick tonight.

--Did the Wings keep it together? Yes. Again, consistent scoring throughout all three periods and no excessive or stupid penalties. Not counting Brad May's fighting major, none of the Wings made it to the sin bin until the end of the second period.

--How about special teams? The Wings managed two penalty kills successfully, with no power play goals against. Conversely, the Wings' power play accomplished two goals (both by Kronwall).

Sweet.

The Captain and the Hall of Fame

Tonight, Steve Yzerman will be inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame (or, more informally, we will collectively "celebrate the Stevie", in the immortal words of one Pavel Datsyuk). The longest-serving captain in all of North American sports will be recognized among the finest in the history of the hockey world.

The broadcast begins at 7 p.m. on the NHL Network.

Simply the best:

Wings sink Sharks in shootout, 2-1.

I've been blogging for a little over a month now, and one of the most fun parts of these recaps is to devise a new subject/verb combo to describe what happened. "Sinking" Sharks just makes me happy. And yes, I am a hopeless nerd.

***

So, holy shit, how awesome was it that Pavel Datsyuk and Henrik Zetterberg suddenly remembered how to deke during a shootout?! I've said on this blog that I love shootouts, as long as they don't involve the Wings. The Twins' work, combined with Ozzie's prowess in goal, could make me reconsider.

Speaking of Zetterberg, how about that super-sneaky move to slide the puck in, tying the game during regulation? Nice work, Z.

Darren Helm also stood out for me, having two huge breakaways. I'm 99% sure this kid could give Usain Bolt a run for his money (no pun intended).

***

And now, on to some more happy news. I know my loyal readers, being the conscientious people you are, have been losing sleep over this one for the past week or so. Rest assured, kiddies. Nobody's going to jail:

Police in Idaho's capital won't pursue charges against a junior hockey team whose members held a strip shootout at a city-owned rink two weeks ago.

Boise Police spokeswoman Lynn Hightower told the Idaho Statesman that officers concluded a 17-year-old member of the Idaho Junior Steelheads who mooned a teammate didn't intentionally violate the city's decency laws.

The Idaho Junior Steelheads had already been forbidden from using Idaho Ice World for four days, and the player who dropped his drawers briefly also served a 3-game suspension.

Huge collective sigh of relief: Breathe in, breathe out.

On the other hand: What the fuck is going on in Boise? Sure, these kids are off the hook, but let me tell you, mooning your pals is just the first step on a very slippery slope to a life of dereliction and debauchery. Just go talk to your math teacher, Kyle Dennis, the one who got caught getting slaphappy with his dong in Costco--in BOISE. Exposing himself to his classmates was just a gateway act in the long line of lasciviousness. Sigh.

***

And now, because it's Friday, and the sun is shining, and because the Avs can go suck a big one, I present you the following, courtesy of James Mirtle's From the Rink:

There was not a single person in sections 330 and 334 a few minutes into the game tonight. Not one. I think a couple souls showed up a while later and sat there, but that was…it.

You definitely did not dissuade critics who say Denver is just a bandwagon hockey town tonight, folks. The announced attendance was definitely not the actual number in the building either. I’d say the real number was about 8,500, maybe a bit less actually.

— Adrian Dater, All Things Avs

And to that, I say:



Yeah. That's what I'm talking about. Fuckers.

Wings extinguish Flames; off-day suck-o-tash

The Wings doused the Flames last night in Calgary, with a final score of 3-1.

The Scrappy Octopi are split on our feelings during the game itself; Brian felt exuberantly confident that the Wings would win and at no point during the game did he question what the final outcome would be, while I, adopting a horrible veil of pessimism, remained nervous until Kirk Maltby rang a beautiful empty-netter between the pipes during the final minute of play.

Either way, how great did it feel that the Wings ended this horrendous, odd, complicated road trip on a positive note? Let's hope the momentum follows them back to the Motor City for their next game on home ice against Boston on Tuesday.

The atmosphere during most of the game was eerily tranquil, a stark contrast from the utter chaos of the Vancouver and Edmonton games. This proved to be a good thing for the Wings--the team only took two minor penalties, and the Flames' sole goal did not occur during either of their two power plays, allowing the Wings' PK to escape us fans' wrath for another day.

Henrik Zetterberg skated more fluidly and consistently than at any other point during this young season. Chris Osgood's break seemed to do him some good; however, he didn't face the most daunting of shots from the Flames, in terms of both quantity or quality (the Flames' total shots on goal = 21).

Also worth noting is Brad Stuart, who I felt also had his best game of the season thus far. He scored his first goal of the season and managed to keep himself in position when it counted, checking hard against Calgary, due to, I suppose, him finally removing his head from his sphincter before taking the ice. Good for him. If he keeps this up, he'll find himself permanently off my shit list.

Darren Helm had a HUGE breakaway in the second period due to his lightning-fast speed, reminiscent of his performance during last year's playoffs, and although he couldn't make the shot due to Jay Bouwmeester's interference slashing, it's great to see this guy do what he does best. More, please.

My main criticism of the Wings' performance last night is the power play showed signs of shittiness, a la last year, which is too bad, considering the signs of improvement it has shown of late. The Wings looked disorganized during much of the four power play chances they had last night. It's hard to understand how the Wings' power play can be so wildly inconsistent from game to game.

***

On a miscellaneous note, I hope everybody had a happy Halloween; I actually meant to post that on Halloween, but alas, the Scrappy Octopus was charged with ensuring that her six-year-old nephew Megatron had a fantabulous night. The collective Scrappy Octopi participated sparsely in Halloween festivities: I donned my standard cat ears and whiskers for like the millionth year in a row (me = abjectly, miserably, fucking lazy when it comes to Halloween), while Brian, far surpassing me in awesomeness, adorned himself in his Winter Classic jersey. Touche.

***

Now on to the above-referenced suck-o-tash: George Malik had this, and you may want to take a deep breath and/or a handful of quaaludes before proceeding. In said story, everybody's favorite hemorrhoid, Mike Milbury, claims the following (hit of ether, please):

October 30, CBC Sports: Please don't wax poetic about Hull and Howe and Shore. Today's players are bigger, stronger, faster, better conditioned, better coached and with better equipment. The players of the 50s couldn't keep up. And there’s so many of them that you don't need to consult the standings to name a bunch of them. Kopitar in LA. Bobby Ryan in Anaheim. Duchene and O'Reilly in Colorado. Toews and Kane in Chicago. Stamkos in Tampa. Kovalchuk in Atlanta. Gaborik in New York. Parise in New Jersey. Crosby and Malkin and Fleury in Pittsburgh. And on and on.

But it is in Washington where the new generation’s poster boy resides. Hey, Alex Semin, Nick Backstrom and Mike Green are all stars in their own right, but the lightning rod is Alex Ovechkin.

The attraction? He is the next Mr. Hockey, the newly-defined Mr. Hockey. The computerized, twittered, facebooked, instantly gratified and accessible Mr. Hockey.

That just happened.

Look, I would be remiss--and totally full of shit--to try to downplay the kind of superstar that Alexander Ovechkin already is, not to mention the capacity of his star power to grow as his accomplishments continue to increase.

But I hate, hate, HATE this need that our culture feels to try to (A) hastingly proclaim the next big thing, the next prodigy, the next legend, combined with (B) the uber-annoying effort to rewrite history in a lameass attempt to substantiate the predictions and proclamations we've prematurely projected in an attempt to convey our genius in being the first to spot the next legend of our time.

Ovie has accomplished much in his young career, to be sure. He puts forth tremendous, sometimes seemingly un-human effort, game after game, and his ice work is beautiful and awe-inspiring. His capacity is the kind of once-in-a-lifetime talent that forces hockey fans of all teams to pause and take notice because we all love the game, and above all else, Ovie exudes unfettered passion on the ice, reminding us of why we fell in love with hockey in the first place.

Conversely...

...when a full-tilt dumbass like Mike Milbury thinks he can anoint Gordie Howe's long-deserved and long-acknowledged title onto the world's current superstar, two simple thoughts immediately enter my mind: (A) Who in the fuck does he think he is? and (B) Kiss my ass.

Mr. Howe lives and breathes hockey. Not only is his professional career the longest-spanning of any other hockey player in the history of the League, his work off the ice, along with his late wife, has helped so many young people explore their dreams.

I understand that Mr. Milbury, despite being middle-aged, may not have the appreciation for Mr. Howe that we die-hard Wings' fans have. I, for one, am 23 years old, so I never had the opportunity to watch Howe play during his prime.

But just because something is in the supposedly far-away past does not negate its importance or its significance. Mr. Howe was also a once-in-a-lifetime player, stacking up records that no one even dreamed could be touched until the arrival of Wayne Gretzky.

Perhaps equally as important as his athletic accomplishments is his very un-celebrity demeanor. Howe is classy. He is unassuming. He exemplifies quiet grace. Countless times, I have watched documentaries on the NHL Network about Gretzky, which, ultimately, show Gretzky surpassing Howe's record for career goals, and Mr. Howe graciously appearing with him at a press conference and praising Gretzky's accomplishments while understating his own.

The Red Wings organization's aura of unpretentious, quiet accomplishment begins and ends with Gordie Howe; the ego-free stars who have emerged in the time since Howe's departure have all followed in his footsteps, maintaining unassuming dignity despite the Wings' dynastic run over much of the past two decades.

I suppose it's because the stock footage of Howe's talent exists solely on black-and-white reels that Mike Milbury doesn't understand why the generations since Howe's heyday haven't snatched the title of Mr. Hockey away from him and capriciously offered it to any handful of newcomers who have shown extraordinary promise.

Because we know better. And anybody with more than two functioning braincells knows better.

Those of us who understand this can add this latest goodie from Mike Milbury into the fat stack of ridiculousness that comprises the Milbury experience, including, but not limited to, being too much of a dolt to manage Charlie Wang's faltering Long Island enterprise, being best known during his playing career for assaulting a fan with the fan's own footwear, and making my ears bleed with his mindless blather each and every time I'm forced to watch a hockey broadcast on NBC.

Mr. Howe will always be Mr. Hockey. End. Of. Story. Perhaps it would do Milbury some good to lay off the peyote before coming to work.

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.