H2H: 2 Legit 2 Quit

How many ways can one summarize the weekend at large? Awesome, excellent, fantabulous, gnarly, amazeballs, bombass, #FUCKYEAH.

The Scrappy Octopi are back in wild, wonderful West Virginia, where it's warm enough to wear the dress I had foolishly packed to Detroit (with rainboots, no less--if you didn't get a chance to realize how cool I am over the weekend, now you know), and we are missing the living hell out of Michigan and all you fabulous people.

Our thoughts on the weekend as a whole:

--Seeing Herm get to experience all of the fabulous things the H2H crew had planned for him was an indescribably fantastic experience. I can't imagine the high you're feeling, Herm. We didn't get to meet him until the pregame party on Friday, but we did get a glimpse of him while we were entering Old Shillelagh late on Thursday night. He was leaving, and we didn't quite realize it was him until we stopped the The Triple Deke boys, whom we vaguely recognized from all the internet stalkings we perform on the daily. Anyway, seeing Herm that first time, in passing, was that feeling I always imagined myself having as a 12-year-old standing on a rope line to meet A.J. from the Backstreet Boys. Fucking awesome, man. (Alternately, it could be how Brian would feel at any given point in time upon meeting Gerard Butler. Yuuuuum!)

--The H2H "War Room" deserves all the accolades they've been receiving all over the place, and then some: Jen, Hollis, Serven, Petrella, and Ellen all worked their asses off to ensure that Herm--and all of us--had the time of our lives and to get those moneys for the Children's DMC. Many thanks all around to everybody instrumental in the nuts (giggle) and bolts of the H2H operation.

--Everything you've ever read about Dena and I being soulmates? Absolutely, positively true. Times a bajillion. The reason Kronner scored the game-winning shootout goal on Saturday? He felt the power of her Swedish flag underwear burning through the airwaves. For the record, we were never even properly introduced; Petrella simply brought her over to where I was at the H2H pregame and she did the universal signal for Hey-You-Soulmate-Person, and I instantly fell in love.

--Sara/saraneuie and Amanda/Nurse Nitz are two of the most kickass fans--and kickass people--ever. TSO feels complete after seeing the ladies' "More Shoot" and "Dangle Dangle" homemade T-shirts in person. For the record, Sara's birthday was yesterday, so if anybody missed out on it, you can hop over to her site and send her lots of good wishes, preferably in the form of one Johan Franzen being UPS-ed to her residence. I'm sure she'll give you the shipping details if you hit her up.

--Petrella wearing the SHIRTUZZI was everything I could have hoped for and more. Also, it's worth noting that the moment I met Rob (who, judging by his recent travels, either hasn't been to his home in 74 years or is an actual hobo) and his brother John was the moment TSO was presented with our fabulous TPL-autographed photo of Casey's She-Tuzzi creation. Time. Stood. Still. TSO's only regret is that we didn't get to hang out with the Discher boys more, but alas, they were off to their next destination before we knew it, like elusive butterflies who managed to slip out of our nets. (TSO is currently embroiled in a dispute with one half of TPL for the right to dib the other half of TPL. We'll let you know how this settles on the flip side.)

--Brian and I are proud to be card-carrying members of the I Heart TPL Mom Club. (TPL Mom, we'll be sending you those adoption papers later in the week to sign and have notarized. Yeah, it'll make Brian and me some sort of weird quasi-relation, but we'll work out those kinks later.)

--As a Wahoo, I never knew I could muster up enough emotion and chutzpah to say I heart a Hokie until I met Casey and his equally awesome roommate Shawn. I'm telling you, this is how international relations should work. Can you imagine? Oh, there's a new round of Irish car bombs going off in Belfast? Fuck, put them in a room with some hockey and Boddington's and let them bond. Works every time.

--Tyler and Brent from the TTD are every bit as hilarious in person as their site and videos have you suggest. I was a tad bit disappointed that they didn't sport the awesome sweaters/turtlenecks they wore in their clips, but that's neither here nor there. It was excellent hanging out with the two of them at the Town Pump; thanks for letting me terrorize your table intermittently throughout the night.

--Speaking of terrorizing, when we finally moved to our real seats at the Joe, we found ourselves seated next to Chris of NOHS fame, and we're fairly certain Brian pushed the boundaries of legal harassment of Chris regarding goaltending as it relates to Josh Harding. We met (Animal) Drew after the game, too, and we can confirm that these guys are the real deal: nice as hell and completely gracious when dealing with their rabid fans' enthusiasm.

--We had the pleasure of hanging out with Kris for both games and the aftermath, and we had a blast--Kris and her friend Gaby sat on the other side of us when we committed to our actual seats. In fact, I'm not sure if you all know this or not, but Kris is actually a ninja--I discovered her stealth-ful abilities first-hand this weekend. I'm pretty sure this translates into her being able to slip into the locker room undetected. I'm just saying...

--MauvaisGardien and silvrbuttrfly, awesome ladies who I'm pleased to have gotten to know better during Friday's festivities, especially since it meant downing a shot that made me feel minty clean afterwards! (No, but seriously, you CAN'T drive back to Toledo, now, right?)

--Speaking of shots, downing a shot of Jameson with jennyquarx was everything I could have hoped for and more.

--Voox wins the award for snazziest hat at H2H, hands down.

--There were some folks we got to meet whom we didn't get to spend quite as much time with, but the pleasure was all ours nonetheless: Jessie of Bingo Bango, Greg/captnorris5 of The Winged Wheel, Twitter buddy Norm (who loooves traversing the Ohio Turnpike just as much as we do!), Sara (who we discovered has impeccable taste in dresses), members of the 19 Andrew from Ann Arbor (whose Datsyuk-autographed stick we plotted to steal, to no avail), Lo, jennemyofthesk8, and Baroque97, among so many others.

It was truly a blast. Petrella said it best in his recap over at TPL that "H2H2" has a high bar to cross for besting this past weekend. Let TSO join the chorus of voices out there who have already expressed the sheer joy associated with finding yourself surrounded by people who "get it": the sheer obsession we have with this hockey team we all love more than life itself. Fans of other teams? Eat your fucking hearts out. Red Wings Nation rocks, balls out.

And now, we'll simply look forward to that playoff party in the D, already being pimped by Serven & Company on the Twitterverse.

Thanks to everybody for the best weekend in the history of weekends. Period.

Hockeytown in 24.

Much has been said about H2H on this blog, but little sums up the awesomeness we're feeling knowing that in T minus 24 hours, we'll be on the road and Detroit-bound for the greatest experience a fan can have. This is our last full day on the job before embarking on our 8-hour trek, and to be honest, our mental capacities are about as useful as a limp dick on prom night. Let's just say we're looking forward to the following:

--meeting Herm, who just Tweeted that he's leaving for the airport soon, which means that Herm to Hockeytown is that much closer to becoming Herm in Hockeytown

--hanging out with the most amazing bloggers, commenters, and Tweeps ever

--going to our fourth game at the Joe under such awesomely fun circumstances

--basking in the awesomeness that will come with Petrella sporting the T-shirt of his dreams, commemorating the special bond he has with #44. (A special shoutout to Hollis for enlisting us in this particular bit of debauchery.)

--hanging out with Sara and Nurse Nitz, the fabulous ladies who make the most awesome English/Swedegian T-shirts and collages ever for the Mule, Pasha, and pretty much everyone else.

--playing this song at volume 11 and running, arms outstretched, to my presumed soulmate, Dena. Later, I suspect we'll later be watching Dena get kindly escorted into the back of a cop car for offering--a little too literally--to be Kronner's jockstrap. (Dena, because you're not on Facebook, which means we can't stalk one another, I'll be the girl in the Homer jersey over by the bar, putting out the vibe.)

--pouring one out for our bud Krononymous when we pass by Cleveland on the interstate. (No, really, this WILL happen.)

--exchanging all kinds of U.Va./Tech jokes with Casey, our favorite Hokie

--goading Brian into performing one of his awesome dance numbers, including, but not limited to, pseudo-cartwheels, lethargic gun-waving motions, riverdancing, the mamushka, the robot, the worm...anything goes at H2H. (Seriously, I'll probably need some help convincing him to do this, so I highly expect all persons reading this to help me coax and goad.)

--TIMBITS!

--waking up with the best, most well-earned hangover ever on Saturday morning afternoon.

TSO wants to extend its appreciation to all the people who worked their asses off to make this possible. And by "appreciation," we not only mean "thank you," but also, you have a virtual coupon for one grinding lapdance from Brian, to be redeemed at a time and place of your choosing.

Happy H2H, everyone!

Jimmy's facial to Sid? Icing on a sweet cake.

Would everyone out there agree that this was the single best game the Wings have played this season? I know the snap judgment in society dictates that everything that just happened is the biggest, best thing of all time, but tonight's game was a total and complete effort. 60 minutes of badass, we're the Detroit Red Wings and we're going to dick punch you until we're bored, and then we're going to give you the old Cleveland Steamer for shits and giggles (you may be asking "Who would provide the steamer?" I'm glad you asked. Brett Lebda. You can just tell by looking at him. Doesn't make him a bad person, just different).

My thoughts on tonight's game:

1. Nice game by, oh, everyone. I literally have nothing to complain about. Even in victories I can usually find something to nitpick. Not tonight.

2. Jimmy should've had the shutout. Damned weirdass bounce in front. Oh well. He'll have to settle for a win against the asshat Penguins. Good consolation prize.

3. I know he didn't have two goals tonight, but Datsyuk was just amazing on the ice tonight. During one of the power plays, he was kind of a one-man power play out there with chance after chance. He created, he took control of the game, and onwed that shit tonight. Good on him.

4. Derek Meech had a good game in limited ice time. Did you read that correctly Pens? DEREK MEECH looked serviceable against you tonight. As a forward. The position he does NOT play on the regular.

5. This was the first Vs. broadcast we've seen this season due to the petty, childish Direct TV/Comcast feud (for the record - TSO was extremely pro Direct TV, as Comcast is the devil). Pens vs. Wings, you would expect, oh, I dunno, an NBC style broadcast......didn't happen. No excessive fawning over the Pens. The Red Wings got mentioned, so that was nice. But Doc and Edzo were.....good. Which makes me appreciate how shitty NBC's coverage of hockey is. I mean, for me, I didn't have much to compare it to. Vs was blacked out all season and I've never had it before. Local Fox Sports and Comcast sports channels do a good job. But kudos to Vs. It was also nice to NOT see Pierre McGuire or Milbury.

6. Good game Wings. Jimmy, Z, Pav, everyone.

On a totally separate note, H2H is fast around the corner. Since this might be the last time I post before then (unless that crafty Nat talks me into another game recap!), I just wanted to express how exciting this is. I mainly thought of all this tonight because I just reserved our car for the trip (full size baby because TSO is stylin'). Charity, hockey, and a chance to hang with the best blog community in the world.......amazing. I mean, folks chipped in, and now we're shipping up a guy from Brazil to see a Wings game! AND we raised a bunch of money for charity. AND Michael Petrella is going to wear a fabulous Bert tribute shirt. Life is good. Can't wait to meet everyone!

You mean to tell me it's a Wednesday and it's acceptable to drink and write?

(Puh-leeze. Like we're deterred from drinking and writing any other day.)

Happy St. Patrick's Day, heathens! May the road rise up to meet you, at least enough to catch your vomit so it doesn't splatter all over your shoes.

Anybody got any good plans for the day's festivities? If you're still looking for something to do, you're totally welcome to come to our haunt tonight. As a matter of fact, I've drawn up a little invitation:

So, what we have on the agenda is me presenting a shamrock to Homer, who's totally attending our shenanigans, then the three of us (plus you) are going to get drunk off some Jameson, then we're going to steal a Guinness truck, then we're going to get rich from selling the Guinness we don't drink (and we're totally cashing it in for golden medallions, hence the image of Ballin' B doing a pot-o-gold dance), and then we're going to wrap it up by eating some Irish stew and drinking some leftover Guinness.

Anyway, the Wings are off until Friday after winning thrice. (Love that word--doesn't it just sound dirty, like thrust? Thrice thrust? Thrust thrice? I promise I was going somewhere with that.)

I was typing something to my pal saraneuie the other day, and I was talking about H2H, and I typed, "...next week at H2H", and I got giddily excited. Next week, y'all! If we're excited, imagine how Herm feels.

So, it got me to thinking: So many of us are descending upon Hockeytown from all over the place--perhaps not as exotic and faraway of a place as Brazil, but it's fascinating nonetheless to think of how spread out the community of Wings-based friends is.

So, in honor of all the special places we individually hail from, as well as all the togetherness and other warm and fuzzy feelings we'll be experiencing at H2H, I present you with today's question demand:

Tell us something awesome about your hometown and/or current locale.
Brian and I hail from a very small town, the population of which is 653, according to the 2000 Census. Neither of us have ever lived within the town limits, but for the record, the county proper has a grand total of four stoplights.

Our town is known for being the country's first spa; George Washington and various other colonial VIPs used to chillax in the constantly 74-degree mineral waters that still draw visitors from the DC area. I guess you could say that to our Founding Fathers, this area was the Champagne Room for ballers only.

We also have a WWII-era movie theater with one screen, typically showing new-ish releases about eight weeks after they first hit normal theaters, a mom-and-pop gas station where high schoolers exchange bullshit and blowjays, a coffeeshop where most of the coffee flavors taste like pee, a bar out in the sticks with a built-in Patsy Cline museum, one newspaper serving the entire county that's only published on Wednesdays (current headline: "Sheriff & commission clash over staff duties"), and a tiny church on just about every mile-long stretch of highway in the countryside.

But the thing that makes our town unique from other small towns in our region is that we have a castle.

It was built sometime in the 1800s by a rich old dude who'd married a young hottie, and of course, he wanted to impress her. In true dramatic fashion, he constructed the castle on a ridge high atop the town, so from the castle's turret she could look directly down upon the town park and see the outlying areas of the town at large. The wife lives on in legend as the host of the grandest and most debauched parties (and no, for the record, TSO does not trace its lineage back to her, although it would be kickass).


What about you guys? What's the deal with where you live? What puts your location on the map?

And one more time, happy St. Patrick's Day:

Hero

Back in the saddle!

Thanks to a Wings' victory tonight in overtime over Buffalo, we're sitting pretty in the eighth seed, until at least tomorrow night, when current nemeses Nashville and Calgary take to the ice in their respective games.

TSO is comfortable yet slightly underwhelmed at the Wings' effort tonight. They came out for the first period, guns blazing, rattling two goals off early in the period, thanks to magic courtesy of Datsyuk and Eaves, and maintained a fast and urgent tempo until the first intermission.

The beginning of the second period left much to be desired, and though the Wings picked up the pace slightly in the second half of the period, not a whole hell of a lot occurred between then and the overtime winner by Rafalski.

A couple of quick thoughts:

1. Brian was extremely pissed at Zetterberg for failing to hustle to negate the icing called against Detroit late in the third period. I have a sinking feeling that had the outcome of the game been different, I'd probably be sleeping in the flood zone outside tonight.

2. Patrick Eaves is on fire as of late. For the most part, he played an amazing game; however, when he stuttered over and lost the puck that was right at his feet in front of Jimmy, I really considered hopping on NHL.com and purchasing a #17 jersey...and lighting it on fire. Because we weren't playing a team with the greatest offensive prowess, nothing resulted of Eaves's blunder, so all is forgiven over here at TSO. Now that we've gotten it out of our system, we'll just remember his awesomeness.

3. Pavel played a great game. We're still giddily and hopelessly in love with the top line.

And how's about one for celebrating our return to a playoff seed? Never hurts, right?

Can we please face Josh Harding for all games hereafter?

So this is what 60 minutes of Red Wings hockey feels like.

Detroit defeats Minnesota 5-1 and sure helped people betting online.

Henrik Zetterberg played like a man possessed tonight. TSO particularly enjoyed Babcock's pairing of Eaves with Hank, which resulted in that fabulous goal by Z. Wow. Either Henrik heard the cries of all the Detroit faithful accusing him of selling out by selling short, or Emma began passing on sexual congress with him. Take your pick. Whatever it was, more, please. (Our apologies to the Wings whose amorous endeavors fail as a result of their fans' selfish requests.)

How about the Mule? Franzen earned himself two goals tonight, and how awesome was it when the camera caught him on the bench right after he scored the second one? I swear to Christ, homeboy looked like he was about to straight up eat somebody. (Kings of Leon: You know that I conSUMED someBODAAAYYY...) And to be honest with you, I then did a five-second mental rundown of all the horrible things I've done lately, just to make sure I hadn't double-crossed Johan by hooking up with his significant other or relieving myself in his water bottle. My conscience is now at ease.

And what about that Miller/Filppula shorthanded rush, which resulted in a goal by Drew himself? Brilliant moves by both men. Not only was it awesome for scoring purposes, but it also proved that Miller can be just as adorable knocking a goal into the net off his own person as he is doing anything else. When Buffalo comes to town on Saturday night, not only will there be some good ol' sibling rivalry on the ice, but it'll be an adorable-off competition of epic magnitude between the two brothers, kinda like stumbling upon the Gerber baby playing peek-a-boo with the terrier group from the Westminster Kennel Club in a Dutch tulip garden while butterflies, bumblebees, and bubbles float through the air on a sunny day with just the right number of clouds in the turquoise sky to remind you of fluffy cotton candy. Siiiiigh.

We can't leave out Darren Helm from this one, either. How many times has he stepped into the crease at juuuuust the right fraction of a second to prevent a puck from sliding across the line? Genius, my friend. Jimmy had a good night, as well; he looked stronger tonight than he did two nights ago, stepping up to provide several clutch saves.

Anyone (Krononymous? Dena?) want to speculate on the over/under of the odds that our bud Marty Havlat sharted big time when he heard the thunder that could ONLY be the sound of KRONWALLING?

How sad is the state of Minnesota's power play? I'm not even sure I have the words to describe it. But, at gunpoint, I could make an attempt:



On an unrelated note, anybody else watching the game on the NHL Network catch that commercial about the journey of sperm through the conception process? Because, yeah, the one thing I was missing from that whole birds-and-the-bees convo my mom had with me back in the day was a militia of people dressed in riot gear to imitate the archnemeses of the little one-eyed snakes on their trek to sperminize the ova. Can you imagine what sex ed class in 7th grade would have been like if we could have reenacted that? Classic. So, uh, yeah, I'll probably tape it or something, if you want to come over and watch it with me.

Last but certainly not least, how's about dear Homer's efforts tonight? Mickey was right: Striking from that distance on the ice is definitely a rarity for #96. As Homer's gal Friday, I'm going to interpret his actions tonight as a preemptive measure to annex additional office space, so I'll be working the phones bright and early tomorrow morning to make sure we get all our building permits in order to comply with the zoning codes.

It's Wednesday.

We don't have one of our normal questions today.

Why? (Shit, does that count?)

Because today is the day immediately following last night's shitshow. My brain is fried. I can't think straight. I don't want to talk about actual hockey, even something as gratuitous as our typical Wednesday questions.

But we have to do something today. We can't just sit around and wallow in our own misery and hopelessness.

While talking to our bud Petrella earlier, he suggested going in a completely un-hockey-related route. He then proceeded to propose a question of two movies I've never seen before (subsequently, he no longer believes me when I state that I hail from Planet Awesome). My neurons wouldn't even allow me to come up with two other films worth discussing. Crap.

So, here's what we're going to do:

Describe your ideal dinner party of five guests, real or fictional, and elaborate on why you chose each guest.

Fun times, right?

My dinner table would look something like this:


Around the table there, clockwise from the left, we have Andy Botwin, Charlie Kelly, Andy Bernard, yours truly, George Oscar Bluth (G.O.B.), and Tomas Holmstrom. (Please note that--myself excluded--there is only one nonfictional character at my table.)

A. Andy Botwin

I recently started getting into Weeds. I'm almost done with the second season, and seriously--this guy took his 12-year-old uncool nephew to a happy ending "massage parlor" when said nephew complained about no one wanting to give him an HJ in school. Class act, all the way. More relatives should take a proactive role in this regard. His tagline should be: "Uncles: Preventing Loserdom in Adolescents Since 2005."

Oh, and did I mention he gave the single greatest speech on self-pleasure since, well, ever?



B. Charlie Kelly

I'm a little hesitant to invite the best character from It's Always Sunny over to a dinner party since the show makes it clear that he almost always smells like poo. But really, how could I omit the guy who brought us the fine art of "going American all over everyone's ass"?

Also, let's not forget that time Charlie and Mac were working in a mailroom and Charlie had a straight-up meltdown. Anybody else working in the professional world ever feel like pulling one of those? Oh, say, every single fucking day? Teach us your ways, Mr. Kelly.



C. Andy Bernard

Everyone's favorite sycophant, the "Nard-Dog." Another example of someone who had a meltdown at work, only he sprung back with great success. I choose Mr. Bernard, though, because he is by far my favorite character of The Office, dressing like a U.Va. undergrad and always dropping insights on his peers like the following:



D. G.O.B.

Oh, where do I even begin with this zany Bluth brother? He may not be the brother I have a real, actual crush on (hi, Jason Bateman), but I can't imagine the most well-known character of Arrested Development being played by anyone other than Will Arnett. Anyone ever experienced the feeling of immense disappointment upon discovering that your probable soulmate is a fictional character? It's not for nothing that I've long since adopted "I've made a huge mistake" as my personal anthem.



E. Tomas Holmstrom

Enough said, really. For the record, I am inviting the semi-fictional version of Homer that we've all crafted here at TSO: you know, the one with the Viking swords, and the crazy caveman relationship with his wife, and the night-howling...wait, why are we still pretending this is fictional?



(Whoever made that video, you are now my new best friend.)

You're fucking out!

...As in out of the playoffs! For now, anyway. I would rather have been dropping a hard Kenny Powers line after a win, but I think it fits tonight. Fair warning - I think Nat and I both were irrationally angry after this game.

So tonight's game was absurd. Maybe I'm a completely crazy fan, but this loss made me mad. You are battling for a playoff spot. A spot in the playoffs that the team you're playing can take from you by beating you. In this scenario, you are leading the game 2-1 at the start of the third...get outshot 15-4 in the last period and lose 4-2. That, to me, is a big sack o' horseshit. Where was the effort? I believe it was the good folks at Helm Street today who stated that this Wings team can be the best team in the league for about 20 minutes, and it's a pretty true statement. The second period? Amazing. Third period? Oy vey. My timely observations, with a few questions sprinkled in:

1. I'd love to hear someone who actually plays hockey on this (Chris from NOHS, Petrella, I'm looking at you, and probably others I'm forgetting ) - Was Jimmy kind of suspect tonight? He looked out of position a lot early, seemed to fight the puck a lot and have rebound issues. Maybe I'm crazy. Though I'm saying this, I don't think you can really blame him for the goals tonight....and this isn't pro-Ozzie-he-should-be-playing-right-now crazy talk. He shouldn't. Jimmy is our goaltender, for better or worse, and I think for the better. Jimmy just seemed shaky tonight.

2. I know it was mentioned a lot at the end of the telecast, but Hank, um, doesn't really look good. I mean, the guy is a warrior, so I don't judge. I think any of us would rather see a half strength Hank instead of, oh, I don't know, Jeremy Williams. But it is what it is.

3. Pav, Homer, and Franzen - Domination. Franzen looks great.

4. If only the Wings were in the East...

5. I can't even count for you the amount of swearing I edited out of this. This game was sad. It just makes you think - how can this team have a third period like this? NOW? At this point in the season?

I know I'm not even coherent right now so I turn it over to you the readers. Talk me, Brian, off my over-reactory ledge.

A welcome-back to Lilja, and oh, yeah--how about that game yesterday?

If hockey fans are the best, then Red Wings fans are the most awesomest times infinity.

Our pal saraneuie, owner of her own photo blog, has generously agreed to continue sending her welcome-back montages to us to post on here. A million thanks, Sara, and without further adieu, I present you with a collage of Andreas Lilja's first game back at the Joe:

Even still, seeing him back in the Winged Wheel feels too good to be true, like I'm imagining it.

***

And yeah, how about that game yesterday against our nemeses? Felt pretty fucking good to win 5-4 at the United Center, didn't it?

My favorite part, other than Datsyuk's amazing breakaway goal and the fantabulous Franzen interpretation of a diving motion (LOVE how Chicago brings out the best in terms of the Mule's antics), was how the Hawks didn't really seem to get that the game was over at the final buzzer.

Because I'm pretty 'hood, I had to think long and hard about what gangsta song I would use to describe how I felt following yesterday's victory. I think I've chosen a solid one: