Sweet Tea, Barbecue, and Bodychecks

OK, so I’m reading a message-board thread, and I find this smelly little road-apple dropped right in the middle of it:

All and all, Carolina is the best team in the division and should be able to secure a 3rd seed in the Eastern Conference

And I, of course, was done. I am sick and tired of this “oh, we should get the third seed cos we won the Division” crap. I may be one to hedge my bets and say “I hope they do well this season”–but my expectations are pretty plain.

CUP. OR. BUST.

With that comes FIRST. OR. BUST. Why?  Simple: I am sick and frakkin’ tired of the Southeast winding up (more often than not) “third by default” instead of “third on points”, which has happened in every season except for 2004 and 2006. Nobody of course says anything when it’s the Northeast winding up third-by-default (hello, Boston)–but the Southeast? PMF CONTRACT TEH WHOAL DUHVISHUN!!1!one

Fuck me. I am sick and tired of “Oh, I’ll be happy with mediocrity” crap like this from our own damn fans. Third seed….third seed my ASS. All that kind of stupidity does is give ammo to embittered SlugThugs and other assorted clowns that want nothing more than to keep the Southeast down, and I’ll be damned if I sit by and allow that to happen any longer.

Fuckheads.

The Hurricanes have instituted a new rule at the RBC, which has a handful of fans plenty steamed:

“No autographs will be given during training camp, practices, or any pre-game skates while inside the RBC Center. Autographs are available after practice on regular practice days only, not after pre-game skates or after games.“

The reaction is a bit mixed, but there are a few folks that are all up in arms over this.

Personally? All for it–and I say this as somebody who used to hang out “out back” after just about every home game to say hey to folks, wave g’bye to team buses (and, if it was the Red Wings, to throw hexes on ‘em), and give good-natured grief to visiting fans. It was my social time, and I met a lot of neat people because of it. But I also saw more than a few freaky stalker types and more than a few sellers.

There were collectors, too; like Mike from Asheboro, who has possibly the biggest collection of hockey cards that I have ever seen (and wants to get as many of them signed as possible, just to say he did it), and the McConnell Clan with their 293774 kids (who have a collection that’s about as large). Those folks I do feel bad for, especially Mike–who drives up to Raleigh for just about every home game on nights when he’s gotta be to work early the next morning–and other fans that come from the far reaches of the Carolinas to see their team.

Hell, I’ve got my own collection of signed memorabilia that I hold dear. I would never sell any of it, and I have a moral objection to people that aren’t even fans and just want to sell signed merchandise for personal gain (especially people that use their kids (or unsuspecting fans–”hey, can you get this signed for me?”) to get autographs or–like notorious Thrashers “fan” Grandma (of whom poor Frankie Kaberle is scared shitless and about whom I and many Thrashers fans can tell quite a few stories), claim that it’s for their kids or grandkids only to turn around and hawk it on eBay or whatever). Folks like that, I have no sympathy for whatsoever.

And then there are the stalkers*–one of the more notorious ones was Pippi Longstalker, who has been stalking Bates Battaglia since the dawn of time it seems. This girl used to haunt practices and games (with her mother aiding and abetting her, no less!), hoping to get Batesy to notice her so she could land him as a meal ticket. She went to every Hurricanes game. And when I say every game, I mean every. game. Home AND road. This girl really got bad after I stopped hanging out “out back”–she’s followed Bates home on several occasions, once almost plowing right into a local TV news van in her haste to get on after Bates’ Escalade. People like that, I don’t feel sorry for.

Besides, as Miz Beth points out, we Caniacs still have it the best of any team in the NHL when it comes to getting your memorabilia signed by your favorite Hurricane (or ex-Cane). So stop frickin’ whining and get your ass to the RecZone on a practice day if you’re so all-fired hot to get a signature or two on your prized authentic $texas-costing RBK shoulder-piped funky-zoom System Shock Jersey. It’s not that hard, really.

Just my two cents on that–and at least now the RBC has something in writing, rather than engaging in their usual HUA nonsense of some securebots being properly programmed while the rest just get left to their AI’s own devices (which isn’t very I, if you ask me).

*:by “stalker”, I do not refer to those of us fans–male or female–that love to gawk at players they find hot. I guarantee you that the bulk of us that stood “out back” and make risqué comments about this or that player are gawkers, not stalkers.

When I saw the posts on HLOG and Behind the Jersey, I laughed. “No way,” I said, “would that happen to us.”

And then I decided that perhaps I should go check on that before I point and laugh…I’m so sorry I did.

“Look cute while rooting for your favorite team!” — NHL

I want the names of the persons responsible for this travesty, and I want their heads on pikes in front of my apartment by noon tomorrow! Pink says “Old Time Hockey” about like Abu Ghraib says “Free Glamour Shots Sitting”.

PINK? PINK?! Gee NHL, stereotype much? It has been my extensive experience that the average female fan is a fan of the GAME first, and the players a distant second. I’d wear that Warchief shirt, if it were actually in Hurricanes colors and I wasn’t built like the Fruit-of-the-Loom Apple Dude. But pink? Oh HELL no–I do not need some drunken smacktard taking a look at me wearing some Pepto Pink pile of crap and projectile vomiting a bunch of puckbunny smack in my general direction, nor does any other female fan who goes to the game because they love hockey (rather than because they’re adorning their boyfriend’s arm or hope to catch the eye of J. Random McNHLPlayer).

The marketing and merchandising department of the NHL needs to pull their heads out of their asses and figure out that their average female fan is NOT going to go for this. Of course, that’s about like asking the NHL to put a team in Moose Jaw, SK…fuckheads.

There are lots of things that piss me off. The heat, telemarketers, insurance salesmen, the Raleigh PD, any team from Detroit, take your pick.

HOWEVER! One thing is guaranteed to piss me off more than anything else in the world; willful misuse and abuse of English by a native speaker. You people have no idea how hard I have to work to control my visceral urge to beat the ever-lovin’ crap out of some motard that comes before me at my job and proceeds to treat me like I’m as dumb as he is while grossly misusing his mother tongue.

Language is a beautiful thing, children. If you’ve grown up speaking a language, and your IQ is higher than that of your average Barcalounger, you had damn well better learn to use that language well if you don’t want to be seen as a Sabres fan dim-witted fool.

Let’s start with my favorite Crime Against English: the double-negative. Examples of this include:

Irregardless is NOT a word. Just because it’s the name of a nice eatery here in Raleigh, and just because it’s listed in the Oxford English Dictionary (a copy of which I have on my bookshelf–along with the invaluable Chicago Manual of Style), that does not mean that this double-negative is considered standard (or proper) English.

I can’t get no satisfaction, so the song says–and I can’t listen to that song without wanting to rip Mick Jagger’s balls off and stuff them up his nose.

And then we have the hilarity that ensues when I hear somebody using a word incorrectly–and I KNOW that it’s incorrect. The first commenter in this post to Lord Stanley’s Blog was referring to a magnate, which is “a person of rank, power, influence, or distinction often in a specified area” (e.g. a software magnate). Dictionaries are made for a reason, people. If you are not sure, LOOK IT THE HELL UP BEFORE YOU MAKE YOURSELF LOOK STUPID.

You want to send me into a near-homicidal rage? Use a word incorrectly, and when I politely point out your error look at me like I’m stupid and say “Whatever, you know what I meant”.

Sure, I know what you meant: you’re a blithering idiot, that’s what you meant. I’m going to mock your dumb ass my taking your misusage and running it into the ground, and then I’ll follow it up by grabbing a dictionary and piledriving it into your thick skull with a jackhammer!

Whatever, you know what I meant.

AND ANOTHER THING!

Lolcats is one thing. Meta-neologistic “gamerspeak” words like “pwn” and “lewtz” are one thing (well, one collective thing). That’s intentional linguistic mangling for the purposes of humor. It’s satirical. I let that slide. But the next time I see an out-of-place apostrophe turning a plural into a possessive or “their”, “there”, and “they’re” (for example) used as if they’re interchangeable parts, or see some variant of “ur”, “laf”, or a number used in place of a word or as part of a shortened-for-idiot-comprehension word (e.g. “ne1″), there’s a good chance that I may snap and go on a mad shooting spree! I did not ace the Verbal portion of my SAT (TWICE!) so that I could put up with that kind of slack-assed tomfoolery, people.

I’m not linguistically perfect, but at least I know how to spellcheck and use a damn style manual and dictionary. Sheesh.

NASCAR towns just don’t deserve hockey.

Luke DeCock: My ShorDurPerSav since…how long has he written for the ‘Canes now?

(Note: I suggest actually clicking on the link and reading what Luke wrote before popping off a response.)

Courtesy of Emperor Paul I:

NHL in talks with Bristol. Bettman says “What can I say, we miss our old abusive relationship.”

Because really, The Worldwide Leader In Rodeo didn’t give the NHL short enough shrift (and act enough like the League only has five teams) the first time around.

More exposure? From Bristol? If Bristol will treat the NHL better than NBC has, I’m the Pope. Don’t blame me, I was only following orders. Of course, I will give Bristol one thing: they can certainly do better than to have former Whalers coach (not to mention the chief fellator of Sidney Crosby and, of course, whoever is playing against the team he used to coach) Pierre McGuire and Mad Mike Milbury as the talking heads in the studio.

WUWT, 30 Rock? You pick possibly the two biggest assclowns in hockey as your broadcast crew over the far superior Ray Ferraro and Bill Clement? May I have some of whatever the high-ups at NBC Sports are smoking, please?

Sheesh.

I go away for a couple weeks cos of work and other non-hockey stuff, and what do I find?

Chris Cheli-ass was named the Mark Messier Leader Of The Year.  Yeah, there’s a match made in Nastrond–I know I’d consider a whining cheap-shotting classless hotel-room trasher who refuses to shake hands with his opponents a real leader, there. Why not just call it the “Mark Messier Aging Asshat Award” if all Mess is going to do is pick the oldest assiest player in the League every season?

Bite me, Chief.

IN OTHER NEWS:

Cam Ward: Hot off a World Champeenships win, 3 years, 8 bills. Here’s hoping he earns that cash.

Now that the Sabres got blasted off the “BOO HOO CAROLINA STOLE OUR CUP” Bus O’ Bulldada by the Sens, I am back to loathing the Red Wings in full effect. Punks.

And speaking of the Sens: These Finals are, so far, showing the value of Finals-veteran leadership. The Ducks have plenty right now–the Sens will have plenty after this is all over. I’m still barracking for the Sens, but they have got to start burying those chances they’re getting and fast.

BTW, TSN: Going an hour away to Newport Beach and talking to a Red Wings fan who says “Durrrr, Sens in three!” != accurate gauge of fan interest in hockey.  And Reuters?  WTF was up with going to Disneyland and asking people about the Finals?  EVERYBODY THERE IS FROM OUT OF TOWN, YOU MORONS.  That’s like asking Roger from Medicine Hat if he knows who’s playing for the North Carolina 4-AAA Pop Warner title.

Fuck you very much, you elitist pricks. Just cos I’m cheering for the Sens, that doesn’t mean I gotta put up with that kind of elitist bulldada. Hockey will never grow in the southern States like I and others want it to as long as we have to deal with elitist garbage from asshats like that.

And speaking of asshats, I see that Jim Ballsillie has finally found a victim. I’m sure the Chief is wetting himself with glee at the thought of Nashville losing its team, but hopefully the fans will give Ballsillie a big middle-finger and get more than 14,000 per game–which, of course, means that Captain Patent Infringer will have to Karmanos his way out of Nashville to bring the team to Hamilton.

But it’ll be OK, of course, because the team will be going North instead of South. Yeah.

Andy Delmore got called up–and of course it was AFTER the Blue Jackets were in town, which meant that there was no good-natured teasing to be had from me. Ah well–there’s always a roadie to Tampa in January, since it looks like Gruumsh One-Eye errr Bryan Berard will be laid up with that bulging disc in his back for a good while yet.

And speaking of the 2004 Cup Champs, the Hurricanes beat them in a 6-4 thriller last night at the RBC. Happy Yule to me, the ‘Canes are 7 points out in front of the rest of the Southeast now. *dances* Love the Lightning–when they’re not playing us or anywhere near us in the standings. It’s a sibling-rivalry thing, see.

In other news: Team USA announced its selections the other night–and I find myself wondering what in the Nine Hells GM Don Waddell was thinking when he green-lit this roster.

Chris Chelios? Derian Hatcher? Pudge Tkachunk? Do they want to lose in Turin? I mean, I realize that the crop of US-born defensemen is a little on the thin side right now–but I’d take Bret Hedican or Brian Leetch or even Eric freaking Weinrich and his fog-lamp visor over two slugs like Hatcher and Chelios. And for forwards? Hello, I’ll take an in-shape (if a little streaky) Matt Cullen or even a slightly over-the-hill Tony bloody Amonte or a VERY over-the-hill John LeClair over Keith Tkachuk’s injured and loafy ass. The only way Waddell could have hosed this up more than he did is if he’d put Gruumsh on the roster.

At least they didn’t put Jeremy Roenick on the team–so perhaps the furniture in Turin will be safe this time around (and I’m the King of Siam). If Peter Laviolette manages to get this team to anything more than 4th place (if they’re lucky), with the defense he’s got, I will PERSONALLY greet him at the airport when he comes back with a mariachi band, a gallon bottle of Spañada, and a box of White Owls–cos…damn.

I’ll give the princely sum of 1650 Lire to anyone who tapes a sign to Keith Tkachuk’s back that reads “GOONIES NEVER SAY DIE!” I’ll pay double if you provide me with photographic proof of the deed, and triple if you get the reference.

And if Eric Staal doesn’t make Team Canada, I’m going to don blue and gold and cheer for Sweden this year. I’m part Swedish, people–I’m allowed (and France isn’t sending a team anyway, as far as I know). And it’ll annoy Golbez, which means that it’ll be more fun for me.

Moving right along!

I do seem to have stirred up quite a hornet’s nest with my little rant last week about the double-standard that a lot of fans (and a good many mediots) love to use when it comes to judging what’s a good hockey market or not. I find it strangely amusing–but at the same time, I don’t care if people like what I say on the topic or not. I stand by my assertion that if Carolina’s a bad market because the attendance isn’t in the top half of the League, then Boston and Chicago and all the other markets that don’t sell out their building every night are bad markets too–and nobody will convince me otherwise, ever.

On a much more serious note, Phyllis Gretzky passed away on Monday night after a lengthy battle with lung cancer. My thoughts and prayers go out to the Gretzky family at this time.

Have a Happy Yule, folks. Please enjoy time with your families, and let your loved ones know that you love them.

I was so beat on Saturday night that when I got home from work, I just went right to bed.

Oh, what I missed.

I swear, I must be like the only person on the whole planet who was NOT surprised by Marek Malik’s shootout-winner the other night. I just laugh whenever I watch that highlight, because it’s just so him. I’ve been watching the guy for years, kids, and I’ve known for ages that he’s capable of pulling some crazy move out of thin air at any moment. It’s just the way he is.

Of course, not everyone thinks it’s so great. Kelly Hrudey, obviously bitter that the Leafs have sucked on toast in shootouts so far (or bitter that a Leaf didn’t score like that in a shootout–take your pick), has decided that he’s going to keep whining on the Ceeb (until somebody decides to take the goal away, apparently) that the Serene Master’s goal shouldn’t have counted because he looped the puck back around his left ankle before shooting it over Kolzig’s shoulder.

The bug that Hrudey has up his ass is the following clause from NHL Rule 30a (Penalty Shots):

The puck must be kept in motion towards the opponent’s goal line and once it is shot, the play shall be considered complete.

The argument presented is that the puck must always maintain forward motion, and that by bringing it back a bit, His Serenity negated that and the shot should not have counted.

Uhh….yeah.

I think that it’s time for what I like to call “Physics for Whiny Ex-goalies”. Let’s say that I am on a cruise ship that is sailing toward the Cayman Islands. I am running as fast as I can toward the stern of the ship. The ship is still moving toward the Cayman Islands, even though I’m running astern. It doesn’t matter that I’m technically running AWAY from the Cayman Islands; I am still on the ship, the ship is in control of me, therefore I am moving toward the Cayman Islands whether I want to be or not. The only way for me to NOT be moving toward the Cayman Islands would be to jump overboard.

By the same token, the only way for that shot not to have counted would be if Malik had lost control of the puck. If that had happened, THEN and ONLY then would the rule have applied. Since the Serene Master was still in control of the puck and still moving toward the goal, the puck was still moving toward the goal (i.e. forward) and therefore the shot counts.

Memo to Kelly Hrudey: The laws of physics say “Sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stop trying to play rules-lawyer because you suck even more at that than you did as a goalie!”

Just sayin’.