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Archive for January, 2009

Inspired by Patty (in Dallas)’s kind words for the All-Star Game we now present to you our reasons why we aren’t joining the ranks of whiners and complainers trying to kill the midseason classic buzz.

1. The Superskills and All-Star Game bring out the very best in mic’ed up players. Between Marty Turco, Manny Legace, and Rick DiPietro, we’ve been treated to truly wonderful, off-the-cuff commentary in a relaxed hockey environment.

2. The consistently hideous uniforms. There has never been a cool all-star uniform in any sport, and that’s something many people would see fit to complain about. But you know what? We love the equalizing effect the ugly unis have. Every All Star team has its brightest lights and its “Her?”s, but the guys at both extremes, and all the ones in between, look evenly dopey in their dumb sweaters. There’s something incredibly charming about Joe Guy-Who-Got-Named-To-The-Roster-Because-He’s-The-Only-One-On-His-Team-Anyone’s-Even-Remotely-Heard-Of standing next to Bob First-Ballot-Hall-Of-Famer during player introductions, both of them knowing that in a few years someone will look at the tape of it and think, “Holy crap, but both those guys look ridiculous in those sweaters. Were those ever cool?”

3. The random mashup of players on the bench during games. It always seems remarkably silly and fun when they show shots of the benches during the ASG and we see Joe Guy-Who-Got-Named-To-The-Roster-Because-He’s-The-Only-One-On-His-Team-Anyone’s-Even-Remotely-Heard-Of sitting next to Bob First-Ballot-Hall-Of-Famer, interacting in an actual hockey-ish context.

4. Players we don’t normally pay attention to. We have massive tunnel vision when it comes to watching hockey these days; we can spend all day deeply immersed in hockey coverage and conversation online and never once venture beyond discussion of just the Devils. Sure, we watch other teams when the Devils aren’t on TV, but we’re often watching our designated secondary team instead. We’ll follow two or three teams closely during a season, and just ignore everyone else. So the All-Star events give us a chance to spend a couple of days being forced to watch a bunch of players we only know by name. And not just watch them in a regular “guys on the other team” way — no, we get to watch them chilling out, having fun, and often being surprisingly appealing. (See: Zdeno Chara last year.)

5. Players we do normally pay attention to doing well. When you spend the start of the season thinking the world needs to know that your favorite player is awesome, it’s nice to get some affirmation when said favorite player wins a plastic star for said awesomeness.

6. It doesn’t matter. We’re going to spend the next two and a half months watching stretch-run “every game is vitally important!” regular-season hockey, and then launch into the pressure cooker of the playoffs. It’s nice to have a weekend where we can sit back and relax.

7. The ridiculous player introductions. It’s not often we — fans who wax poetic about the lack of in-game entertainment at Continental Airlines Arena — are going to embrace laser lights and smoke machines. But when you pair them with a Mike Richards who looks like he’s going to die from embarrassment for how over-the-top the introduction is, we’re sold!

8. Cool superskills! Dude, the accuracy shooting is, like, the coolest thing we see all year. If they had accuracy shooting instead of penalty shots to decide OT winners, we probably wouldn’t hate the abolition of ties so much. What a wonderful world it would be if hockey games went to an accuracy shootout after five minutes of four-on-four OT…

9. Superskills down-time. Who doesn’t love seeing the guys sprawled out on the ice, waiting for their turn to do fastest skater or hardest shot? We get to see who forms cliques, who pays attention to the other events, and who pretends to have friends (Paul Kariya, we’re looking at you).

10. Foxy All-Star portraits. We’ve said it before and we’ll probably say it again — the portraits of the players in street clothes are a godsend. Every year we grouse that there aren’t enough hotties in the All-Star Game, then, come playoff time, we get a whole bunch of new playoff-only hockey boyfriends and Pookie decides to hone her mad reference-librarian skillz by researching them online. And lo and behold, every year, we discover our newfound dreamboat was at that year’s All-Star Game, we totally ignored him, but thanks to the portrait series, we have a treasure trove of pictures to use as our desktops on our computers at work. (And then, a few weeks later, when his team is eliminated from the playoffs and we go back to not liking him, then we’re all embarrassed to have that picture saved to our hard drives. But such is the circle of life when you’re cool like us.)

11. Mascot All-Star pictures. Every year finds a few photos interspersed in the Yahoo gallery of Foxy All-Star Portraits which show a giant mass of NHL mascots partaking of on-ice tomfoolery. Is it silly and stupid and should we be above it? Sure. Is it also totally awesome to see Youppi and Thunderbutt sharing the same ice surface? You bet it is!

12. It’s different. Look, we all know the All-Star Game isn’t going to be a classic game for the ages. It never has been and it never will be. But if you go in expecting just to see an assortment of great hockey players having fun in a low-key setting, interspersed with interviews and gushing sideline report stories about the participants, you’ll be duly entertained. It’s hockey, but it’s not. It’s a nice change of pace.

13. Saying, “There are the doors… There’s the seats…” as a guy starts racking up the points in the game.

14. Hoping this’ll be the year someone breaks the hardest shot record.

15. Watching the guys who think they can dog it on the puck-handling relay get burned by the guys who stay focused on the task at hand.

16. The passers on the accuracy shooting event. They’re a total afterthought, but without them, the sexiest superskill would be nothing. It’s fun to watch superstars like Sakic and Spezza sit back and enjoy a colleague getting to be in the spotlight, while they just go about their business of doing what they do best.

17. When offensive rushes break down during the game because the guys all try to be too fancy.

18. The plastic stars and uncool cars the MVPs win. We know they often give the cars away, but we love laughing at the end of every ASG about the unlucky recipient of the ugly car having to drive it for a year.

19. The red carpet. We owe Dallas big time for introducing the red carpet to the ASG festivities. It should be so wrong and so out of place but we can’t help but love getting the opportunity to fire up the TiVo of the pre-game stuff and then go all Go Fug Yourself on the NHL once a year.

20. “Mark Messier! FOUR FOR FOUR!” In Patty’s post she scoffs at sportswriters saying the ASG was better when they were kids because things are always better when you’re a kid. 1996 was the year we were essentially hockey kids, and the Superskills and ASG seemed impossibly awesome to us. And now we don’t want to be the people who whine that it was so much better then — we want to tune in every year hoping to see something that good again.

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Gah! Stupid Wednesday night games! We’ll be watching the Devils on tivo delay, and probably won’t have anything coherent to say when we finish it up at 1:30 in the morning. So,we hope you have a lovely evening of hockey, Gentle Reader, as we go under radio silence.

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We’ve discussed a few times this season how important having secondary teams is to us, and even though we’re enjoying the Devils and our secondary Tranny Brides quite a bit so far this season, it has recently seemed prudent to expand our horizons. After much deliberation, we tentatively decided to accept the Bruins as our Tranny Gentleman Callers, and despite the fact that they promptly suffered a rash of grievous injuries and started losing games left and right, we think they might stick. We watched yesterday’s Bruins/Blues game on tivo delay, and spent most of the time discussing the things we like enough about them to support a possible secondary-team relationship. Here, in no particular order, are some of our thoughts.

Lucic: The bomb.

Chara: The bomb.

Mark Stuart: Hott.

Kreijci: We love him. Schnookie had her reservations, because his name always seems to be spoken in Jack Edwards’s voice, but ultimately, our love is unconditional. Plus, it often sounds like his name is actually “Crunchy”, which means he probably grows his own loofahs.

Sobotka: CANS! We don’t know his number, don’t know whether he’s a forward or a defenseman, don’t know if he’s any good, and don’t know his first name. And we don’t want to know. But we love him, because CANS! (We figure since we’ve seen Season 2 of “The Wire”, we know what he looks like.)

Blake Wheeler: His name is the opposite of Jon Sim or Joffrey Lupul, in that he just sounds foxalicious and not at all annoying. He might very well be heinous and staggeringly annoying, but how would we ever know?

Tim Thomas: Look at that hobo! He’s killing a bar! With his bare hands! And… is that… is that… yoga???

Bitz: Dude. Just… Dude. His name is actually Bitz. His nickname is actually Bitzie. If he had a Tim Horton’s munchkin named after him it would be a Bitzbits. And if munchkins could produce their own smaller donut-holes, it would be a Bitziebitsie. Boston loves them some Dunkin Donuts, right? Get on that, Boston!

The Boston Arena: We went there once, a few years ago, to watch the Devils give up four goals to Marty Lapointe. Yeah, that Marty Lapointe. And yeah, those Devils. It was… awful. And we made merciless fun of Bruins fans for years afterward because of two things — one, they had this Smokey the Bear graphic on the jumbotron to whip the crowd into a frenzy, but his method of frenzy-whipping is to intone in a deep, inducing-a-cult-to-mass-suicide-or-human-sacrifice voice a dirge-like “Here we go Bruins, here we go”. And two, they are encouraged by the goal announements to cheer B’s goals with short, high-pitched, distinctly feminine “woo!”s. After a win, the fans slowly surge out of the arena, at a Smokey-approved pace, doing call and response “woo!”s. It’s really, really weird. But, now that we’ve got some time and space between us and those four Lapointe goals, it’s also kind of hilarious. *woo!*

NESN’s HD feed: This is what HD was invented for. Back when Jessica Fletcher mentioned HD being the future of TV on an episode of “Murder, She Wrote” (true story; we saw it with our own eyes), this was what she was talking about. We’ve seen a lot of team’s broadcasts, and we gotta say, there’s something about the overhead shot of the spoked-wheel on face-offs that makes our hockey-in-HD lovin’ hearts swoon. *swoon!*

Spokey The Bear: They almost named their mascot Spokey. We can love them now because we just pretend that’s what they actually decided to do.

Jack Edwards and Andy Brickley: You can’t fight City Hall.

Our Trip To Cambridge Six Years Ago: Back when we were living in Arizona, we launched ourselves on a trip back east to plan for sure that we wanted to move back to New Jersey. Along the way, we decided to stop in for a few days without pseudo-sister and beloved friend Jen, who lives in Cambridge. (It was on this trip that we caught the four Lapointe goals.) It was March, and the end of a hard New England winter; much to our delight, it snowed while we were there. Everyone else in the entire city was clearly pissed that it was snowing, but we’d spent the previous few years literally in the desert, and we were homesick for the east coast, and we were on vacation from our crappy, dead-end jobs, and we spent a day walking around Cambridge in a storybook-perfect snowfall just brimming with that feeling we like to call Newer, Better Life. It was one of those absolutely, completely, utterly perfect days, and after wandering in the snow, and stopping for hot cocoa at a coffee shop, and feeling like we were finally home after a long journey in foreign lands, we hunkered down in Jen’s cozy living room, watching a snowy evening fall. It doesn’t get better than that, and there’s something about watching Bruins games on NESN that makes us feel like that again.

They Have A Prospect Named Wacey Rabbit!: Need we say more? Cal Clutterbuck wishes his name was Wacey Rabbit! Wacey Rabbit, Wacey Rabbit, Wacey Rabbit — no matter how many times you say it, it sounds like the greatest name ever!

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Well, tonight’s the night we get our first look at Brendan Shanahan, New Jersey Devil 2.0. We are not thrilled. You know how every sports fan has that first experience where you discover the sad truth that pro sports is “just a business” and the players you cheer for don’t care about you or the team you love? Well, that moment for us was when Shanny stripped himself of the C and demanded a trade from the Whalers. The first hockey game we ever attended in person was Whalers/Islanders, in Hartford. We spent much of our first season as hockey fans watching the Whale on Center Ice, totally charmed by the Whaler unis, the Forslund/Reaugh broadcast tandem, and the personable, foxy young Shanny. Then we opened our second season as fans with a harsh dose of the reality of professional sports, and we have hated Shanahan ever since. We hated that he then had heaps of praise dumped on him for being such a valiant champion in Detroit and hated him triply when he became a high-profile Ranger. And now he’s essentially functioning as a rental player with the Devils, and to add insult to injury, it’s Pando who’s getting benched to make room for him. That’s right — Pando is being benched to make room for Brendan fucking Shanahan. It’s like some sort of sick joke; Pando’s being replaced by the Anti-Pando. No, Pando hasn’t done anything this season to justify leaving him in the lineup (that only makes this worse), but if Shanny thinks it’s going to be an easy way back into our hearts, he’s living in a dream world. Hell, if Lou thinks it’s going to be an easy way back into our hearts, he’s also living in a dream world. We are not happy. At all. And it’s not like there’s even some shred of “Well, at least he signed with the Devils of his own free will, so supposedly he wants to play for our beloved team” goodwill for him. No, the reason Shanny’s a Devil is because they’re the only team in the New York metropolitan area that would take him. So… yay?

FIRST PERIOD

19:35 Paulie tries to get our flagging spirits up by doing a sassy little spinarama Houdini move to keep the puck at the blue line. Pookie has a theory that the Pando-being-replaced by the Anti-Pando storyline is like something out of a bad superhero movie, but worries that Pando isn’t superhero enough to win out in the end. Schnookie suggests that the rest of the team will have to avenge him. After a few more nice keeps by Paulie and Travis, Pookie says, “Maybe they really are going to avenge him!”

18:26 We’re hoping it’s just our TV that’s so bright, because if the ice in Nashville actually does look like this, it’s a miracle the players can see anything.

16:18 We fail to notice that Shanny was on the ice. It must have been the blinding-bright ice, because it’s hard to miss a hulking slow guy with horse teeth wearing a Brylin sweater.

15:26 Pookie finally verbalizes what it is about the Holik and Shanahan signings we hate so much: “They’re turning the Devils into Old NHLer Island.” We thought we were rid of Old NHLer Island after the second year after the lockout. Guess we were wrong.

14:34 The Pando avenging isn’t going well. Rolston lazily hooks a Pred at the Jersey blue line and gets the Predators fans doing that cute “air quotes meet fangs” thing with their fingers to signify an impending Nashville power play.

10:05 We are totally distracted by the lighting from the ice here. Schnookie: “I can’t see the players. All I see are black shorts floating around out there.” Pookie: “All I see is a fuzzy white nimbus around the ice.” Pause. “And that fan blowing that whistle repeatedly isn’t helping. This game is like someone using a jackhammer outside my bedroom at 7:00 on a Saturday morning.”

9:02 Just after we get a close-up look at Shanahan before an offensive-zone draw, Holik takes a catastrophically idiotic penalty and we cut to a close-up of him shaking his head at the official. Pookie: “Ugh! That last 30 seconds was the most disgusting thing I’ve seen on television since Zednik got his throat cut.”

6:24 Rupp and Belak fight.

IPB Fight

Afterwards, they spend a ridiculously long time with Rupp down on the ice and Belak standing over him while two officials negotiate the process of the two letting go of each other’s sweaters. Pookie: “I have no problem with fighting in hockey, but I wish they could make a rule that guys have to let go of each other right away. We’re wasting 25 seconds here while they refuse to be the first one to let go. It’s a useless delay of the game.”

5:47 Clemmer stops a shot from a modestly bad angle, and the rebound gets away from him despite his posture of “I totally got that”. Schnookie: “That’s the second time I’ve noticed that he went to stop something looking all like he’s freezing the puck, and then all of a sudden the puck is in the corner.” Pookie: “He’d probably tell you it’s his superior acting skills, psyching out the opponent.”

3:17 After the Rupp/Belak fight, Chico mentioned that the game had “lots of energy”, thereby sending us off on a tangent about how the energy has been like surface-of-the-sun energy, retina-searing energy, blinding energy thanks to the brightness of the ice. That naturally led to a bunch of Pi jokes, about how we’d spend this game staring into the glare of the rink and then, at the end, we’ll know the total value of pi, but have to lobotomize ourselves with power drills. As the Devils work a not-tremendously-effective bit of cycling, Pookie sighs, “If you guys keep this up, by the end of this shift I’m going to know the total value of the angles in a triangle. Which isn’t very impressive, considering I know that already and I sucked at math.”

2:50 The annoying fan has not stopped; Pookie: “Dude, I am going to get in my car, drive down to Nashville, find that fan…” Pause. “And ask them politely to stop.”

0:00 We’re not going to lie – we didn’t pay very close attention to that period. Apparently shots were 14-8 Predators, and our vague sense of the game so far is that that sounds about right. Gel-O interviews Langer, and keeping with the mood, we don’t really pay attention.

FIRST INTERMISSION

Gel-O sits down with Zach to talk about the All-Star Game. He asks Zach what he took from the Young Stars game in Dallas, and we chorus, “A plastic star.”

SECOND PERIOD

19:44 Ah, the avenging begins now! Legwand takes a penalty to kick off the period.

19:41 Hamhuis wants to avenge Pando, too! He takes an interference penalty immediately off the face-off to start the Devils PP, and it’s two-man scorched-earth time. Do it for Pando, boys!

18:53 This power play is… not going well. Pookie: “I’m beginning to think triangles have angles that total 20 degrees.”

18:22 Wooo. The horse-toothed guy in the Brylin sweater scores, it’s 1-0 Devils, and yeah, we feel dirty. Pookie says of the replay, “It’s like the Predators are on the ice, the Devils are on the ice, and there’s Shanahan. And he’s just hanging out scoring goals for whichever team will pay him the most while being close to his kids’ school.” Yes, we’re glad the Devils have a goal, we’re glad they have a lead, if this is the final score we’ll be glad for the win, but we just can’t be happy about it right now. Especially considering the celebration on the bench is, as Pookie points out, on a Pandoless bench. Schnookie fights back tears. We’re not sure it counts as avenging Pando if it’s the Anti-Pando doing the scoring.

16:39 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Rollie carries the puck way up to the tippy top of the high slot, wheels around over it, cranks a giant slapper, and Clarkson is in front to tip it artfully into the net to make the game 2-0 Devils.

15:00 A bracket pops off the glass and we have a little delay, during which the camera pans back a bit at the Devils end… and we have a Frisby sighting! Hi Frisby!

13:30 The Devils are milling about the Nashville zone doing not much, and Pookie suddenly says, “Hey! I think someone is reading our diary – the ice is a lot less bright!” That would also explain why the Devils have scored in this period: they were finally able to stop trying to find the goal through their little solar eclipse goggles.

12:54 We get a long look at a dullardish Shanny on the bench.

shanny-on-bench

Schnookie: “It’s so good that they have that guy in the prison over his shoulder there. Because that’s Pando.”

12:15 Chico is talking about Sullivan and his Devils career, and he mentions that Sully got 13 goals with New Jersey. Pookie and Boomer both marvel that the total is so low, and they would both have thought he’d done much better than that. Schnookie, an absolute fount of sunshine and puppydogs this evening, grumbles, “Meh, he sucked.”

11:47 We have a Frank Doyle sighting! Or rather, mention. Doc tells us that our favorite hard-boiled private dick from the Devils system was an AHL All-Star Game MVP once.

9:50 Dear lord! We have a Jim McKenzie sighting! He’s in the crowd at this game with his disinterested-looking kids. His legacy as a Devil is summed up well by Pookie: “This may be revisionist history, but I think I liked him.”

7:29 Jim McKenzie’s legacy as a Devil is further summed up by Pookie: “You know, when they first showed Jimmy Mac in the crowd I thought, ‘Huh. Steve Kerr is here.’ And then Doc said, ‘Every Devils fan should recognize him!’ and I was like, ‘Really? Steve Kerr?’”

6:53 The Patty/Gio/Zubrus line does not score on a four-on-two, and then Sullivan doesn’t score on a one-on-Paulie the other way, in large part because of a sweeping defensive play. Schnookie: “Was that Paulie’s helicopter move?” Pookie: “That was his ‘helicopter hitting water’ move.”

5:30 Pookie discovers, thanks to TG, that Predators fans apparently blow whistles when Tootoo is on the ice. Get it? Tootoo/toot? Yeah. Schnookie: “Well, I guess you’re going to have to find lots of fans and politely ask them to stop.”

3:59 The ice is doing it again. Aiiieee! It burns! It burns! That, and 3.14159265… [/power drill]

2:50 Doc tells us the Devils are third in the league in road points. The two teams ahead of them are the Bruins and Red Wings. Considering that the Bruins and Red Wings have way more points overall than the Devils, we guess those two teams are, unlike the Devils, also capable of winning at home.

2:02 Pookie: “Tootoo fans, can you do that somewhere else?”

0:00 We paid more attention to that period and were, per the scoreboard, duly rewarded. But in our hearts, we’re still sad about half of it. Gel-O interviews Clarkson, but before he does, though, we get another “stats from Shanny’s interminably long career” screen that fails to mention that he was our inaugural Ring Whore.

SECOND INTERMISSION

Gel-O sits down with Weekesie and he is, per usual, the Anti-Clemmensen. (Read: we really like him.) He delightfully says of the road trip, “At home we all have commmitments, family and friends, and the days go by so quickly. But here, we just have each other.” Except for Pando. Pando has no one.

THIRD PERIOD

19:09 We shouldn’t laugh, but seriously, if you could pick one player to have had his new house burn down, Jason Arnott would be the one you’d pick, right? It is not even remotely surprising to hear that this happened to him – it’s the Arnott way. (That said, we are very glad to hear that no one was hurt.)

17:59 Pookie thinks the whistles for Tootoo are for how he always gets called for penalties. Schnookie stands by the “toot toot!” thing, though. Just in case you were wondering, Gentle Reader.

17:42 Chico tells us this arena holds great memories for Zach of getting drafted by the Devils. This sends us into paroxysms of laughter, as there is nothing in the world funnier than the sequence of pictures from the draft that show his little heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces with each pick that passes him by. Pookie: “He was totally cat-carrier Zach refusing to come into the building tonight. He was like, ‘I say, I won’t go in there! You can’t make me go in there! No, wait, I was happy to be picked 17th. That’s totally what I wanted.’”

16:40 Paulie has yet another smooth, deft, sassy defensive play that prompts Pookie to say, “Paulie’s like really high-quality vanilla ice cream. In that he’s easy to ignore, but when you do notice him, he’s awesome.”

15:46 Applesauce pulls Legwand’s foot out from under him while he’s cutting a corner, and goes to the box. Meanwhile, Pookie is still worrying about something Chico said during play earlier: “Did he say ‘Che Weber’? Should I be worried that he’s going to lead an uprising of the BoxPanners against me?”

15:11 Travis gets a long shorthanded quasi-break up the wing, but isn’t able to cut around the goalie while the Predator backchecker gets back into the play. We take his not being able to finish as a shout-out to Pando. Which is fitting, considering TravisNation is a rogue state being formed by the corrupt ruling priest class in the Western Territories of PandoNation on the emperor-god’s land grants.

13:54 Whitey deflects in incoming slapshot up into his own face, and skates quickly off the ice, spitting copious quantities of blood.

13:21 Boomer, whose given name is Karen (she doesn’t even go by that in real life), has recently started reading the news on AudioVision, a radio broadcast for the New Jersey Library for the Blind. She was told to go by whatever name she wanted on air, so she chose “Karen Mott”, in honor of her Devils husband Applesauce. So when Applesauce gets back in the play after getting out of the box and breaks up the Preds attack, Pookie exclaims, “Great play by Mr. Karen Mott!”

12:07 Tootoo gets called for high sticking, and there isn’t a sizable uptick of whistles from the crowd, suggesting it’s a “toot toot” thing and not a penalty thing.

11:35 That power play didn’t last long, thanks to Captain Eh, Fuck This, who gets called for interference. There is much confusion on the call, and we get a long look at Paulie standing next to an official at center ice and gesticulating in bafflement. It looks like he’s thinking, “Vanilla ice cream? That sounds spicy.”

8:02 Zach yoinks a puck away from a Pred defender, then, with his motor going a million miles an hour, rips a shot past Rinne that clangs off the crossbar. He’s never going to score again.

6:32 Clarkson scoops the puck directly over the glass, then tries to argue that he shouldn’t really get a penalty for it. The officials have a little conclave that Rollie tries to crash, but to no avail. Predators power play.

5:48 The Predators finally break through, ending the Devils’ perfect PK string for this road trip. We see a fallen d-man in front of the net, and Pookie wails, “Oh no! Is Mottau hurt?” Schnookie: “Mr. Karen Mott!” Boomer: “He needs to get up – the visually-impaired seniors in New Jersey are counting on him for their news.” Replay shows it’s actually the Iron Boar going down, having taken a point shot in his Iron Bits. Chico tells us after the replay, “A timeout is being called by…” and he pauses while trying to figure out who called it. Pookie concludes for him, “Bryce Salvador.” It’s 2-1 Devils.

4:41 The Devils respond to the goal with a mightily furious offensive-zone shift, but manage pretty much just one little chip shot on goal.

4:36 The Predators goal is credited to Radek Bonk. Surely he died in Vegas?

3:14 If the Preds are having attendance problems, it might be because of all those whistles. Seriously. They should look into that.

1:56 What is fucking happening to our team? Who are these guys in Devils sweaters? A Predator winds up to fire a shot from the center of the blue line, and not one but two Devils topple over to leave their feet to attempt to block it. Needless to say, neither stops the incoming shot, and all kinds of chaos ensues because no one’s in position anymore because they’re all splayed out up near the blue line. GAH! Stop doing that! (Replay shows one of them was Shanahan. No fucking kidding. This isn’t the Rangers anymore, Horse Teeth. Stay on your feet. Pando never leaves his feet. Pando’s a hero. Waaaah!)

0:13 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! What the hell is that? The Devils win a defensive zone draw, then Patty feeds the puck to Zach on their way out of the zone, and Zach scores. Into an empty net. An empty net goal! We never thought we’d see the day. 3-1 Devils.

0:00 WOOOOOO! The Devils win, and, as ridiculous as it sounds, they are in first place in the Atlantic Division. That seems sort of bizarre, all things considered.

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Just to be clear — the Penguins have recently implemented a Defensive Scheme. It is the key to their success in the last few games. It will stymie even the highest of high-flying opponents. It is the same Defensive Scheme that was put in place by Mario Lemieux himself during their ’92 Cup run. It is the same Defensive Scheme that was played by such valiant, sexy Cup champions as the ’67 Leafs and the Canadiens in the ’50s. The Canadiens called it a “center lock”. It is not at all like what the Devils were doing in the ’90s. What the Devils did in the ’90s is Trapping. The Trap killed hockey, and the Penguins are just Defensively Scheming. Don’t get the two confused, lest you sound like an ignorant slut.

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PREGAME

Mood: Blissed out. We’ve spent the previous two Martin Luther King weekends traveling for family reasons, and while we always like to visit family members, we also really like being home. So this year we’re not going anywhere for the weekend, and as a result managed not to be flying out of Philly on the same day Obama was flying in, and have been all cozy and warm in the embrace of the halls of stately IPB Manor on the coldest days in New Jersey in over four years, and also have not crashed into and frigid rivers. We’re not going to lie — the Devils haven’t really crossed our minds at all yet today.

Favorite Devil: Travis. We like to try to point to one single player as the straw that stirs the drink for the Devils, and while we believed it was Zubrus for a while back there when the team was scoring a lot, now we’re starting to think it’s Travis. When he’s skating like a sluggardly lagabed, the rest of the team does the same. And when he’s doing his best motoring-around-the-ice Zach impersonation, the team wins. In Columbus, he did the latter, and gave the rest of his teammates the slap in the face they all needed after two craptacular periods, and as a result they snatched victory from the sleepily-yawning jaws of defeat. Plus, he’s looked really cute in the postgame interviews and in all those curling stories this week.

Least Favorite Devil: Well, it’s not a Devil, per se, but whoever at the MSG Network decided the Islanders fans get an HD feed tonight and we don’t. Fuck you, MSG Network.

Prediction: The Devils have lately developed a taste for somnambulation. The Islanders are, well, the Islanders. This should be like watching chessmen watch paint dry.

Photograph From The Year Brendan Shanahan Was Drafted That Represents Our Feelings For This Game: A racecar.

race-car

We’re rarin’ to go, but we don’t know where we’ll end up. Nor do we think we’re going to get there very fast.

AFTER THE FIRST PERIOD

Mood: Acorntastic! WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Travis was such a dreamboat that we feel like it’s 65-0, even though you’d think it’s only 1-0 Devils if you looked at the scoreboard.

Favorite Devil: A foolish consistency might be the hobgoblin of little minds, but a Travisy consistency is the hobgoblin of lovestruck Devils fan minds. A shorty and a second shorthanded breakaway? Travis, what are you trying to do to us? We were swooning already before the game.

Least Favorite Devil: Still not a Devil, per se, but whoever at MSG Network decided we’d rather watch Jimmy and Stan talking about Pando losing his job to Shanahan than the pregame ceremony for Butthead. Fuck you, MSG.

Prediction: At least four more shorthanded goals from Travis.

Photograph From The Year Brendan Shanahan Was Drafted That Represents Our Feelings For This Game: Mustachioed Pilot

skys-the-limit

The sky’s the limit for our love of Travis!

AFTER THE SECOND PERIOD

Mood: Delighted, and a little drunk. Yay for wine and 3-0 leads (the first is responsible for the former, and the second the latter)!

Favorite Devil: What the hell? Travis! Now and forever! In fact, we’re going to pretend he scored Clarkson’s and Zach’s goals, too. All of them. For the whole season.

Least Favorite Devil: We love each and every one of them, although they all pale in comparison to a certain someone. Except for Holik and Clemmer. And Shanahan. Ugh. There goes our buzz.

Prediction: A wild, goal-scoring rampage by the one and only Travis. He’s going to wreak a swath of destruction the likes of which the Islanders have never seen! That, or the Devils will cough up two quick goals and we’ll spend the remainder of the third period waiting for Clemmer to give up the inevitable game-tying goal in the final five seconds.

Photograph From The Year Brendan Shanahan Was Drafted That Represents Our Feelings For This Game: A mighty steam locomotive!

Train

This is what opposing goalies see when Travis is bearing down on them. He might not be the Iron Boar, but he is the Iron Horse. And Shanny still isn’t sure he can trust that newfangled steam technology.

AFTER THE THIRD PERIOD

Mood: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We’re feeling blissed out and like the Devils just won. Life is grand!

Favorite Devil: The Devils are like beautiful snowflakes, and we love each one uniquely. The most beautiful one, though remains Travis. He’s the snowflake that stirs the drink.

Least Favorite Devil: That horse-toothed chemistry-destroyer looming on the horizon. (Oh, sure, we might end up eating those words. But we highly doubt it.)

Game Summary: Last year the Devils were catastrophically awful against every team with “New York” in their name, and while we have nothing to say about that one whose name also rhymes with “Blangers”, we would love to spend the rest of this season playing exclusively the Islanders. This year’s Devils might have trouble against teams like the Thrashers, but when facing an Islanders team that’s quite probably tanking for Tavares and feeling dispirited by the talk of relocation, they manage to beat an opponent they should be beating. That’s a refreshing change!

Photograph From The Year Brendan Shanahan Was Drafted That Represents Our Feelings For This Game: A Giant Parade!

celebration

All those horses have been trained to say “WOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

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Please join us for an open thread for the last Devils game of the Pre-Shanny’s-Return Era.

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