Quick Hits: Brought to you by Blue Moon and Massive Sleep Deprivation
So the Wild win against Calgary (big), Khudobin extends his NINE game losing streak, and Avery grabs Dallas by the nuts and twists. FUN!
I think we've pretty well established here that my boundaries around appropriate behavior are a bit loose at times. I'll never be a politician's wife. Live and let live, I say.
So, I like Aves. And I've missed his delinquency, even if Marty Turco hasn't. You think goalies throw some ear plugs in when they're playing him? Might not hurt, right? Just to dull the din a bit.
-------------------------
I'm about to say the oldest thing I've ever said:
The coming weather front is making my knees hurt.
AUGH! I should probably go dig my grave while the permafrost is soft, right?
But they do. They hurt. But they're ALL that hurt, other than about 5 spots on my body where I have bruises. So I'm delighted that for the first time ever after a 3-in-3, I have more bruises than aches.
Normally the groins are a little tender, hamstrings or quads a little tight. Nope. Feeling good. Lots of energy in my legs (apart from those cranky knees).
It's weird because I don't feel stronger or anything. I think part of it is getting more efficient, which is something lazy people like me are really good at.
-------------------------
Have I mentioned I love washing my gear? And I don't even just mean in the new washer (arriving Tuesday!), but I washed out my glove and blocker tonight as they were both getting slimy inside.
It's so cathartic to crank the hot water up and just rinse all that sweat and funk and ick out. And with white gear, you can actually see it washing away. It's just such a concrete, tangible accomplishment and my glove smelled like absolutely nothing when I was done. Yay!
--------------------------
The cashier at Wing Stop knew me by name tonight. This may explain why my lateral movement is slow.
---------------------------
If you haven't checked it out yet, here's a really interesting read from Hutch over at In Goal Mag with some opinions from around the goalie universe as to what the most significant development in goaltending has been in the last decade.
I tried really hard to muster an answer but I'm too new to the game. Hit me up in 10 more years and I'll blow your mind. Lowell Devil's hottie goalie Mike McKenna's answer resonated with me the most, but I can't tell if it's because he's so good looking or because it actually really resonated with me. I'm not kidding. Really can't tell. It's actually a little frustrating.
Seriously though, the stuff about the high level of training, and yet the conformity of training, is what stuck with me. I don't hesitate to lament a good but dull goalie. I hope goalie coaches out there will embrace a player's uniqueness as they develop their style. Leave boring goaltending to the Finns.
--------------------------
Speaking of hot boys, Stoner's hurt again. Groiner. My god, why didn't it occur to me to be an athletic trainer when I grew up? I mean, really.
Alright fine, I'll stop being a dirty cougar and send you to this article about Stoner's situation in Minnesota, but keep going to the end where there's a really touching little bit from his parents. And how lovely is it that his dad got to be there for the Father/Son trip? Very.
-------------------------
Texas in the National Championship tomorrow night. We're having some folks over to watch. Can any game ever be as good as the last time we won this, though? I'm not all that excited. I think I'll entertain myself by using as many hockey terms as possible just to annoy Mr.C.
"Boy, that was a nice goal by McCoy."
"Alabama's having trouble getting out of the neutral zone."
"Oh a penalty? Yeah! Texas on the power play!"
"That Bama guy totally just crosschecked Shipley!"
This is old but it makes me laugh. I fucking hate Brent Musburger.
--------------------------
Goodnight.
Posts
7 comments:
Ha! I am so going to use hockey terms during the game the next time my sister's dipshit boyfriend forces us to watch the stupid Baltimore Ravens. If he isn't annoyed enough to change the channel at least I'll be entertained.
And that Musburger drinking game almost makes me want to watch the game, except we'd be so drunk by halftime no one would be able to read the rules anymore!
P.S. I have a question for you oh wise and glorious master of the nets. During the World Juniors gold medal game the announcers said that the U.S. goalie had "soft pads." Are goalies' pads actually different levels of softness (or whatever you'd call it) or was that a convoluted way to descibe his style of play?
Yeah, you'd need a designated whatever to keep the game on track.
And yeah, there are definitely variables in the softness of pads. Mine are of the softer variety, but I've borrowed some that were rock hard.
However, as far as what they meant... I've never heard that term in terms of style, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Trying to think of what it might mean though... I dunno. Good question!
"The cashier at Wing Stop knew me by name tonight. This may explain why my lateral movement is slow."
You sure she just didn't read your name off of your credit/debit/check card. I hate it when cashiers do that. I've never seen you before, I am not your friend, you don't know me, don't call me by my first name!
Anyway, I've always found that one tends to get much better service from people who genuinely know your name. They then view you as a person, an individual, rather than just lumping you into the group of "customer" which also includes many, many jackasses.
As for the "soft pads" question relating to style, I'd assume they maybe meant he was absorbing the puck and not giving up many rebounds.
No, she looked at me when I got up to the register and thought for a second and basically said my name at the same time I said my name. I agree, I love when places remember my name but, you know, I'm an "athlete." Probably shouldn't have the fried chicken wing purveyor on that list. Heh. But dammit, the garlic parm are soooo tasty.
That was kinda what I was leaning, too, if they meant it style-wise. No big rebounds.
Or maybe they have Quilted Northern tissue stuffed in their pants. (Love that commercial.)
Wing Stop appears to be hockey food around here (SF Bay Area). At least, it's chick hockey food.
And by the way, you aren't frickin' old enough to be a cougar. Turn 40, THEN you can be a cougar. until then, you are a mere kitten.
Get some sleep, doll.
You think? I heard 35. I mean... some of my boys are like 20. Eep!
Post a Comment