Yes, fair readers, I know it's been a while since I've posted here and that surely you're all very upset at me for it. I apologize. It's been a busy week you see. A number of important and wild, crazy things have happened, such as the Knicks losing not one, but two soul-crushing playoff games in their first postseason appearance in seven years, some wild comebacks in the opening round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, and the NFL's 2011 schedule release, an event that has left me wondering if my two designated road games this season will actually be feasible given that they're in back-to-back weeks.
But friends, I come here to talk about none of those right now. Because those are good things. Fun things. And what I have to tell you is not fun at all.
I'm going to my first Mets game of the season tonight. It won't be pretty.
See, I've had several seasons when the Mets fell into mediocrity -- and did so early -- but it's rare that I've been living in the New York metropolitan area and seen them fall so quickly that I haven't even gotten out to a game yet. And fallen they have. After losing two straight to the Astros, the Amazins and their sparkling 5-13 record are at the very bottom of the Major Leagues, meaning that unlike last year's team, which simply plodded its way through injuries to a mediocre 79-83 record, this year's squad, with mostly the same roster, is downright awful.
The team is so bad that New York Daily News beatwriter Andy Martino actually got away with two of the more scathing -- and at the same time brilliant -- game stories I've ever seen, capturing not just the Mets awfulness, but the ambivalence of the fans that are currently watching. I'm generally disinclined against Martino since he grew up a Braves fan, but he does a masterful job of tiptoeing the line between truth and bitter sarcasm that apparently has eluded other writers in recent days.
And he hits the nail right on the head. This team is bad. Really. They're not good. We know it. They know it. And yet here I am ready to pull up stakes around 6:00 pm tonight and ride the 7 train to Citi Field for what is sure to be the first of several times this year. The positive to all of this is that when you know the team is bad you can at least laugh at it to make the pain dull itself. Also those $6.50 bags of fresh Kettle Corn they have at Citi Field are a tremendous deal. Seriously. They're enormous.
So yeah, I've got that going for me tonight as I start my weekend, but on the plus side the Stanley Cup playoffs have been so good that I'm almost able to forget about how bad the Mets have been. I'm not sure how many of you have been watching, or keeping up with the very exciting awardsannouncements, European hockey news or top playoff performers, but it's all been pretty sweet -- in particularly Tuesday night's utterly wild Game 3 between San Jose and L.A. that saw the Sharks rally from a four-goal deficit to win in overtime.
And last night's double-OT games between Washington and New York and Pittsburgh and Tampa Bay weren't bad either. All in all the hockey playoffs are shaping up to be pretty tremendous so far, which is good because they might be the only distraction I have to keep me from watching baseball other than planning out my potential European vacation this summer or my two Giants road games I have planned.
If you're curious I'm looking to hit up New England on Nov. 6 and San Francisco a week later.
So hockey is what I will rely on for now, and the great thing about that is that they last for six more weeks. The only downside?
If being a Mets fan has made anything clear it's that I, apparently, have an insatiable lust for pain. Yesterday I realized that hadn't changed when I got an e-mail from the team offering five-game flex ticket packs for the upcoming season. Typically, I ignore these e-mails because the tickets are too damn expensive, but I was blinded by a huge segment of block text said "NO ORDERING FEES".
You know those things: the transaction fees that enable teams to needlessly add five bucks onto every ticket, but in actuality are complete nonsense.
So I, foolishly assuming I was about to get a deal, promptly bought a Mets flex package for this season, a season that is sure to be disappointing just like they all are. For any evidence of that, look no further than yesterday's spring training opener against Atlanta that ended in a 5-5 tie.
Yes, a tie. In baseball.
Sister kissing is an unusual phenomenon in this sport, which, as we've seen, could theoretically go on forever in a regular season game, but in the spring training no one really has the patience, which means when a game is tied after nine innings, the managers debate whether or not they really care to bake out in the sun much longer. In this case, Terry Collins and Fredi Gonzalez decided that 10 innings would be enough, and it seemed like it would be for Atlanta after they took a 5-3 lead in the top of the inning. Of course, then former-Met killer Willie Harris, who was signed this offseason with the apparent idea of "even if he sucks he won't kill us anymore", smacked a two-run homer to tie the game in the bottom of the 10th, and that was how it would stand. Were it not for my discovery that my supermarket now sells Sunset Wheat, this would have been the highlight of my week.
Considering that this was the second rally by the Mets to tie the game I'm pretty sure Saturday's tie marks the high point of New York's 2011 season. It's all downhill from here.
And when it goes downhill, I'll be there to watch six times. I made a point to pick games in my plan, since it gives you the option of choosing, that were generally in the first half of the season so that my delusions of the Mets still having a chance wouldn't have been shattered yet. Highlights include the Subway Series opener the first weekend of July, a meeting with the defending-champion Giants and Ike Davis bobblehead day on July 19th against St. Louis.
Now comes the hard part. Finding six people dumb enough to go to each game with me.
In other news, some of you might have noticed that the Oscars are tonight and I, something of an Oscar junkie as you can see from some of my zanier columns in the past, am as excited as always even though I somehow managed not to see half the Best Picture nominees this year. I bring this up because I came across a rather startling discovery this afternoon involving one of my favorite films of all time, L.A. Confidential. For those of you who have seen L.A. Confidential you know that it is, well, incredible in every way. As such, it is a constant reminder to me that the Oscars are total bunk since L.A. Confidential lost Best Picture in 1997 to some boat movie.
Either way, what I did not realize is that one of the stars of the film, Guy Pearce, who so deftly pulled off a turn as the film's protagonist Lieutenant Edmund Exley, is also a tremendous sports fan. This I should have assumed because he's also Australian and Australians love their sports. And most importantly, they love their footy.
And Guy Pearce loves his footy.
But almost more important than the fact that Guy Pearce loves his footy is that he loves one footy team in particular. And it's the right one. I was entirely unaware that Pearce grew up on his mother's deer farm in Geelong, where he endured a rough 40 years of his life before he finally saw the Cats get their first championship since four years before he was born. As far as Geelong fans go, apparently Pearce is one of the more famous ones, something that the club has noted on its own website for no apparent reason other than to say "We have a celebrity that roots for us."
In any event, it's nice to know that the main man of one of my favorite films shares a bizarre team in kind with me. Unfortunately, Pearce isn't up for any Oscars tonight, nor did L.A. Confidential take home the big prize 14 years ago, but the 2007 and 2009 Grand Final victories are far more meaningful anyway.
Besides, it could be worse. He could have been duped into buying Mets tickets.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, this weekend I will be making my first visit to Chicago in more than three years, which, to put it mildly, is far too long. New York is my home and the greatest city in the world, but my four years in Evanston, Illinois and in close proximity of the City of Broad Shoulders will always give Chicago a fond place in my heart. This week it will likely cost me the chance to see most of this weekend's NFL action -- though don't worry, my flight lands in time for me to comfortable catch kickoff of Giants-Eagles --but it's a worthwhile endeavor.
And why, you ask?
Well, as you can see the marquee on Chicago's Wrigley Field was painstakingly painted Northwestern Purple for this Saturday's Northwestern-Illinois game, which will be the first college football game played in the friendly confines in more than 70 years. Squeezing a regulation football field inside has proved something of a challenge, and in some cases, like the distance from the end of the east end zone to the right field bleachers, it is almost laughable as to how tight the game will be played. Since the last college and professional football games were played in Wrigley club seats have been added to the field level which have squeezed the area a bit. The orientation Northwestern seems to be going with is a bit odd considering that the field ran north to south when the Bears played in Wrigley, rather than west to east. Looking at artists' renditions, however, it seems clear officials anticipated this considering they didn't bother drawing uprights in the east end zone in their early depictions.
Either way, the field is finally starting to come into shape and I can't help but be outlandishly excited about it. Or at least buy all the crap merchandise that's being churned out for the occasion. Personally, I opted not for the ephemeral, but for the eminently reusable Northwestern football jersey. I chose Dan Persa even though I know he will be out with a torn achilles after spearheading last week's stunning upset of No. 13 Iowa, but he'll be back in full force next season to lead NU to its inevitable 2011 BCS National Championship. It's totally gonna happen. Just wait for it.
All around the excitement seems to be building. Northwestern head coach Pat Fitzgerald, a uniquely social-media savvy leader, has been tweeting pictures of the field, Northwestern's practices there, and the cramped locker room as the game reaches kickoff. A plan to have the players ride the Chicago El from Evanston to the Addison stop on the Red Line has been nixed unfortunately, but the blow of losing that novelty has been softened by the presence of a much bigger one. ESPN Game Day has been rumored to be coming to Northwestern several times in the past few years, but each time was just that. A rumor.
This weekend, ESPN just couldn't help itself with the prospect of having that Wrigley Field marquee in the background of its shots for four hours, however, so at long last Game Day is here. I won't be joining the legions of students that are busing down from campus at 4 a.m., but I will be making my way there sometime in the morning to scope out the scene and pretend I'm in college again. After that, Northwestern has set up several areas to tailgate with fellow alumni or buy food around Wrigley, and I will be checking out the whole place.
Hopefully I will be sober and energized enough by the time kickoff comes around at 2:30 p.m. CT that I'm not completely out of it, but something tells me the opportunity to be a part of a once in a lifetime event like this will make it easy to keep myself alert. I've been tremendously excited about this game for months since it became official. And as the clock finally starts to wind down before my 9 a.m. flight to O'Hare tomorrow, I can hardly contain the excitement of a purple-drenched football weekend in Chicago with a host of college friends who live there or are flocking in to town. It's almost enough to forget that there are professional games the next day.
Almost.
And with that, here are this week's almost certain to be incorrect picks. On a side note, if some of you are wondering why I haven't mentioned the Giants' loss to Dallas last week, it's because I've convinced myself it didn't happen. On with the show.
Last week: 5-9-0 Season: 68-68-8
Chicago (+1) over MIAMI NY Giants (+2.5) over PHILADELPHIA Buffalo (+6) over CINCINNATI DALLAS (-7) over Detroit TENNESSEE (-7) over Washington KANSAS CITY (-8) over Arizona Green Bay (-3) over MINNESOTA NY JETS (-7) over Houston PITTSBURGH (-8) over Oakland Baltimore (-10) over CAROLINA JACKSONVILLE (-2) over Cleveland ST. LOUIS (+3) over Atlanta NEW ORLEANS (-12) over Seattle Tampa Bay (+3) over SAN FRANCISCO NEW ENGLAND (-3) over Indianapolis SAN DIEGO (-10) over Denver
There you have it. Enjoy the games. I'm off to college.
As you've all no-doubt noticed, hockey season is underway, and that means any of you who see me socially will probably seeing a lot less of me because I'll be busy churning out exciting stories like this one. I hope you're able to handle it. One of those days in which I will not be in the office, however, is tonight, and I am celebrating the occasion in the only way I possibly know how.
I'm going to a hockey game.
Yes, it seems like an odd choice, but I do enjoy seeing them in person once in a while, particularly since my Devils actually got off the shnide and won a game on Wednesday. Hopefully that'll be the release that gets the team moving, and I suppose I'll be finding out tonight when I take my mother to see the glory that is the Prudential Center. Tonight's foe will be the Colorado Avalanche, which almost certainly will stir up angry memories in me of the 2001 Stanley Cup Finals, but what can you do? More than anything, I'm just happy to get out to my first hockey game of the year, even if it isn't a new or exciting arena.
Sometimes you go with what you're comfortable with. I'll get to those new buildings eventually.
Now, I know going to this game will cause me to miss the first half of Game One of the ALCS, but I'm prepared to except this eventuality as the cost of seeing one team I care about immeasurably as opposed to two teams I'm highly ambivalent about. Besides, I'll still catch the back end of it, and while I'll be watching both the ALCS and the NLCS, where the Giants will be taking on the Fighting Satans, most of the next 48 hours really just involve counting down the minutes until I get to watch football.
Don't worry, though. When rooting for the San Francisco Gigantes, I will have the best charm anyone could need at my side courtesy of one Stephanie Bowen.
As for football, and those other Giants -- you know, my Giants -- I'm reaching the point where one needs to both be excited and yet temper their expectations. They've looked good the past two weeks and last Sunday's solid whipping of the highly touted Texans has got people talking about that No. 1-ranked defense. I enjoy the good feelings, but maybe they're talking a little too much. Don't get me wrong. I like how Big Blue is playing and a strong defense is the backbone of nearly any championship team, but when even Adam Schefter is talking about the Super Bowl potential of New York's defense, the idea is clearly no longer held to just the minds of irrational and hyper excessive fans.
But I get antsy.
So, in the interests of my own sanity, can we wait until we're past, you know, Week Six of a 17-week season before we start bouncing around all the Super Bowl talk? Pretty please? My anxiety issues depend on us all consuming a dose of reality until at least Thanksgiving. Then maybe we'll chat, but until then, lets keeping assuming the Giants are underdogs.
And speaking of underdogs, let's do some picking. Last Week: 8-6-0 Season: 36-36-4 (Back to .500!)
NY GIANTS (-10) over Detroit CHICAGO (-7) over Seattle GREEN BAY (even) over Miami San Diego (-9) over ST. LOUIS Baltimore (+3) over NEW ENGLAND Atlanta (+3) over PHILADELPHIA PITTSBURGH (-14) over Cleveland New Orleans (-5) over TAMPA BAY HOUSTON (-5) over Kansas City NY Jets (-3) over DENVER Oakland (+7) over SAN FRANCISCO MINNESOTA (-2) over Dallas Indianapolis (-4) over WASHINGTON Tennessee (-3) over JACKSONVILLE
Alright, I'm spent, kids. And off to the hockey game. Have a good weekend, everybody.
Some of you might have noticed that my updates have been somewhat sparse lately, and I will plead your forgiveness by offering a few reasons why. You see, the month of August 2010 has been particularly busy for me, with work, weddings and travel galore. Also, the downtrodden Mets have left me with little to be excited about in sports beyond the start of Southampton's League One season and the run up to the Aussie Rules Football Finals, which Geelong should figure to impact rather heavily.
In any event, I will come clean and tell you all why this month has been so busy, and essentially, I will revolve it around my zany trip to San Diego to see the annual Comic-Con, and a trip I made two weeks ago to see my friends Dave and Caitlin tie the knot in Portland, Oregon. This would be the same Dave with whom I saw that magic moment for Ken Griffey Jr. last June. In between all of those events I've been juggling a typical work schedule, the precipitous downfall of my Mets, the impending start of the season for my Giants, the fact that Ilya Kovalchuk somehow still isn't under a contract that passes muster and my brother's impending nuptials this Sunday.
See how I slipped that in there? Eh? Eh?
That, my friends, is what we call burying the lead. Burying it after the jump is equally as bad, but you've got to entice the reader to keep on reading no?
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Elliott, Emmy-winning comedy writer, terrible movie enthusiast and newly minted comic book author, is getting hitched to his fiancee Danielle this Sunday in Sonoma, California, which means, I have to book it to the airport tomorrow morning for a flight to San Francisco that will mark my third trip across the country in five weeks.
Yep. That's right. The third time in five weeks.
Fortunately, this is no longer the era of covered wagons like you see to the left here, so my accommodations -- the newfangled "airplane" -- will get me to San Francisco in at least half the time.
Now, surely none of you really care all that much about my travel plans to my brother's wedding, beyond offerings of congratulations and curiosity over just how big a disaster my best man speech is going to be, but here's why it matters for this space. There will be baseball. West Coast Baseball. The Mets would not exist were it not for the California-bound relocation of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers half a century ago, and because the actual Mets are, well, terrible right now, I will instead scope out the forbears of my favorite team who are much better than terrible and actually even in contention for what they call "a playoff berth".
We Mets fans may be unfamiliar with that concept these days, but I assure all of you, it actually exists.
And so, because I will be on the left coast, my sister, I, and a few assorted others will be attending this Monday's Giants-Rockies game at AT&T Park, and while this will not be a new experience for me -- I've been there twice -- it just may be my favorite. Two days later, if we can wake ourselves early enough to make the drive from San Luis Obispo, we will be in Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles to, at long last, knock the second oldest park in the National League off of my list. I'm awfully excited about the prospect.
Oh yeah. And my brother's getting married. That's pretty exciting, too. One of my best friends in college, Luisa Badaracco of my venture to Fenway and TD Garden fame, was at her sister's wedding three years ago when Clay Buchholz threw a no-hitter in his second career start for her Boston Red Sox. Will history repeat itself for my brother Sunday as the historically pitching-rich Mets finally get their first no-no? Well, the odds are a little slim, though this isn't the most unlikely thing I've banked on -- in High School I once told a teacher I'd have to miss a club meeting because I had Mets tickets and I liked their chances for a Perfect Game against the hapless Orioles. The Mets probable starter is R.A. Dickey, who already has a one-hitter under his belt in a surprising knuckleballing season that has him stunningly in the top ten of the NL's ERA chase. His foe -- the equally as hapless Houston Astros in the pitcher's haven of Citi Field.
The stars are aligned. You can pretty much take it to the bank.
On one last note, it was revealed this week whom the Mets will be visiting in 2011 for interleague play, which is always of great interest to me as I look to strike down stadiums on my quest. Despite much hub-bub that the Amazins would be visiting Minnesota's new Target Field, they will in fact be visiting Rangers Ballpark at Arlington and Comerica Park in Detroit. While I have already been to Comerica Park, the Texas Rangers are new on the list. Who's up for a road trip?
And that's all the news that's fit to print and a whole lot more that isn't in these parts. California beckons tomorrow, again, and the Kalan family will be changed forever. If I can keep my eyes open after crisscrossing the U.S. one last time this month, I'll be sure to tell you all about it next week.
Ok, let's be honest here. No one actually wants a championship ring so they can wear it. They're gaudy, heavy clunky things that attract way more attention than most people are comfortable with in their private lives and not always the good kind.
Who wouldn't want a championship ring of some sort, really? They're fun to show off and a sense of great pride if acquired through an actual accomplishment even if it spends all of its time in your safety deposit box. Of course some people just want them because of their value and will acquire them through whatever means they wish, which is surprisingly easy if you've got a big bank account.
So I hear the questions. "Dave, why are you talking about this? You're never going to get a championship ring for yourself. You're just a wee wannabe sportswriter." True, this statement may be, but working for a team professionally has been a thought in the back of my mind from time to time, and regardless, having a championship ring of any sort would be pretty sweet, even if I had to keep it locked up at all times. A burden, sure, but one I'd love to have even if it were just for bragging rights, but either way, it's never been a prospect I've thought I'd have a real shot at or seriously entertained.
Those Chicago Blackhawks were quite a fun team to watch this year, but as I've pointed out on more than one occasion, I was rather excited to see them win the whole shabang even if they weren't the New Jersey Devils. Ever since I worked as an intern for the Blackhawks during my senior year of college four years ago, I have had a soft spot in my heart for the Hawks, both as someone who has seen the inner workings of a professional sports franchise and as someone who still has friends in the organization. It is disconcerting to see that they still lost money this season despite partying with Stanley, but that is likely a remnant of the antiquated business practices of former owner Bill Wirtz, who famously refused to broadcast home games on TV. The team should turn a profit this coming season and be well on its way.
I was more struck by this part of the article, however:
"There's definitely no penny-pinching going on. Among those set to receive Stanley Cup rings next season include the team's interns."
They're giving rings to everyone. They're giving rings to interns. It's hard to play the what-if game here, but I think you all can see what I'm getting at here, which, essentially, is that, if I were four years younger, I would be getting some new hardware this summer.
I would have a Stanley Cup championship ring.
This is, of course, a very silly and abstract argument to make since being four years younger likely would have led me on an entirely different path through my life. That is probably pretty clear. Moreover, considering that Chicago finished last in its division the year I worked there, a title was hardly a plausible idea at the time. But it's still fun to dream and in my mind, I apparently came oh so close to bragging to all of my friends over a dramatically undeserved piece of jewelry.
So close, and yet so far away.
There is some better news however, which is that the tickets to my next planned venture have arrived. Now, it won't be the next unusual stadium I make my way to. My sister and I will likely be at the Giants-Rockies game in San Francisco on August 30th and there is a very slim chance that I might get to knock Dodger Stadium off the list on September 1st to make up for last week's near miss after my sister and I drive down the California coast.
But barring that, my next big trip will be to Indianapolis to see the quadrennial Manning Bowl with Dov Turner. The Giants visit the Colts once every eight years and with the next time coming on September 19, I will be there in the very last row of Lucas Oil Stadium to watch Big Blue spoil the AFC Champions' home opener after some banner raising fanfare.
Excited? You bet. I'll be sure to post a story once the trip is complete and with the Mets being a completely unmitigated disaster these days, I was happy to receive something to take my mind off the pain.
It may not be a Stanley Cup Championship ring, but today it will have to do.
It's been a crazy couple of days here and so while I'm distracted by the Mets absolutely killing it out of the All-Star Break -- and by "killing it" I mean "killing their season" -- I'm still going to get you a few piece of valuable information. Once you're done reading about the Devils re-signing massive free agent Ilya Kovalchuk, a move that very well might define the franchise for 20 years -- and save all of us from a long process of LeBron-like proportions -- after they shocked most of the hockey world by acquiring him via trade in February.
No matter. I have more important information afoot.
First of all, when I first started writing a book about my adventures where I went from one place to the next seeing ports arenas, I began scribbling about them in April of 2009. At the time I had seen some 24 teams and set the rather auspicious goal of having all of them written about by the time I went on my massive vacation out west last June. This did not happen. Instead, I was lazy, bumbling, and actually wound up spending some four months suffering through writer's block on my chapter about the Philadelphia Phillies. A rough combination of being daunted by the job and just being outstandingly lazy.
More the latter.
Well, my dear readers, get excited because now, at long last, I have finally reached the unreachable star. Sort of. I still have some 89 teams left to see and write about, but after finally polishing off a story about my trip to see the Mets visit the Orioles in Baltimore last month this Sunday I am now entirely caught up the present in penning my adventures. Don't get me wrong, there are many more to come, but at the very least I am no longer behind the eight ball.
I'm sure you're all breathing a little sigh of relief now.
The other big news is that my brother's impending wedding is warranting a transcontinental bachelor party. The big day is only six weeks or so off, and in the meantime, Elliott, myself and some friends will be heading to San Diego on Thursday for the purposes of celebrating his last days as a free man in a typical and totally not outrageously nerdy way at all. I'll bet all of you wish you could spend this Friday listening to a bunch of Hasbro designers talk about fashioning Star Wars action figures.
Who needs strippers?
The reason this has warranted mention here on my sports-centric blog is because after my time at the San Diego Comic-Con I will be heading up to Los Angeles where, if all the planning goes well, I will make the Los Angeles Dodgers the 34th team I cross off the list when they host my hot-as-pistols New York Mets Sunday at Dodger Stadium. There are still details to be hammered out, like seeing if the Amazins can find their heads and stop being an embarrassment, but I'm hopeful it all gets taken care of and yet another stop is taken care of.
Of course, at that point, the only problem is I'll be back behind schedule.... But don't worry, I have a long plane flight to occupy myself with after the game. And unlike a certain New Jersey Devils left winger, it won't take me three weeks to make up my mind on how to write it.
In approximately nine hours I will be airborne from Laguardia to Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport for my first trip to the state of Georgia. I have been there once before, a delightful two-hour sojourn as I switched planes on my way to Kansas City last October, but I've never actually been to Atlanta and left the airport.
This will be a new experience.
The reason for this trip? Well, if you've been reading here you already know, so, in all likelihood, you don't know, but if you know me you can probably guess. I'll be meeting up with a few friends, one of whom was my freshman year college roommate, as I see the Amazin just-got-swept-by-the-Marlins Mets visit the Atlanta Braves in their former house of horrors, Turner Field.
This will be team No. 32 for me, meaning I'm almost out of the 90s in that ever-shrinking category of "Teams remaining". I doubt I'll be attending any debutante balls or touring antebellum mansions, but I'm pretty excited for my first trip to the deep south -- assuming you don't count my trip to New Orleans nine years ago. I'm going to try my best to squeeze in a stop at the Coca-Cola Museum and/or the aquarium, but failing that the baseball will do just fine.
Rest assured, you will all have a full report at some point in the future.
Meanwhilst, the trip to Atlanta will provide me with a brief break from the Stanley Cup playoffs, which had one result expected and one result surprising in the first game of the Western and Eastern Conference Finals yesterday. While Chicago's victory in San Jose is not necessarily the assumed outcome, the hard-fought back-and-forth game put on by what very well may have been the two best teams in the League this year was just what a hockey fan would have imagined it to be.
Montrealers, however, might have to wait a little while before doing their best Philadelaphia Phillies impression after seeing the Habs drop Game 1 to the Flyers Sunday. A shutout could have been foreseen in Game 1, but Philly's little-played Michael Leighton pulling off the clean sheet and not Montreal's blazing hot Jaroslav Halak caused a bit of a double take, particularly considering Halak's disastrous showing. I wouldn't be surprised to see the Canadiens get back on track in Game 2, after all, the Flyers are supposed to defend their home ice. The Habs just need to win there once.
But more than anything else, Sunday may have showed that the more competitive, and better played game in the West, features this year's likely champ. Philadelphia and Montreal are both riding remarkable momentum, but neither stands a chance against a San Jose or Chicago team if its running on full cylinders.
That's all for today, kids. See you in the Peach State.
Some of you are probably wondering why it's been a while since I've mentioned hockey. A whole week in fact. Well, I've mentioned it in my past few posts, albeit only in passing, and I could tell you about how thrilling nearly every series is so far or how nearly a third of the games have gone to sudden death overtime, but, you see, there is one series that isn't very close.
And it happens to be my series.
You see, seven of eight series are either tied or at 2-1 split so far, but the one series that isn't is between my beloved New Jersey Devils and the hated Philadelphia Flyers. After two rough games in Philadelphia marred by some iffy officiating, frustrating opposition goaltending and a bizarre decision to not play offense, you know, at all, the Devils suddenly find themselves coming home for Game 5 in a 3-1 deficit and on the brink of elimination.
What makes it so frustrating? Well for one, Martin Brodeur is quietly having one of his better postseasons in recent years. New Jersey's Game 3 overtime loss featured one of the best performances Brodeur has put on in his entire career, while Game 4 featured several spectacular saves, including one that could be on highlight reels for years to come. The other frustration is that Philadelphia has, in net, the immortally forgettable Brian Boucher, a man who has spent the past decade being a journeyman who, aside from one outrageously remarkable shutout streak while with Phoenix, has been thoroughly mediocre for most of his career.
And here he is making remarkable stop after remarkable stop. Of course, he hasn't had to make too many considering the Devils' offense hasn't felt like generating many chances. Perhaps what makes this all most bothersome is that I knew before the postseason began that of the Devils' first-round options, the Flyers were the one I was least interested in playing. And here we are.
Essentially, it feels like my clearly inferior nemesis is beating the shit out of me with the help of his prepubescent brother.
Then again, there are probably more embarrassing ways to lose in the postseason.
Fortunately, Tuesday night provided a distraction from the pain of this year's first round in the form of one of the many days football fans across the country wait months for. No, I'm not talking about that "Super Bowl" nonsense. I'm talking about a day when everyone still has hope for the coming season. I talk, of course, about the release of the 2010 NFL Schedule.
Now, for some of you, this merely gives you the excitement of knowing when your team is playing whom, but for me, the intrigue lies also in potential road games I will try to hit this year. In the case of 2010, likely targets are the Giants visit to Indianapolis on September 19, their visit to Houston on October 10 and their trip down the turnpike to Philadelphia on November 21. There is also some potential for a return trip to Lambeau on December 26, as well as a trip to Chicago that same day to see the Jets visit the Bears. Unfortunately, my hopes that Minnesota would be home during my potential visit to Minneapolis in October weren't fulfilled. The Vikings will be on the bye that weekend.
For those of you wondering how your team's slate looks, NFL.com has a very cool breakdown of each schedule, replete with expected difficulty and total miles traveled, as well as a virtual map laying it all out. While I've had my misgivings about the Giants' schedule this year -- December is a brutal stretch with three division games surrounding trips to Green Bay and Minnesota, and it's the seventh toughest schedule in the League -- as Matt Mosley points out in his superb NFC East blog on ESPN.com, New York has back-to-back road games only once, the bye week doesn't come until Week 8 and the bye also comes before the Giants make that brutal cross-country trip to Seattle, which will provide some timely rest. That trip also happens to be the only one that will take them further west than Dallas.
Of course, it's too soon to really know how these schedules are going to break out. The NFL is as unpredictable as it comes when taking into account who will and won't be in the mix come November. And with the Giants not playing within the division until Week 7, there's plenty of time for them to build a cushion while the Eagles, Cowboys and Redskins bludgeon each other senseless.
Well, maybe not senseless, but once or twice anyway.
Of course, the NFL Schedule only lasts as a distraction for so long, and the NFL Draft, which starts on Thursday night -- the first time that's ever happened -- won't have quite as much staying power either. If the Devils don't turn it around soon, my only diversion will likely be the Mets, but, surprise surprise, the Mets have actually won two straight. (And three of their last four!) I know, small solace, really, but with a team that is expected to be among the dregs of the Majors, I'm taking what I can get for now, particularly since I think, when healthy, the Mets will actually be a fairly competitive team.
Don't worry, there's plenty of time for them to prove me wrong.
This gets more exciting when I point out that tonight I will be going to my first Mets game of the year, which is important for two reasons. A) I'll get to see the immortal Ike Davis for the first time. Davis shined in his debut on Monday, though his second outing was somewhat forgettable, but he is still considered the first baseman of the future, so I'm excited for my peak at what's to come. B) I'll finally get my first look at the completely revamped Citi Field, most notably its new Mets Hall of Fame and Museum.
If any of you are at the game, don't be afraid to say hi, and if the Mets can keep the winning ways up, maybe it'll actually provide a distraction from the fact that my Devils will be teetering on the edge of their season the next night. Of course, a 3-1 rally isn't impossible to come back from, as these two teams should know. And if you're looking for some sort of parallel between 2000 and 2010, look at who was in net both times. Martin Brodeur has been the Devils' mainstay for nearly two decades, but Philadelphia's crease has been a revolving door of names like Roman Cechmanek, Robert Esche and Antero Niittymaki. Bizarrely, however, the Flyer between the pipes for that collapse ten years ago?
Brian Boucher.
He may have been around the League and back since, but here's hoping history repeats itself.
I'm sure the 10 of you out there that check this on some sort of vague basis are probably very upset that I'm not going to have my weekly 1995 NFL Mail Bag up today, but unfortunately, a change in day-long plans, which start pretty early on my watch, are forcing me to postpone it for a week.
I hope you can manage.
In the meantime, some of you who took a gander at NHL.com yesterday might have come across this gem of a story about Nashville Predators coach Barry Trotz. Yeah, that's right. I got my first byline on a non-preview story, which kind of makes me feel like a real sportswriter for the first time since college. Maybe, just maybe my friends out there will take a read and realize that hockey is, you know, awesome.
What does this have to do with hockey? Well, there's never been a safer time to go see the New Jersey Devils at Prudential Center in downtown Newark. And as I've had my share of not feeling safe in Newark, if now is the time, I'm certainly taking advantage tomorrow by attending the New Jersey Devils-Chicago Blackhawks game. As a life long Devils fan and a one-time intern for the Hawks, it should be a pretty special night.
Also, my seats are fucking awesome.
If you happen to be there, don't be afraid to come find me. Until then stay tuned for this weekend. I'm sure the Final Four and MLB Opening Day will provide no shortage of fodder for me to ramble on.
Nearly as much as it excites me, but I hit a tremendous groove writing today and the result is that I've zipped through and finished the chapter I'm writing in my book about when I went to Jacobs Field with my mother in 2007.
I'm not sure when a condensed version of it will pop up on here, but for now I'm very satisfied with how the long version that will, theoretically, show up in the eventual book turned out. I get the feeling that this blog is really giving me the impetus to start getting through my writing at a solid rate, though I do have concerns about what happens when I catch up to the present and start running out of things to put up here regularly.
I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. In any event, my New Years resolution was to spend part of every day writing or researching one of my independent book projects and so far, for the most part, I'm sticking to it.
Lastly, for those of you who are keeping track of my sporting ventures, there will be a Dave sighting this Friday at the Prudential Center in Newark, N.J. when the Devils host the Montreal Canadiens. This is hardly a major trip for me. I've been there several times. But if anyone out there is going to be at the game, don't be afraid to say hi.
Have a good day everyone. A new story will be posted in the coming days.
