The Caniac Carnival was held at the RBC today–I, of course, had to work, so I missed it. Probably a good thing, as I would more than likely have burst into tears upon seeing this:
And the best part? It can never, ever be taken away from us. Many thanks to hyena from teh LGC for snapping this photo.
Tverdovskii, rights to Jack Johnson (and his Disco Dad) to Kings for Tim Gleason and Eric Belanger
And of course I had to find out about this RIGHT BEFORE I HAVE TO GO TO WORK.
(82 WPM typing speed, don’t fail me now….)
How do I feel? Uhh….fook meh, I just woke up from a pre-work nap, so I’m not sure HOW to feel right now.
Check that–I do know how to feel. Relieved…kinda. I mean, at least the Jack Johnson saga is over, and if the kid winds up becoming a discipline problem in the NHL then JimR looks like a genius. Otherwise, there’s going to be some unhappy people talking maybes and might-have-beens.
Tver, well…до свидания и счастливый случай, and thanks for stopping. Say hey to my old smokin’ buddy Danny Markov for me, willya?
I’ll reserve judgement on the n00bs until I’ve had a chance to see them in the Sightless Eye come Wednesday night, but it looks to me like there might be something else in the offing.
Call it a hunch.
http://www.carolinahurricanes.com/news/news.asp?articleid=1609
More comments after I get home from work tonight.
Man, let me tell you. There were some highs and lows from last night’s preseason game between the Preds and the ‘Canes.
In a nutshell:
Cale Hulse didn’t impress me at all–and paired with Oleg Tverdovskii, he scared the piss out of me. Wooley, though, I think I could warm up to. I didn’t notice him at all, which is a good thing for a defenseman. Rookie Harrison Reed (for whom I shall have to devise a clever nickname) was fairly impressive, and it warmed my heart to see Shane Willis in the Sightless Eye again (the other fans thought so too–when he scored you’d have thought the place was sold out to the doors, the roar was so loud).
Got some nasty looks when I applauded Joe, Lord of Evil’s two goals (one the game-winner, the other the shootout-winner), and I wanted to throttle this one toolbag who sat in front of me during first period and yelled all kinds of idiotic stuff at Cam Ward when he wasn’t staring at the spandex-clad booties of the Storm Squad members in front of him (and I wanted to slap his wife, who snapped at me “we have to listen to you, so you have to listen to us!” when I said “you DO realize this is only preseason right? Relax already”.
One VERY funny thing I noticed on the jumbotron: an appeal to the fans to not heckle the opponent. Excuse me? Don’t heckle opposing players?
I realize where they’re coming from with this–they don’t want people climbing the glass to rain trash and/or obscenities down into the penalty box or bench area (as one woman did during the 2002 SCF run–the only time I have ever applauded Brendan Shanahan was when he gave the shit right back to that woman during Game 3); but really, the way they worded it was kinda bogus and….well, anti-fun.
Just some quick impressions and observations from last night.
A piece of this team’s history passed away.
Posted by “Whaler” on thescoreboards.com’s Hurricanes board this morning:
The author of my most-used reference books about the Whalers has died.
Jack Lautier, 53, died of lung cancer. He was a non-smoker.
He wrote books about the history of the WHA, and recently published a book about a year with the Hartford Wolf Pack. But mostly, he’ll be remembered for his original “15 Years of Whalers Hockey”, and for perhaps his best reference work, “Forever Whalers”. These last two are never absent from my desk.
*doffs cap for a respectful moment of silence*
A couple days ago, my buddy Nate sent me the following PM on Teh LGC:
Subj: Want your picture taken with the Cup?
I’ve got an extra ticket if you want it. My dad & his girlfriend can’t make it.
I, being no fool, replied with:
!!!
Deal me in!
So this morning at 9 AM I met up with Nate and his wife Kathryn at the RBC Center for the “Season Ticket Holder’s Day With The Cup”. Now, I am not a season ticket holder (ah, Nortel, how I miss the $60K/year you paid me)–but I managed to get my mitts on a ticket, so I went.
The lines weren’t very long thanks to the “all-day” nature of the two-day event (yesterday and today)–and you could only go once during the two days. I’m in line with my digital camera, and Kyle Prairie (Canes ticket sales boss) comes over and says “You want me to take your picture for you AQ?” I said “Nah, I’m cool. Nate’s got it. Thanks though.”
It’s generally assumed that people south of, say, Chicago don’t understand hockey. That folks down in places like North Carolina can’t wrap their brains around the idea of hockey being like a religion.
Anyone who says that certainly doesn’t know me. To me, the RBC is holy ground and my being at a game is a religious experience akin to being on the sidelines at Valhalla. The warriors beat the snot out of each other all day, and when the battle is done they shake hands and go chill out until Gullinkambi crows and they go do it all over again. It’s my opportunity to spend quality time with my gods.
I had all these ideas in my head about what I’d do when I finally got to lay hands on the Cup. I’d cry, I’d drop over dead from the shock (which would probably make some Sabres fans happy), I’d shout praises to the gods, whatever. When I got up to the holy Cup and I came face to face with it–not the respectful 3 feet away that I’d stand every other time I saw it, but right there an inch away from my rosaceated well-scrubbed grill–all of those ideas vanished and were replaced by this feeling of awe.
I started running my fingers over the bowl and the upper part of the base, reading some of the team names on it–the old ones that came before us. The Montreal Wanderers, the Vancouver Millionaires, and the Ottawa Senators, the “Silver Sevens” who died during the Great Depression and were reborn sixty years later. All the old teams that played for the Cup before the NHL was even thought of and who were just a memory now, immortalized in solid silver.
At that moment, I understood how Mike Keenan felt in 1994 when he sat there all night letting the spirits of the Cup speak to him and tell their stories. If I’d stayed there much longer, I’d probably have done as he did and burst into tears. Nobody spoke–or if they did, I certainly didn’t hear them. It was very quiet in the East Priority Lounge, a almost reverential silence as I stood there for a few seconds that felt to me like forever and marveled at the Cup. I let my fingertips linger over the name Victoria Cougars, and then I looked up and quietly said “We really won this, didn’t we?” as Game 7 played on the jumbotron and every TV in the house.
Kathryn said “Yep, we sure did!”–and I did the only thing that I could think of doing:
And I whispered “thank you” to the spirits of the Cup.
(OK, now I’m crying.)
Jack Johnson staying at UMich; Dancin’ Dad says “fuck y’all haters.”This is not at all a surprise–and good on Luke for getting that quote in at the end of the article, even though it hasn’t stopped random members of the Idiot Brigade from posting stuff like this on thescoreboards.com’s Hurricanes board:
No offense but he has no intention of staying 4 years and getting a degree. I truly believe this has nothing to do with education.
I don’t think JJ ever intends to wear the red eye. I’d dump him now. Blasphemy some will say, but the kid obviously has his head so far up his posterior, that he doesn’t know night from day. He’s either WAY too imature to play in the NHL, or his family has Lindros Syndrome (do you even know the story behind Eric Lindros’ refusal to play for the Nordiques? Or do you just like saying that so that you sound intelligent? Seriously, I’m asking here). Either way, this kid has trouble written all over him. Trade him, or his rights to the first sucker to offer something. I say it again, he’ll never wear a Canes sweater.
I’m not even going to bother with the Hurricanes’ official website boards, but I’m sure there’s even more cerebellum-rotting venom to be had over there.
Whatever–but at least SOMEBODY in the Johnson family addressed the mistaken belief that JJ is staying in school just so that his rights will run out and he’ll be able to sign with the Pens and be reunited with his best buddy Sid Crosby. As I’ve said 238947243 times before: the kid has said that he wants to win an NCAA title at UMich like his father did, and that when that happens (or when he graduates, whichever comes first) he’ll be more than proud to don the Sightless Eye of Carolina. He’s never deviated from this, and he’s never even so much as hinted otherwise. JimR, on the other hand, jumped the gun when he presumed that JJ would be as easily swayed as…oh, I dunno, David Tanabe. I can understand his and Lavi’s frustration, but at the same time? I’d say it’s largely self-induced.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Jason Woolley has been added to the training camp roster–which has a couple people going “YEAH BABY”, but me? Errrr….not so sure I like this one. But then, last season I wasn’t overly enthused with the signing of Frankie Kaberle; so there you go.
(p.s. Dear TSN; The News and Observer is in RALEIGH, not Charlotte. Plz to pull heads out of posteriors and check your facts every now and then, kkthx.)
LIKE WE NEVER SAW THIS COMING, HUH?
Frankie Kaberle wound up needing shoulder surgery after all, and he’ll be out until March or thereabouts. This is disappointing, but really not all that surprising. The ‘Canes did fairly well last season with a pretty banged-up roster, so we’ll see how they do this time around.
Life, hope, you get the picture.
In the wake of that announcement, a new addition was made to the training camp roster: Unsigned free agent Cale Hulse, late of the Calgary Flames and third husband of B-movie starlet and ex-Baywatch bimbette (not to mention Playboy centerfold) Gena Lee Nolin.
Wow, I sure feel secure about our title defense now.
Pass me the Redstone kids, I have a feeling I’ll need it before long.
Not.
Apparently some fool from a Devils fanboard took exception with this post here, and broadcast it on his message board for the rest of his little buddies to read.
One problem: he linked to the OLD blog, and I only noticed because somebody was “kind” enough to e-maul me and let me know “hey, you got linked from $board.”
Some of the comments are quite amusing (and, of course, only served to reinforce what I already knew about the fans on that particular board: that they’re a bunch of microcranial lowlifes).
all that southern slurs and babble gave me a headache in that article. What a dumb bitch. (You shouldn’t talk about your mother that way.)
“3 cups uh duh? what have you done us lately?”
What did they ever do before last year? uh duh…Not a damn thing. (Except smack your bitch asses out of the playoffs twice in a row.)
That Bitch needs a good smacking. (Come get some, punk)
Fuck those assholes, those rubes discovered hockey in 2006 and all of a sudden they bleed Canes Red and White. Wait until Carolina has another losing season so they can draw 7,000 a game again like they used to, fuck those clownshoes. (FYI kid, I’ve been a hockey fan for longer than you’ve been alive–and I’ve stuck with the Hurricanes through the down years too.)
(guess I shouldn’t tell that guy that the Devils don’t draw so hot either, huh?)
I just find it amusing, really.
Ernesto didn’t make that big a splash in the Triangle (and thank Thor for that–I didn’t feel like having to get out the hip-waders to go pre-order “Burning Crusade” at the Crabtree Valley EB location), so of course the talk has turned to trades.
No really, it has.
The Toronto Sun is reporting the rumor that a Jack Johnson for Jordan Staal trade is in the works (head down to the bottom of the page, after the bit about Derek Boogerhead (or however you spell his name) getting busted for smacking down some poor slob at a nightclub in Saskatoon (I know, the thought of a nightclub in Saskatoon surprises me too).
This has been floated around more than a few times–mostly on message boards–and I’m wondering “why?”
Granted, Johnson has some discipline issues–hopefully Red Berenson will burn those out of him during the rest of the boy’s time at UMich. Granted, it would be nice to have two Staal brothers playing on the same team. Granted, the n00blets in the Caniac Nation (est. 1997) would be happy to see Johnson gone, since they’re too clueless to understand that the boy’s always been up-front about a national title with the Not-Named Team err Wolverines being his top priority.
HOWEVER:
The ‘Canes need defense. Badly. Would this be the grievous wound that the Wesley trade signing was back in ‘96? No–but the Hurricanes’ top three defensemen are 36, 37, and 32 respectively, and there are precious few NHL-ready guys behind them. Mind you, I like Anton Babchuk and Mike Commodore–but the cupboard’s a little bare for my liking, prospect-wise.
So yeah. I’ll believe that little rumor when I actually see a trade, because right now I am just not seeing the wisdom in it.
AND SPEAKING OF SEEING THE WISDOM IN THINGS…..
The ‘Canes have signed David Tanabe and Brad Isbister. At first, I was wondering what the hell JimR was thinking in continuing the 2001-2002 Reunion Tour–but the more I think about it the more I’m willing to take a “wait and see” approach. It’s very odd, really. All these guys that didn’t do well under Chairman Mo are coming back into the fold, and I still find myself asking “why?” because I keep forgetting that the paradigm has shifted radically from the “defense-defense-defense” days that marked the Hurricanes’ first 8 seasons in North Carolina.
And, finally, a cozy little feel-good piece from Toolbag Junior about former Hurricanes defenseman Aaron Ward, who will be heading up to the Big Apple next week to prepare for training camp with the New York Penoilercanes. And of course, since it wouldn’t be a Toolbag Junior column otherwise, the piece leads off with an egregious gaffe.
Aaron Ward, a big contributor to the Carolina Hurricanes winning the Stanley Cup, was traded to the New York Rangers two months ago. But he’s having trouble getting from traded away to gone away.
I’ve considered dropping the guy a line and saying “Hey Ned, AWard wasn’t traded–he was signed as an unrestricted free agent”, but I already know what the response will be:
“Well it’s basically the same thing.”
The more things change….
(edit @2248 hrs, 5 Sept: The article’s been updated. Many thanks to Ashley for the heads-up)
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