Caps, Beard Soldier On.

I honestly haven't been able to put together a cohesive post regarding the Caps' huge win over the Rangers on Tuesday. As a long suffering Caps fan it was almost too much to digest. I am shocked, elated, surprised and generally stunned that the Caps completed the trip back from being down three games to one. It's almost enough to drive the pessimist out of me. (yeah, right) I'll try to write something that makes sense in the coming days; until then enjoy this beautiful photo of my playoff peach fuzz. As you can see, it remains quite sad. Even sadder-this is the fullest, most robust beard I've ever grown. Ready for ZZ Top, I am not.

"The Pig Is a Filthy Animal"

I guess Jules from Pulp Fiction was right to not "dig on swine". The swine flu was pretty easy to ignore when it popped up in Elsewhere, USA. Now that a couple of probable cases have been discovered in Anne Arundel County, however, the hypochondria in me has slipped into overdrive. I know, logically, that if I take the same precautions as I would during a normal cold and flu season that I should be fine. Unfortunately, the hypochondriac doesn't think logically. With the evening news barking in my ear, I'll wonder which of the people I pass in the grocery store is about to give me this new influenza bug. Truthfully, I'm far more worried about Grace than myself. I'd hate for her to be exposed, but a bubble doesn't seem very practical. Do they make Popemobile strollers?

Daddy Blooper.

Have you ever spilled coffee all over the inside of your trunk because you folded and stowed the stroller without remembering that the wife's full cup of joe was still in the cupholder? No? Your car thanks you.

The Beard Lives Another Day.

Through some serious good fortune I watched tonight's game 5 of the Caps-Rangers series from the club level at Verizon Center. I still think I know how this series ends, but I didn't let that stop me from enjoying tonight. What a game.

*Muckers and grinders everywhere are celebrating tonight after watching Matt Bradley pot two goals in the first period. One was a sweet deke and the other a cheapie that found a hole. Both goals gave the Caps some early mo and kept the crowd revved up.

* That was easily the loudest game I've attended. To use the tired expression, the atmosphere was electric. From the opening draw the crowd was nuts; there was a sustained buzz that I had never heard in that building before. The Caps did not need their fake decibel meter tonight; you could barely hear after the first goal. The only hiccup was the dope that apparently poured his beer on Ranger coach John Tortarella. I have no love for Tortarella, however that's just classless. That is the kind of thing that you might expect in NY or Philly. Though it was hilarious watching Jim Schoenfeld wrestle Torts on the bench preventing him from whacking the fan with a stick.

*Speaking of classless, the Rangers scratched Sean Avery tonight. It looked like they missed his edge. I was hoping to see him play so I could see him freighttrained in person. Oh well. Colton Orr kept up the dirty stuff, though, with the his clotheslining of Nick Backstrom. Bruce Boudreau was smart to keep his stars on the bench for the last five minutes of the game. If the score in game 6 gets out of hand it might explode into a bloodbath.

*Alex Ovechkin scored another incredible goal. This video does it no justice, the in-house replay showed just how great it was. He shrugs off one defender (Drury, I think) who tries to hit him, pushes the puck through the moving skates of Derrick Morris, kicks the puck back up to his stick, falls down and pushes it past Lundqvist. Silly stuff. The fans move to the edge of their seats every time he touches the puck. And are rewarded way more often than you would think possible.

*Simeon Varlomov earned his second shutout of the series. He wasn't dominant, but made every play. Even after the game, during the celebration, as someone slid the game puck towards him, he casually flipped it away from the net with his glove. H wasn't going to let any pucks behind him tonight.

So, after all that, as great as it was, the Caps still need two straight wins to win the series. Likely? No. But after what I saw and felt otnight, anything seems possible.

I Know How This Movie Ends.

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Not Yet Soured By Playoffs Past.

Gracie and I were Rocking the Red during the third period of the Caps' 4-0 shutout of the Rangers last night. Look how intently she's analyzing the Caps penalty kill unit. Or perhaps she's looking for an escape route. Either way, I was loving it. (Also, for my sanity, I've decided to write no more Caps posts until this series is over.)

New Blog Alert

I've been meaning to post a new link for several weeks now. My beautiful bride is writing again, posting at With Grace. Hopefully you'll enjoy her tales of madcap adventures raising her cute kid and putting up with her incredibly handsome and brainy husband.

Rangers 4-Capitals 3

With two days until Game 2 of the Caps-Rangers, there is plenty of time to stew over game 1 and chew on the possibilties for game 2. In Game 1 there was a nice mix of the good, the bad and the so-so.

THE GOOD
-The Capitals' centers: The Caps centers dominated in the faceoff circle, winning 46 of 64 faceoffs. This helped the power play rack up zone time and led to several quality scoring chances right off of draws.

-The Caps' power play: 2 for 7 doesn't sound great at first glance, but 28% is a better clip than the Caps' PP (which ranked second in the league) operated at all season. Not to mention that the Rangers PK was top ranked by giving up goals at only a 14% rate. One reason the PP was successful was :

-Traffic: Guys went to the net and took the abuse necessary to disrupt Henrik Lundqvist. Tomas Fleischmann's deflection goal was a direct result of setting up in the meat grinder. Brooks Laich clogged the crease on the Caps' third goal, allowing Alex Semin to fire home the juicy rebound. Traffic in front of Lundqvist is a must if the Caps are to solve King Henrik. He's just too good when he can see the puck.

-Ovechkin:What more can be said about this guy? He was everywhere-hitting, earning two assists, firing shots from all over and completely undressing Rangers D-men a couple of times.

THE BAD

-Jose Theodore: Theodore said it perfect himself after the game, "I wasn't good enough." Theodore, or as Washington Post columnist Mike Wise has dubbed him, Jose Threeormore let the supposedly anemic Rangers offense pierce the net four times on only twenty-one shots. The first goal and fourth, game-winning goal are saves he must make. The second and third goals, both on the PK, maybe get a bit of a pass. They were both great, top shelf shots with the defense a man down. However, any goalie that wins in the playoffs makes those kinds of saves; pulling out a big stop when it seems unlikely can bolster the confidence of the entire team. Just as letting in softies can deflate an entire team.

-Jeff Schultz: One goal doesn't lose a game, but Schultz was front and center as he got embarrassingly turned inside-out by Dubinsky on the game-winning goal. Jeff Schultz is a big man who could put guys on their can but won't; in this case all he had to do was stay between Dubinsky and the goal. Instead, he follows the puck fake, steps to the outside and clumsily falls down as Dubinsky rolls by. You know who falls for that fake? I do. An uncoordinated, overweight rec league player who didn't start playing hockey until he was 19 years old falls on his face after biting on a lousy fake, not an NHL quality defenseman. Coach Boudreau on Schultz, "This is the NHL, you get beat one-on-one, you can't hide from that. That's not an error of anything than he didn't get the job done on that play."

-Penalties: Once again, the Caps managed to take two delay of game penalties for shooting the puck off the rink. Then they let a Rangers power play that ranked 28th in the league cash in on 2 of 4 chances.

THE SO-SO

Sergei Federov: He was great in the face-off circle but otherwise looked slow and off-kilter. Maybe he's dinged or maybe he's just showing his age. He also took one of the delay of game penalties.

-The Officiating: The Zebras weren't in top form tonight, missing a lot. On the Ranger's first goal two penalties should have been called on the Rags as they rushed up ice. Nik Antropov interfered with Fleischmann eliminating a back checker and super-douche Sean Avery slewfooted Mike Green at the blue line allowing Gomez to walk in unimpeded on Theodore. The refs also missed a high stick to Federov's mush early in the game and the linesman flat out blew the offsides call on an Ovechkin dash to the middle. The Caps did get a break, however, when the Rangers were whistled for a tripping call late when it looked like it was only Ovie's own momentum that made him fall.

-Flipping the Switch:There has been talk for weeks about whether the Caps could "turn it back on" when the playoffs started after playing meaningless games for a while. I would say that they did successfully turn it back on. They played hard, passionate hockey from the opening draw. They looked pretty sharp and stuck to their puck possession system, eliminating many of the odd-man rushes and general sloppy plays that characterized their last 10-15 games. Unfortunately, that still didn't translate into a win.

-The Playoff Beard: My beard is so-so to begin with, but now it seems extremely pointless. I believe fellow bearder Killer received an online message that simply read, "Shave your shit now, Dude." Hah! It's much too early for that. This a best-of-seven, damnit.

So, what does this all mean for Game 2? The obvious question is whether or not Boudreau should bench Theodore in favor of 21 year old rookie goalie Simeon Vharlamov. If you believe that playing Theodore means you are going to be in an 0-2 hole then you may as well give Vharlamov a shot. I prefer to think that Theo can bounce back. I also don't think throwing a kid with only 5 games of NHL experience into the Stanley Cup playoff frying pan is the best idea for his long term growth. Everybody must remain calm and let this thing play out. Nobody thought the Caps were going to sweep this series. Besides, if I may rationalize this loss away for a moment, the Caps are 6-13 all time in playoff series in which they one the first game. (I'm trying to ignore that they are 4-6 alltime when losing the first game). I said it weeks ago and I'll say it again- This team is good enough to win the Cup and has enough flaws (goaltending, defense,stupid penalties) to go out in the first round. I will root like hell, but I will not believe they will win this series until I see them shaking hands with dissapointed Rangers. Until then, I watch the series the way I always do-expext the worst, hope for the best.

Drool All Over 'Em, Let 'Em Know You're There.

Grace's teething stage has hit overdrive. Lots of gnawing, drooling, crying, drooling, sore gums and more drooling, yet only two teeth have popped through. I think one of these days she's going to wake up with five new ones at once. In the meantime, she's drooling so much that Jim Cantore is in my front yard setting up a live remote. I'd consider building an Ark, but I think Grace would gnaw through it faster than the termites.

In other awesome baby developments, Grace has started laughing. Not just grinning, cooing and squealing; she has delivered some full-on, cute as hell, HAHAHA belly laughs. Just not for me. I can earn the coos/smiles/squeals of delights, but no belly laughs. Amanda's the goddamn Richard Pryor of the family apparently, while Grace gets as stonefaced as Buckingham Palace guards at a Jim Belushi show when I try to make her laugh. Then, the other day, it got worse. Upon hearing some serious baby laughter I peeked around the corner to see Grace laughing at the cat. THE CAT. My nemesis, the cat, elicits hysterical laughter from my daughter where I cannot. I guess pooping in potted plants and pissing outside the litter box passes for funny these days. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go try to work up a hairball.

Maybe the World Isn't Such a Bad Place After All.

I think it is no secret that I am a skeptical, cynical, curmudgeonly pessimist. I've been known to utter the phrase "I hate people." because, well, I sometimes hate people in general. However, a small, but impactful event recently reminded that not everyone out there is a jackass.

Friday night found the family and a friend hanging out at the Barnes and Noble in Bowie, MD. We were feeding Grace at the Cafe (she just loves her mocha lattes) and she was being a little fussy. I try to be aware when the girl is loud (especially in a bookstore) because I am sensitive to the other patrons who don't necessarily find a wailing baby to be the perfect accompaniment to their coffee break. When Grace calmed down and completed her feeding I left her with mom and started browsing. I'll paraphrase the exchange I had with another customer because, though I've tried, I can't remember exactly what he said:

Older Gentleman: "Are you the dad?"
Me: (Immediately thinking he's going to give me a hard time about the noise.) "Yes."
OG: (Handing me a Barnes and Noble bag.) "Then consider this a gift from a stranger. You have a lovely family. Enjoy your baby."
Me: barely able to get out a stunned "Thank You."

After showing Amanda the gift, which was a small gift set from the book Guess How Much I Love You, we both went over and thanked him again and spoke with him (and his wife and granddaughter) for a bit. He simply said he was a grandfather who loved kids and that having babies around brought great joy (or something like that). I told him that gestures like his helped restore my faith in people. A brief exchange to be sure, but one that will stick with me for a long time. And one that hopefully I can use as a teaching moment with Grace one day. Sometimes, no matter how many amazing people you have in your life, it takes a stranger to shine a light on what's really important. Thank you, Sir.

Everybody Grow a Weirdo Beardo.

It's time for my annual exercise in futility:the playoff beard. Futile on one hand because the superstition has never helped the Caps advance beyond round one. Futile on the other hand because I can't grow a beard any better than your average eighth grader. But this year my ratty, patchy, peach fuzz could actually help people. The Caps are having a beard-a-thon to raise money for Capitals Charities. So good luck and happy growing! If you want to sponsor me go here .

Bowling Alley-Enemy of the Germophobe #2

Thanks to the cringe inducing feedback I received (some in the comments, but mostly talking to people) after my post on filthy hotel rooms I have decided to make The Enemy of the Germophobe a recurring series. I have no shortage of places and things that gross me out, so stay tuned.

Today's installment is that house of horrors known as the bowling alley. Let's start with the obvious-the shoes. Foot funk is gross. Community foot funk is really gross. Maybe when ordering shoes I need to specify that I want the size 13 pair not just turned in by the guy with trenchfoot. And don't tell me about the anti-bacterial spray they keep on the counter. That stuff is about as effective as the Orioles bullpen. One squirt in the heel is no match for the germs that lurk in the toejam neighborhood. And the guy half-spraying them wants to be holding those shoes about as much as I want to be wearing them. The sweet odiferous cocktail of foot sweat and pleather is more than enough to turn your stomach. If I want to smell old cheese at the bowling alley I will head for the snack bar.

Which, because I'm a dope, is exactly what I did last night because we were bowling around dinner time. There's a good chance (I hope) that this snack bar is cleaner than most drive-thrus I seem unable to avoid. However, at the drive-thru I can't see what goes on with my food. Which you would think would drive me nuts, except that my overwhelming need for saturated fat usually pushes the fear out of my brain. Anyway, back at the bowling alley's E. Coli Cafe I first get to witness the lack of hand washing after money handling. Then I hear "Ooh, good save!" and look up in time to see my frozen burger patty picked up off a shelf under the counter where it had landed after slipping out of the cook's hand on the way to the grill. I'm glad it didn't hit the floor, but I'm pretty sure that dark shelf must be where all the cockroaches hang out while the lights are on. "Excuse me, Mam, maybe you could sprinkle a few tainted peanuts and pistachios on the roll for good measure."

Finally, beware the dreaded finger holes looming on every ball. These havens of disease force the germophobe to weigh the pros and cons of wearing a latex glove when he bowls. Only the embarrassment of looking ridiculous keeps the gloves at home. Though, wearing one glove Michael Jackson-style really wouldn't look much sillier than those crazy wrist supports the serious bowlers wear. Think about it- how many nose picks, crotch scratches and wedgie pulls grace bowler fingertips just prior to picking up the ball? Nasty, right? Forget the ball polisher, I want my bowling alley to have an autoclave.

I love to bowl; the bowling alley, like the liquor store and the back room at the video store, is one of America's great melting pots. I just wish that I didn't feel the need to shower when I'm finished.