Whoa, was there a game yesterday?

Because to me, it looked like stone cold, country bullshit.

When will the NHL get this right? In this season, we've seen a puck enter the net--and get stuck there--only to get disallowed due to a Dennis LaRue's early whistle (Brad May). We've witnessed other close calls due to premature ejaculations of the whistle. We're still reeling after Marian Hossa's goal was waived off due to an early whistle in last year's Semifinals against the Ducks, which eventually went the full seven games.

Not to mention the other teams it's happened to across the League: Just the other night, I tuned in to the Ducks @ Kings game, and never in a million years would I have thought a no-goal call on the ice, by a referee standing in perfect position to see the back of the crease and the puck, would have gotten overturned after review. The NHL's explanation for it?

A lengthy review determined his shot slipped underneath Jean-Sebastien Giguere, reversing referee Don Van Massenhoven's apparent call and agreeing with a linesman's determination.

Can I have some of what they're smoking in Toronto? Usually, my drugs just numb the pain of everyday existence, but this shit has to be a full out-of-body experience.

But never, in a trillion years, did I expect to see something like what happened yesterday, considering (A) the referee was staring at the goal line, (B) there was a camera angle showing the puck not fully crossing the goal line, and (C) overturning the no-call on the ice resulted in a shootout win for the Dallas Stars.

I don't know what the solution to this is. There's no way we can threaten to stop watching hockey. We're at the mercy of this bullshit for as long as it continues. Maybe Toronto should be forced to share immediately whatever footage they use to determine their decisions. It is, after all, stated that they need indisputable video evidence to reverse the ref's call. Maybe they can also go to hell. So can anybody who mocks us for being tin-foily at times. What does the League expect?

Oh, and for fuck's sake, did it really have to be Steve Ott scoring the game-winning goal?

Blackhawks @ Wings today at 12:30 p.m. on NBC. That's right, boys and girls. You get to nurse your hangover listening to the bile spewing forth from Mike Milbury's lips. Might as well vomit now and get it over with.

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?

Did that first period really just happen?

Did the Flames just score 30 seconds into the game, while Zetterberg, Leino, Lidstrom, and Rafalski were all just standing by, leaving half the net unguarded and essentially screening Ozzie from viewing the play?

Did Homer really just get a penalty for "retaliating" against bullshit from Giordano? The entire audience at Joe Louis Arena saw what happened, as evidenced from the booing. The Scrappy Octopi certainly saw what happened, as evidenced by the fact that we both screamed obscenties and/or barfed blood.

Did Brad Stuart's power play goal really just get disallowed because Dan Cleary was "preventing the goaltender from moving inside the crease" because the fucking heel of his left skate was inside the crease? The fucking left heel?! Did that really just fucking happen? I mean, I'm pretty sure that the laws of physics aren't suspended to the point at which Kiprusoff cannot move to his left if Cleary is standing directly in front of him. I feel like I'm huffing fucking paint here. Since when are we calling this rule into practice for screening in front of the goaltender? I'm at a fucking loss.

Did the referee, standing directly behind the fucking net, really not just call a penatly on Kiprusoff for slashing the back of Homer's calf, causing him to fall down? Again, the entire chorus of spectators saw this go down. We saw it go down on TV. What is happening?!

Did Pavel Datsyuk just inadvertedly redirect the puck into our own net?

Is Todd Bertuzzi trying to set a record for how many times one can go offsides during one period of play? Thanks a mil for breaking up that great rush midway through the first, Bert.

I will give 15 years off my life for the following to happen:

1. The Wings have to get back in this game. They simply have to. This is insanity. They had some decent chances during the power plays, but what happened during the first is just some crazy bullshit. They cannot let this prevent them from coming out swinging in the 2nd.

2. Sometime very soon, can Babcock please break up the abysmal 2nd power play unit of Cleary/Leino/Bertuzzi?! How is this a good idea? Dan Cleary, I get it. He's gritty, and he's the replacement Homer for screening. But Todd Bertuzzi and Ville Leino out there with him at the same time? Leino has the speed of an Amazonian three-toed sloth, and Bert just does absolutely nothing on the power play; the most he's ever going to do is be the 3rd best person on the team for doing what Homer does and Cleary kinda does, which is be the boss at disturbance in the crease. Leino and Bert have no business being on the ice together; the only time this should be allowed is if the Wings win a grueling game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. Then they can come out and celebrate together. I'll be ok with that. I'm not even comfortable with them coming out on the ice at the same time to congratulate the goalie after an ordinary win. It's just too much of a recipe for disaster. This unit needs speed and playmakers. Put another one of the youngsters out there and sit Leino and Bert. Jesus Christ, replace everyone with Helm/Draper/anybody young not named Ville Leino. Just give someone else another chance. I'm sick of seeing these three fumblefuck around out there on the power play; every time Datsyuk and Zetterberg vacate the ice, I give up all hope that something's going to get done, unless it comes from the blueline. Speaking of the blueline, why in the fuck is Derek Meech on the 2nd unit?!

Anybody game for taking some double shots?

Stars shoot down Wings 3-1

The Scrappy Octopus is feeling under the weather tonight so her not so better half will be taking the reigns for tonight’s game recap. I promise to try to keep the dick jokes, swearing, toilet humor, and general inappropriateness at a high enough level that maybe you won‘t notice a difference. A guy can dream. What a game to recap…

Oh, there will be one thing on Wings fans minds tonight I’m sure, but lets talk about the game itself before we get to officiating. In order:

1. This game was sort of a huge turd all around wasn’t it? The Wings were outplayed tonight. Both goalies faced 32 shots tonight, however, Alex Auld wasn’t really challenged that much. It kind of felt like Dallas dominated play for the most part and had more scoring chances. Which leads me to…

2. JIMMY! Great game by Jimmy in the loss. Lots of key saves to keep the Wings in the game during the times where the team looked relatively uninterested (which is to say the majority of the game). The Wings had a chance to win tonight thanks to Jimmy.

3. Henrik Zetterberg - what can you say? He played a great game. The Wings future captain was once again the best player on the ice. No one can touch this cat right now. Conversely…

4. Pavel Datsyuk looked like he couldn’t have given less of a shit throughout the first two and a half periods of this game. 16:27 in ice time tonight and I couldn’t tell you one fucking thing he did tonight aside from fair well in the face-off circle. That’s certainly SOMETHING, but it doesn’t really seem like enough does it?

5. Jonathan Ericsson can eat a dick.

6. Seriously, is it legally possible to file a restraining order to keep that dick hole 100 yards from frozen surfaces until he figures it out? I speak harshly, but I don’t actually hate him. I just don’t have to like him right now.

And now on to officiating….

I’m notoriously absent minded, so perhaps I’m forgetting a game somewhere, but that was one of the worst overall officiated games I can remember seeing. I can’t say that for the most part it wasn’t officiated evenly, because it was. The hooking call on Rafalski was borderline ridiculous; May’s “slash” on Auld WAS ridiculous. Daley’s goaltender interference, Auld’s delay of game, Homer’s hooking….all absurd. Drunk Mickey Redmond referred to the officiating this evening as “a circus”, and for once that drunken bastard said something lucid. For all of the bad officiating I cannot seem to wrap my mind around May’s no-goal. In the playoffs last year we ALL remember Brad Watson’s intended whistle. You can argue all you like about “intended whistles” and such (and I will in a second), but the rule, as written, was interpreted correctly then. Ok. Gotcha. Tonight though? What is happening there? I’m trying to picture how the conversation went while analyzing this and every time I do it makes brain goo seep out of my ears. Why? Because my brain literally melts when I try to imagine things that fucking stupid. If I, on my 15 inch (size approximated, but its small), can plainly see that the GOD DAMN PUCK IS SITTING IN THE FUCKING NET, maybe it oughta be a goal.

Ok, I grant you that there is a rule regarding intended whistles (which is stupid on its face, being that we are in the day in age with TV’s and VIDEO and SOUND that can be rewound and what not. Fancy!). I once again refer to drunk Mickey when he said the save was never made! The puck went straight into the net after it was shot, barely glancing off the goaltenders pad. So, unless you INTENDED to blow the whistle before he shot the puck, that’s a goal and that call was ridiculous.

Enough about officiating. It would’ve been interesting to see the rest of the game play out. Again, we got outplayed, so its not like we deserved to win the game; and the call disallowed the tying goal, not a go-ahead goal. You could argue that if we’re tied the defense doesn’t pinch up as much, which doesn’t leave the Big Rig stranded to take a dumb penalty, which eliminates the power play……

What if’s. I guess it could’ve been summed up with one word:

Whatever. We got outplayed and lost the game. Tomorrow the Scrappy Octopus returns to its regularly scheduled (and higher quality) programming. Appreciate you folks stopping by.