It's been a bit of a brutal week here at That's No Moon World Headquarters. Sometime while we were out of town on an overnight trip this past weekend, one of our cats, Bam-Bam, escaped from the house and has been missing since. We've canvassed the neighborhood, put up fliers, contacted the proper authorities and left food out all to no avail. Now that it's been five days, things look pretty bleak. We hoped he was lurking near the house because Bam-Bam is truly a fraidy cat. Having been an inside cat for his entire nine years, he has the street sense of a frozen turkey. In fact, he was voted Least Likely to Survive Outdoors by his high school classmates. Unfortunately, he wasn't just hiding out nearby waiting for us to come home.
So, after nearly a week of futile searching and following a few leads that went nowhere, I am reduced to rooting for the Disney ending. I hope one morning I'll open the door to find him weary from his outdoor adventure. He'll come in and regale us with his tale of the magnificent journey he took, telling us of the help he received from a puckish squirrel and the dim-witted, but hilarious rabbit. Alas, this is no movie and, unless Bam-Bam is better equipped to live outside than I think he is, I fear we've seen the last of him.
I didn't expect his escape to affect me as deeply as it has. Having never had pets as a kid, this is the first real loss of a pet that I've experienced. I know I like to joke about how much I hate the cats and being only an animal tolerator, but this has left me close to devastated. I just have to hope that either he has been scooped up by someone who is now taking good care of him or that he is having a grand time frolicking about the great outdoors. Imagining any other outcome just bums me out.
I probably won't be writing much, if at all, in the short term future because we have some other major business to attend to here shortly. Please don't worry, everyone is well; I'll explain soon enough.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Thud.
So... that was a bummer. But a little perspective is in order. A quick-fire list of thoughts as the Caps season expired.
*Losing in a Game 7 blows. Losing to the Pens in Game 7 is just the worst. I'll take my good natured ribbing from family that are legit Pens fans. What I can't stomach is all the bandwagon asshats whose hockey knowledge is no deeper than the 87 on their jersey. (Sadly, there are plenty of morons wearing Red #8s that fall into that same category.)
*Rarely do Game 7s (Games 7?) live up to the hype. That this series lived up to advance OVERhyping for six games was somewhat surprising. I thought this game might be a dud. Obviously, I was hoping it would be a dud in the other direction.
*Speaking of hype, it will be fun to watch the national media rush to tear down what they rushed to build up. (Ovie, the Caps, The Game That Will Save Hockey)
*Don Cherry must be masturbating into his plaid jacket.
*As much as I can't stand to praise Sidney Crosby, I must. He is many things-a whiny d-bag, a complainer, a mini-Mario and unfortunately, a great player. One thing I can't call him anymore is a pussy. He hangs around the tough parts of the rink and gets hard-nosed, dirty work goals. Having magnificent hands doesn't hurt either. I'm gonna go vomit now.
*I wasn't surprised that the Caps lost tonight, but I sure was surprised by how they lost. It's hard to believe that they played their worst game of the season on a night that required their best. I told Killer earlier today that if they started tonight like they started game 7 against the Rangers, the Caps would get their doors blown off. I don't like it when I'm right. Did they hit the ice flat? I'm not so sure, but it didn't take long to turn into a clunker. Certainly, Fleury's save on the Ovechkin breakaway set a tone. It pumps one bench and deflates another. Then the "8 second" goal just kicks the team in the nuts. Finally, the Guerin goal 30 seconds into the second period really erases any confidence that you can bounce back from a terrible first period.
*I said before the series began that no matter what happened I would be happy with the season the Caps completed. Once the disappointment of tonight wears off it will be easier to see the progress that was made. The team advanced further than last year. Sometimes there is a steep learning curve. I think the future is very bright for this young team. On the other hand, there are a lot of good young teams that aren't just going to let the rise of Ovechkin and the Caps occur like some kind of coronation. Two of them (the Hawks and the Pens) are still playing, gaining even more experience. There will be many more battles like this series in the coming years.
*I was very happy to see the majority of fans stayed at Verizon Center after the final horn to salute what really was a fantastic season. I'm sure leaving the ice to chants of M-V-P will provide Alex Ovechkin little solace tonight, but hopefully it indicates that this fanbase is growing beyond a bunch of fair-weather bandwagon jumpers.
*I was lucky to have an awesome season watching the Caps in person. It was a great decision to become a 6-game "season ticket holder". Had a blast with my ticket buddies, learning much about seat ettiquette and learning that it is best not to "Drown the Anger" when seat ettiquette has been violated. Through other generosity I was also able to watch two games from the club level including an AO hat trick in February and the turning-point game 5 of the Rangers series. All in all, I was 6-2 in person but unbeaten in the fun department. A truly great season in an awesome atmosphere.
*Finally, tonight is further evidence of what my friends and I have known for a long time-it is hard to be a Caps fan. There are many great joys which are often outweighed by the sting of playoff hardship. I truly believe that all the crap piled on decade after decade will only make the moment that much sweeter as we someday watch the Cup parade down Pennsylvania Ave. Until then, keep Rockin' the Red. Let's Go Caps.
*Losing in a Game 7 blows. Losing to the Pens in Game 7 is just the worst. I'll take my good natured ribbing from family that are legit Pens fans. What I can't stomach is all the bandwagon asshats whose hockey knowledge is no deeper than the 87 on their jersey. (Sadly, there are plenty of morons wearing Red #8s that fall into that same category.)
*Rarely do Game 7s (Games 7?) live up to the hype. That this series lived up to advance OVERhyping for six games was somewhat surprising. I thought this game might be a dud. Obviously, I was hoping it would be a dud in the other direction.
*Speaking of hype, it will be fun to watch the national media rush to tear down what they rushed to build up. (Ovie, the Caps, The Game That Will Save Hockey)
*Don Cherry must be masturbating into his plaid jacket.
*As much as I can't stand to praise Sidney Crosby, I must. He is many things-a whiny d-bag, a complainer, a mini-Mario and unfortunately, a great player. One thing I can't call him anymore is a pussy. He hangs around the tough parts of the rink and gets hard-nosed, dirty work goals. Having magnificent hands doesn't hurt either. I'm gonna go vomit now.
*I wasn't surprised that the Caps lost tonight, but I sure was surprised by how they lost. It's hard to believe that they played their worst game of the season on a night that required their best. I told Killer earlier today that if they started tonight like they started game 7 against the Rangers, the Caps would get their doors blown off. I don't like it when I'm right. Did they hit the ice flat? I'm not so sure, but it didn't take long to turn into a clunker. Certainly, Fleury's save on the Ovechkin breakaway set a tone. It pumps one bench and deflates another. Then the "8 second" goal just kicks the team in the nuts. Finally, the Guerin goal 30 seconds into the second period really erases any confidence that you can bounce back from a terrible first period.
*I said before the series began that no matter what happened I would be happy with the season the Caps completed. Once the disappointment of tonight wears off it will be easier to see the progress that was made. The team advanced further than last year. Sometimes there is a steep learning curve. I think the future is very bright for this young team. On the other hand, there are a lot of good young teams that aren't just going to let the rise of Ovechkin and the Caps occur like some kind of coronation. Two of them (the Hawks and the Pens) are still playing, gaining even more experience. There will be many more battles like this series in the coming years.
*I was very happy to see the majority of fans stayed at Verizon Center after the final horn to salute what really was a fantastic season. I'm sure leaving the ice to chants of M-V-P will provide Alex Ovechkin little solace tonight, but hopefully it indicates that this fanbase is growing beyond a bunch of fair-weather bandwagon jumpers.
*I was lucky to have an awesome season watching the Caps in person. It was a great decision to become a 6-game "season ticket holder". Had a blast with my ticket buddies, learning much about seat ettiquette and learning that it is best not to "Drown the Anger" when seat ettiquette has been violated. Through other generosity I was also able to watch two games from the club level including an AO hat trick in February and the turning-point game 5 of the Rangers series. All in all, I was 6-2 in person but unbeaten in the fun department. A truly great season in an awesome atmosphere.
*Finally, tonight is further evidence of what my friends and I have known for a long time-it is hard to be a Caps fan. There are many great joys which are often outweighed by the sting of playoff hardship. I truly believe that all the crap piled on decade after decade will only make the moment that much sweeter as we someday watch the Cup parade down Pennsylvania Ave. Until then, keep Rockin' the Red. Let's Go Caps.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The best goal I never saw.
Last night's David Steckel OT game-winner that propelled the Caps to Game 7 was, what, the 4th biggest goal scored in Caps' playoff history? I'd say number one would be Joe Juneau poking it past Hasek in OT to send Washington to its only trip to the Cup finals. I'd say number two would be Dale Hunter abusing Hextall to finish Game 7 OT versus the Flyers many moons ago. Third is tough, but I'd have to go with Sergei Fedorov ousting the Rangers in round one this year. Then I put Steckel's tip job from last night. I make this list to point out that I watched live half of the four greatest goals in Caps playoff history. I remember Juneau's like it was yesterday and leaped for joy when Fedorov connected a couple weeks ago. Which means...That's right, after years of torment by the Penguins, after seeing not one but two Pens OT winners bounce in off Capital defensemen in the last week, after riding the roller coaster that was regulation of Game 6 including rocking like Leo Mazzone on crystal meth through the final two minute penalty kill, I did not actually see David Steckel's game-winner when it happened.
We had eaten dinner and watched the first three periods of the game at my aunt's house. Had a lovely time, despite the ulcer inducing third period. Once the horn sounded, it was time to pack up and head for home in time to watch OT. Except that now with a seven-month-old, the packing up doesn't quite go as fast as it used to. High chair? Check. Diaper bag, food, toys? Check. Okay, let's hit it. Oh, yes, you're right, we should probably take the girl. Of course, then Mother Nature conspired to slow our ride with some heavy rain.
Finally, we make it home and I pick up the Comcast remote. The goddamn, convoluted, All On-button-that-never-works Comcast remote control. First the sound comes up but I realize the TV is still black. Furiously grabbing the remote, my fat fingers hit every button but the TV power. Finally, the green light on the TV starts flashing, but this TV takes FOREVER to warm up. Then I hear Joe B. shout the word SCORE! It sounds like good news, but after SCORE! I seem to have gone momentarily stupid as my brain races to piece together what it is hearing. Finally, after like ten minutes (or, more likely, four seconds) the color pops up and I am relieved to see the Caps merrily celebrating at center ice. Sweet relief, but instant disappointment as I realize that, though I am ecstatic over the victory, I missed out on the payoff moment. I missed the building tension and antsy feelings of OT leading up to the dramatic conclusion. I missed out on the joy of witnessing, at least with my eyeballs, the moment when enough was enough and Washington got a measure of payback against Pittsburgh. This will sound really corny, but I missed out on the shared experience that my far flung buddies and I have as we watch these games together. I hope the boys in Red have one more magic victory in them tomorrow night. And I hope like hell that destiny lets me hear and see this one. Rock the Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
We had eaten dinner and watched the first three periods of the game at my aunt's house. Had a lovely time, despite the ulcer inducing third period. Once the horn sounded, it was time to pack up and head for home in time to watch OT. Except that now with a seven-month-old, the packing up doesn't quite go as fast as it used to. High chair? Check. Diaper bag, food, toys? Check. Okay, let's hit it. Oh, yes, you're right, we should probably take the girl. Of course, then Mother Nature conspired to slow our ride with some heavy rain.
Finally, we make it home and I pick up the Comcast remote. The goddamn, convoluted, All On-button-that-never-works Comcast remote control. First the sound comes up but I realize the TV is still black. Furiously grabbing the remote, my fat fingers hit every button but the TV power. Finally, the green light on the TV starts flashing, but this TV takes FOREVER to warm up. Then I hear Joe B. shout the word SCORE! It sounds like good news, but after SCORE! I seem to have gone momentarily stupid as my brain races to piece together what it is hearing. Finally, after like ten minutes (or, more likely, four seconds) the color pops up and I am relieved to see the Caps merrily celebrating at center ice. Sweet relief, but instant disappointment as I realize that, though I am ecstatic over the victory, I missed out on the payoff moment. I missed the building tension and antsy feelings of OT leading up to the dramatic conclusion. I missed out on the joy of witnessing, at least with my eyeballs, the moment when enough was enough and Washington got a measure of payback against Pittsburgh. This will sound really corny, but I missed out on the shared experience that my far flung buddies and I have as we watch these games together. I hope the boys in Red have one more magic victory in them tomorrow night. And I hope like hell that destiny lets me hear and see this one. Rock the Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Who's more the fool, the fool or the fool that follows him?
And there it was. 3:28 into overtime. Barely enough time to settle into the extra session. Had you headed to the arena men's room at the end of regulation you may have still been in the john. Or seen it on a concourse tv monitor as you hustled back to your seat. 3:28 into OT, 1:59 into the killing of a penalty that had to be called, even in playoff OT. Nary half an hour after The Great Eight had seemingly, once again, rescued a season, the Penguins had, somehow, done it again. It was a fluky goal to be sure, but with Pittsburgh fluky is the norm. And, truthfully, whether it was a bad bounce or a sure-eyed laser from the slot, it was a dagger to the heart all the same. A dagger that made the bit of optimism that Ovechkin's goal rekindled seem trivial, silly. A dagger that hushed the crowd and made Monday night win or go home for the Capitals. A dagger that sent me on a cooling off walk up and down my driveway that probably lasted longer than the overtime session.
The goal was so expected that my phone didn't buzz with a single text message from fellow fans after the game. There was no need for communication, we were all thinking the same thing. We are students of history and need no flash cards or pop quizzes to jog our memory. This was just the latest installment in a story of hockey heartbreak. Sure, the driveway walk used to be a ripping of the sweater or the smashing of a remote control. Maybe I'm more mellow, but I'm no less frustrated. Two decades of this frustration leads to a little pessimism, a little paranoia and a whole lot of "Here we go again". I knew this series was over when the Caps took a 2 games to none lead. Pens had 'em right where they wanted them. I knew this series was over when Game 3 went to overtime. I knew the series was over when the shot tipped off Varly's glove and trickled in during Game 4. But see, now I'm not so sure.
I still have an inkling of a sliver of a wisp of hope that the Caps can still pull this off. Make no mistake, hope is all that remains. Common sense, history, statistics, trends and the curse all hopped the midnight shuttle to Pittsburgh. Maybe I'll be made a fool on Monday or Wednesday, but I won't be made a fool until every bit of hope is officially destroyed. Because if there is a chance, then a fan's duty is to believe. This team, over many years, has not reciprocated the love its fans have shown. At least not in terms of playoff success. However, a real fan cheers because they enjoy the team, not solely because the team is good. And I love this team; when on, they play a style that is fun to watch. Maybe these kids, and let's not forget that is what most of them still are, really do need to pushed to the brink to bring out their best. We know they are good enough, now they must show us that they want it bad enough. I'm just dumb enough to think they can, that this year is different. So stow the doom and gloom for at least one more day. Rock The Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
The goal was so expected that my phone didn't buzz with a single text message from fellow fans after the game. There was no need for communication, we were all thinking the same thing. We are students of history and need no flash cards or pop quizzes to jog our memory. This was just the latest installment in a story of hockey heartbreak. Sure, the driveway walk used to be a ripping of the sweater or the smashing of a remote control. Maybe I'm more mellow, but I'm no less frustrated. Two decades of this frustration leads to a little pessimism, a little paranoia and a whole lot of "Here we go again". I knew this series was over when the Caps took a 2 games to none lead. Pens had 'em right where they wanted them. I knew this series was over when Game 3 went to overtime. I knew the series was over when the shot tipped off Varly's glove and trickled in during Game 4. But see, now I'm not so sure.
I still have an inkling of a sliver of a wisp of hope that the Caps can still pull this off. Make no mistake, hope is all that remains. Common sense, history, statistics, trends and the curse all hopped the midnight shuttle to Pittsburgh. Maybe I'll be made a fool on Monday or Wednesday, but I won't be made a fool until every bit of hope is officially destroyed. Because if there is a chance, then a fan's duty is to believe. This team, over many years, has not reciprocated the love its fans have shown. At least not in terms of playoff success. However, a real fan cheers because they enjoy the team, not solely because the team is good. And I love this team; when on, they play a style that is fun to watch. Maybe these kids, and let's not forget that is what most of them still are, really do need to pushed to the brink to bring out their best. We know they are good enough, now they must show us that they want it bad enough. I'm just dumb enough to think they can, that this year is different. So stow the doom and gloom for at least one more day. Rock The Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Father of the Year.
Like most parents do with their own kids, I sing silly songs to Grace all the time. Sometimes I make up lyrics and a tune, but since I really have little to no musical talent, I usually sing goofy new lyrics to existing tunes. Lately I've noticed an alarming tendency to sing clean lyrics to the tune of dirty songs that would never ever be appropriate to sing to my six month old daughter.
Examples:when making her bottle- Oh, me so hungry. Oh, oh me so hungry. Me eat for long time.
While she's really jumping in her bouncy seat-She's a very bouncy girl, who really loves her mama. She's Super Grace, Super Grace, She's Super Gracie.
Please, no one call Child Protective Services.
Examples:when making her bottle- Oh, me so hungry. Oh, oh me so hungry. Me eat for long time.
While she's really jumping in her bouncy seat-She's a very bouncy girl, who really loves her mama. She's Super Grace, Super Grace, She's Super Gracie.
Please, no one call Child Protective Services.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
"Welcome to the Circus"
The only thing more improbable than the Caps' Game 7 win over the Rangers was the height of my leap off the couch when Sergei Federov scored the game-winning goal. My fat ass has not jumped that high in a long time. Amanda was afraid I was going to crash into something as I leapt over Grace's play mat(Grace wasn't on it) and took a lap around the kitchen silently screaming (so as to not alarm Grace). Think about it, a Caps fan, weighed on by the memories of past playoff failures, had to be an incurable optomist to think this team could complete the comeback against the Rangers. The Caps have compiled quite the greatest hits album of hope crushers before Tuesday night: Losing six out of seven game 7s. Peter Nedved. The Jagr Experiment. The Easter Epic. Last year's comeback falling short versus the Flyers. Too many blown three games to one leads. Esa Tikkanen. That's why Tuesday's victory, despite being only a first round series victory, feels so important.
The victory allows a fan base to breathe, once again aware that there is such a thing as Round 2. It allows the mind to fill with all the great memories of Caps past that make us love this team in the first place:Hunter "in alone" versus Philly in 1988. Al Iafrate blistering radar guns at the All-Star weekend. Dino. Bonzai hanging five goals on the Lightning. Kono, Dahlen and Halpern working the cycle. Godzilla carrying a team all the way to the Finals. Joe Juneau slipping an OT winner past Hasek that sent grown men shrieking like little girls.
It allows a fan base to dissect and celebrate a wacky series that joins a host of wacky playoff series in the Caps yearbook. The loudest arena I've ever been inside. Avery being such a douche that his own team benches him. Ovie adding to his highlight reel in Game 5. Matt Bradley grinding his way to not one, but two goals. Tortarella melting down and squirting fans when he was the one that needed to cool off. Bruce Boudreau having the balls to hand the helm of The Dissapointment Express to a kid goalie. Simeon Varlamov having the balls to right the ship and make Bruuuuuce look like a genius. A Tom Poti sighting. A Brashear suspension. (Deserved, by the way. Perhaps too severe, but definitely deserved.) Federov bailing out a tight team that was on the verge of a setback to reputation and development.
The danger here is that now, perhaps, the Caps breathe too big a sigh of relief. With a goal of simply improving on last year, which they have now accomplished, they are playing with house money. But they shouldn't be just "happy to be here" in Round 2. This team is good enough to go much deeper. If they don't, I will still be happy with this season. However, it will hurt like hell to go out to the Pens. That's why, instead of feeling like an end, the victory over the Rangers must feel like a beginning. The Caps slayed one Ghost of Playoffs Past by winning a Game 7. Now comes playoff nemesis Pittsburgh, a team that gives every Caps fan the heebie-jeebies. Somebody cue Ray Parker Jr.; there is more work to be done.
The victory allows a fan base to breathe, once again aware that there is such a thing as Round 2. It allows the mind to fill with all the great memories of Caps past that make us love this team in the first place:Hunter "in alone" versus Philly in 1988. Al Iafrate blistering radar guns at the All-Star weekend. Dino. Bonzai hanging five goals on the Lightning. Kono, Dahlen and Halpern working the cycle. Godzilla carrying a team all the way to the Finals. Joe Juneau slipping an OT winner past Hasek that sent grown men shrieking like little girls.
It allows a fan base to dissect and celebrate a wacky series that joins a host of wacky playoff series in the Caps yearbook. The loudest arena I've ever been inside. Avery being such a douche that his own team benches him. Ovie adding to his highlight reel in Game 5. Matt Bradley grinding his way to not one, but two goals. Tortarella melting down and squirting fans when he was the one that needed to cool off. Bruce Boudreau having the balls to hand the helm of The Dissapointment Express to a kid goalie. Simeon Varlamov having the balls to right the ship and make Bruuuuuce look like a genius. A Tom Poti sighting. A Brashear suspension. (Deserved, by the way. Perhaps too severe, but definitely deserved.) Federov bailing out a tight team that was on the verge of a setback to reputation and development.
The danger here is that now, perhaps, the Caps breathe too big a sigh of relief. With a goal of simply improving on last year, which they have now accomplished, they are playing with house money. But they shouldn't be just "happy to be here" in Round 2. This team is good enough to go much deeper. If they don't, I will still be happy with this season. However, it will hurt like hell to go out to the Pens. That's why, instead of feeling like an end, the victory over the Rangers must feel like a beginning. The Caps slayed one Ghost of Playoffs Past by winning a Game 7. Now comes playoff nemesis Pittsburgh, a team that gives every Caps fan the heebie-jeebies. Somebody cue Ray Parker Jr.; there is more work to be done.