Now That's Quite A Week.
The Blues get three wins in one week. They trade the top goal scorer and the top point getter and then go on a tear. And, they're more fun to watch now. And here come all those bandwagon St. Louis fans. That's right, the "best fans in sports" are back after abandoning our team for several months. I'm glad to have some support for the team, but I'm already bitter about the return of the half-way fan.
Just think how bitter I'll be when they get good.
I was at a neighborhood thing tonight and had a guy who told me not two months ago that he was "done supporting those guys" and "sending a message to ownership" by not going to a single game this year told me that, "I've been telling people that the Blues are at the bottom, but the ride up will be fun."
Yeah, he's right. But I'm bitter about anyone who isn't supporting the team during their worst year ever, who is already pre-planning his jump onto the bandwagon when they get better. I guess it's OK to call shotgun on the bandwagon now? Maybe I'm taking this personally...actually, I KNOW I'm taking this personally. It's not MY team. I am not tied to the team officially. I don't know any of the players. But I'm taking it personally because I am paying the dues. I am freezing my ass off out on the street trying to sell our "for the fans, by the fans" paper. I'm the guy who is living life on no sleep doing this for a few hardcore fans. I'm the guy who is getting into games by hook and by crook to sit up high and cheer like a maniac for a last place team.
So, excuse me if I take it personally when someone who really doesn't give a shit is reserving his seat next to mine for the party bus when this team gets good again. You should too. The fans who are going in every single game. The couple with the signed jerseys (no names and numbers because everyone gets traded) and the radio broadcast in the ear buds. The guy who goes to every game and is willing to talk hockey with a homeless-looking program publisher, even when it's whipping cold out. The guy who wants to get a back issue of GT because he came to the Coyotes game late and missed us. You people. You and I will be pissed when these guys try to grab their seats on the bandwagon.
So, let's enjoy this stretch. Let's enjoy Dennis Wideman and Dutchie Stempniak and Jay McClement and Mike Glumac and all the other youngsters making their way. Let's enjoy the guts of Dallas Drake. Let's enjoy saying goodbye to The Visor when he gets traded. And let's enjoy our scars. We're earning them this year and we're going to carry them forever, so let's promise never to forget where we got them.
Then, when a fair-weather, fake-assed "super fan" tries to talk about 'his' Blues, we will look at each other and nod. We'll know. But the fakers will have no idea.
Strange Jersey Sighting
Today there were lots of Dallas fans coming in. Some even picked up their sweet GT copies, which I can get behind. Next time I'm seeing a game on the road, I'll be looking for the local unofficial program, because I know it'll be better than the "real" one inside. Anyway, I saw two guys walk by in new Stars jerseys. They had number 14 on the sleeves, and I couldn't remember who 14 was (plus, I'm always intrigued by two guys who show up together in matching jersey numbers; brokeback or related?), so I checked the back. The back of the jerseys both said Tippett.
Dave Tippett is the coach of the Stars. He was an NHL player. But he never played for the Dallas Stars/Minnesota North Stars franchises. So what the hell is that jersey selection all about? I mean, to get a personalized jersey is no small task, unless you're buying a star player off the rack at the loacl sporting goods store. But to go in, with your buddy, and order a current jersey, with the coach's name and then to agree, in tandem, that the coach should wear number 14, then to pay the $200 to $300 to have the personalization done, then to wait two to four weeks to get it...well, not one part of that makes sense to me. I know a lot of people. I know a lot of hockey fans. I have some good friends. But I don't know one good friend, who is a great hockey fan and is willing to spend $300 and is willing to get the same guy as me and have that guy be the coach and then have a weird conversation about what number the coach might wear, if coaches were to wear playing uniforms, like baseball uniforms.
Plus, the number 14 is worn by current Star Stu Barnes.
So, basically, I'm left wondering, how the living shit did this happen? I mean the odds are similar to having an asteroid skip off the atmophere until it was the size of a quarter, then falling thousands of feet and finally, just as I pull down my britches to take a dump in the woods (which I try to do once a week, whether I'm camping or not) hit at just the right angle and perfectly slice off a boil on my ass, cauterizing it at the same moment.
Seriously, that's what the odds are like.
I can't even imagine the series of conversations that take place leading up to, "I'd like to place an order for two personalized Stars jerseys. Yes, we'd like the name Tippett on the back..."
This Is Pretty Non-Hockey
So I mentioned the neighborhood party tonight? Well, I also got to hang out with the coolest guy in my particular 'hood as part of that. Just before schooling me on how to play "Guitar Hero" for playstation, he poured the most bad-ass drink I've ever seen. Brown and icy, the goddamn pour he made was beyond to-the-brim. Not one more drop could be contained by the glass. So I said, "damn, surface tension is the only thing holding that in, Jim."
Jim, with no hesitation, pointed at the drink and said, "check out the ice". Which was swirling a circle above the surface tension by at least half an inch.
It's got nothing to do with the Blues or hockey, but I just wanted to note that that I think I was drinking with a guy who could form his own Rat Pack here in St. Louis.
Sleep When You're Dead.
I realized today that because of the five games in 13 days schedule, I've slept 31 hours in the last seven days. Thank god for a roadtrip. I'll be catching up on some stuff over the next three weeks, but you can expect to see some new stuff on the site as I update the last two issues, the new logo/motto on the messge board and some other interesting news about the paper.
So, stick around, kids, we'll still be here.
Just think how bitter I'll be when they get good.
I was at a neighborhood thing tonight and had a guy who told me not two months ago that he was "done supporting those guys" and "sending a message to ownership" by not going to a single game this year told me that, "I've been telling people that the Blues are at the bottom, but the ride up will be fun."
Yeah, he's right. But I'm bitter about anyone who isn't supporting the team during their worst year ever, who is already pre-planning his jump onto the bandwagon when they get better. I guess it's OK to call shotgun on the bandwagon now? Maybe I'm taking this personally...actually, I KNOW I'm taking this personally. It's not MY team. I am not tied to the team officially. I don't know any of the players. But I'm taking it personally because I am paying the dues. I am freezing my ass off out on the street trying to sell our "for the fans, by the fans" paper. I'm the guy who is living life on no sleep doing this for a few hardcore fans. I'm the guy who is getting into games by hook and by crook to sit up high and cheer like a maniac for a last place team.
So, excuse me if I take it personally when someone who really doesn't give a shit is reserving his seat next to mine for the party bus when this team gets good again. You should too. The fans who are going in every single game. The couple with the signed jerseys (no names and numbers because everyone gets traded) and the radio broadcast in the ear buds. The guy who goes to every game and is willing to talk hockey with a homeless-looking program publisher, even when it's whipping cold out. The guy who wants to get a back issue of GT because he came to the Coyotes game late and missed us. You people. You and I will be pissed when these guys try to grab their seats on the bandwagon.
So, let's enjoy this stretch. Let's enjoy Dennis Wideman and Dutchie Stempniak and Jay McClement and Mike Glumac and all the other youngsters making their way. Let's enjoy the guts of Dallas Drake. Let's enjoy saying goodbye to The Visor when he gets traded. And let's enjoy our scars. We're earning them this year and we're going to carry them forever, so let's promise never to forget where we got them.
Then, when a fair-weather, fake-assed "super fan" tries to talk about 'his' Blues, we will look at each other and nod. We'll know. But the fakers will have no idea.
Strange Jersey Sighting
Today there were lots of Dallas fans coming in. Some even picked up their sweet GT copies, which I can get behind. Next time I'm seeing a game on the road, I'll be looking for the local unofficial program, because I know it'll be better than the "real" one inside. Anyway, I saw two guys walk by in new Stars jerseys. They had number 14 on the sleeves, and I couldn't remember who 14 was (plus, I'm always intrigued by two guys who show up together in matching jersey numbers; brokeback or related?), so I checked the back. The back of the jerseys both said Tippett.
Dave Tippett is the coach of the Stars. He was an NHL player. But he never played for the Dallas Stars/Minnesota North Stars franchises. So what the hell is that jersey selection all about? I mean, to get a personalized jersey is no small task, unless you're buying a star player off the rack at the loacl sporting goods store. But to go in, with your buddy, and order a current jersey, with the coach's name and then to agree, in tandem, that the coach should wear number 14, then to pay the $200 to $300 to have the personalization done, then to wait two to four weeks to get it...well, not one part of that makes sense to me. I know a lot of people. I know a lot of hockey fans. I have some good friends. But I don't know one good friend, who is a great hockey fan and is willing to spend $300 and is willing to get the same guy as me and have that guy be the coach and then have a weird conversation about what number the coach might wear, if coaches were to wear playing uniforms, like baseball uniforms.
Plus, the number 14 is worn by current Star Stu Barnes.
So, basically, I'm left wondering, how the living shit did this happen? I mean the odds are similar to having an asteroid skip off the atmophere until it was the size of a quarter, then falling thousands of feet and finally, just as I pull down my britches to take a dump in the woods (which I try to do once a week, whether I'm camping or not) hit at just the right angle and perfectly slice off a boil on my ass, cauterizing it at the same moment.
Seriously, that's what the odds are like.
I can't even imagine the series of conversations that take place leading up to, "I'd like to place an order for two personalized Stars jerseys. Yes, we'd like the name Tippett on the back..."
This Is Pretty Non-Hockey
So I mentioned the neighborhood party tonight? Well, I also got to hang out with the coolest guy in my particular 'hood as part of that. Just before schooling me on how to play "Guitar Hero" for playstation, he poured the most bad-ass drink I've ever seen. Brown and icy, the goddamn pour he made was beyond to-the-brim. Not one more drop could be contained by the glass. So I said, "damn, surface tension is the only thing holding that in, Jim."
Jim, with no hesitation, pointed at the drink and said, "check out the ice". Which was swirling a circle above the surface tension by at least half an inch.
It's got nothing to do with the Blues or hockey, but I just wanted to note that that I think I was drinking with a guy who could form his own Rat Pack here in St. Louis.
Sleep When You're Dead.
I realized today that because of the five games in 13 days schedule, I've slept 31 hours in the last seven days. Thank god for a roadtrip. I'll be catching up on some stuff over the next three weeks, but you can expect to see some new stuff on the site as I update the last two issues, the new logo/motto on the messge board and some other interesting news about the paper.
So, stick around, kids, we'll still be here.
posted by gallagher @ 12:20 AM
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