Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Except for being massively attractive, rich, and elegant, we beer league goalie know how you feel there, Henrik.

I’m getting my goalie mask painted soon, and for a beer league goalie, that’s a pretty big deal.

Unlike pro players, you generally only get one or two shots at making your paint special because it may be the only paint job you ever get. Not because it’s crazy expensive, but it isn’t cheap either, and it’s absolutely the least necessary thing you could ever pay for in terms of goalie gear.

But because of the anonymity of the position (guys I’ve played with for 2 years, and who get an email every game day saying who’s in net, still call me “goalie”), your gear is your identification, your mask paint especially.

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I don’t like the Canadiens. More specifically, I don’t like their fans. (Not YOU of course. You’re awesome.) So, that’s where we’re starting from.

I do like goalies, however, and Carey Price is one of those, so he slips through the insidious cracks of “typical Montreal” obnoxiousness.

Still, his affiliation with a team I dislike has kept him at arm’s length, meaning I’ve watched his career somewhat clinically, more as a student of the position.

And few players provide such an interesting study in the mental challenges of pro hockey – in balancing swagger and ego with professionalism.

So, as we sit here on the cusp of Price’s third NHL All-Star Game, I thought it would be fun to look back at his roller coaster of a career that’s gone from Jesus Price to trade bait back to All-Star again.

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Owning a hockey team is SUPER FUN, right, Chuck?... Right?... Chuck?...

About once a week, I think, “Gosh, wouldn’t it be great to have a job in hockey so I could get paid to obsess over hockey?”

But then I remember the egos in sports management, the low pay because profit margins are thin, and the long hours for that low pay, etc. etc.

At which point I realize the gig I really want is just being rich and OWNING a team. Brilliant!

Now, I haven’t figured out the being rich part because, well, I’m a writer . So, my only option is to start playing the lottery, which I’m going to start doing right away, because – you guys – the Wheeling Nailers are for sale!

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The most unflattering picture of Marty Havlat I could find.

Fandom is a tricky subject. Everybody has their own way of being a fan, their definition of “real fan,” their guiding principles, and their easily-pushed buttons (good and bad).

Your relationship to sports is as unique as your fingerprint. Sure, I find plenty of gals who also have an extra special thing for goalies, but I can’t find one who agrees on WHICH goalies. For instance, how many of you have a 20×30 poster of Barry Brust over your desk?

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John Vanbiesbrouck joined us at the Winter Classic for our latest episode of Face Paint (fun fact: he’s one of two NHLers in the history of the League to have every vowel in his last name, along with fellow Ranger Reijo Ruotsalainen).

Check out why the Beezer chose to wear the helmet he did:

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"I'm hurt and they're throwing bras?" "It's not you, Marty. it's me."

It’s happened over and over in my years of watching hockey: One of my players goes down injured, my heart races, panic creeps in, and I fire laser beams of righteous indignation at the opponent who caused it, while fighting back that “what if it’s really serious?” lump in my throat.

Meanwhile, the team’s athletic trainer calmly, carefully traverses the ice, sometimes grasping the arm of a player with his latex-gloved hand to get to his patient as quickly as possible. (Bonus: This distracts me from my worries for a few seconds, pondering the pleasures of gripping that player’s strong, steady arms. *swoon*)

When they do get there, kneeling on the ice, arm around their charge, assessing the damage and reassuring the injured player, I am so grateful for their calm presence that I can’t help but love them for taking care of “my boys.”

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You are ridiculous, Brian Boyle.

So, I’m watching 24/7 on Wednesday, reveling in all the hockey goodness and enjoying the crap out of it. And by the end, I come away with one overriding feeling:

Oh my God, the Rangers HAVE to be the most attractive team in the league.

But because we’re not just winging it here at Backhand Shelf — because we have integrity and we like to put numbers and facts behind our work — I knew I couldn’t just assume the Rangers were the most attractive team in the league.

I had to make up numbers to support my theory.

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All Zack Stortini wants for Christmas is his two front teeth.

What I love most about Christmas is that Canadians and Americans celebrate it on the same day, so none of this  “Merry American Christmas!” nonsense like we have to do with Thanksgiving.

So, that said, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate.

I hope the Jolly Fat Man brought you whatever you wished for and ate the cookies you left out for him. Otherwise, the Canucks flew him to your house for nothing! (Kyle Wellwood jokes are the gift that keep on giving.)

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