Caps hit the west coast plus other things

The following is a rant broken into mini bits of thoughts poorly strung together. It's going to cover a whole lot of bleepin' (this is how I'm going to curse because I'm in the mood (I'm always in the mood) for a good curse) subjects. If you come to something you don't like, skip down some. Or just bail on it. I ain't mad at ya.

(I'm a little rude to Canada later. It's nothing against you personally, Canada. All the Canadians I know are lovely people, I just got my feelings hurt.)

The Washington Capitals are going down the left coast this week and the games are late, so I'm probably not going to watch.

It's probably just as well because this could be the end of the Caps season right here.

They've been really, really bleepin' mediocre. They're sat dead in the middle of a not-that-great Metropolitan division (Philly has looked really good lately and I'm looking forward to them taking a nice whack at whoever they get in the playoffs. They played us feisty a few times and save a really bleepin' lame goalie fight, I ain't mad at 'em. *shakes fist at Ray Emery*).

It'd mean a start to the armchair GMing that is nothing but bloviating by people who think they know more than the professionals. I don't mind it from journalists but save meeeeeee from that noise. (I'll probably do a little bit of it later because I bleepin' feel like it.)

But it'll also start the blaming. It's George McPhee's fault! It's Adam Oates's fault! It's Alexander Ovechkin's fault! Best bleepin player in the league last year and he can't bleepin' make it to the playoffs!

That last one is the only one that bothers me personally.

It shouldn't. The last thing I should be worried about is someone who can't realise that it's a game where your best player spends about one third of the game on the ice. It'll come, though, from the Mike Milburys of the world.

I will do my best to tune it out. It'll still probably tick me off. Idiots.


Tonight, Adam Oates is going to play Jay Beagle on the second line.

Bleepin' huh?

I don't get it. Beagle is a good fourth line guy.

Know who isn't? Dustin Penner.

There has to be some kind of miscommunication between Oates and McPhee. I thought Penner would be a top-six guy. But he's out with the fourth line. Again.

He's a guy with experience that the Caps might be able to get on the cheap in free agency.

Yanno, if he wanted to stay. The guy came in saying all the right things (I know the dangers of putting too much stock into what a guy says but there seemed to be some enthusiasm there, which was nice). But get stuck on the fourth line for most of your time in a new city in a contract year and that's good incentive to put that city in your rear view.


I'm planning on going to see a Caps game on April Fool's day. Do with that what you will.

By then the season could be finito, and if it's not done by then, it could be that night. They're playing the Stars.

I try to make it to at least one game per year and this year it feels like duty more than anything. I'll probably get to see Jaroslav Halak with his white mask play along with a crew of other guys who won't be around next year.

Go bleepin' Caps.


Am I the only one who finds the minutia of Alexander Ovechkin's life a little overhyped?

He's playing video games with houseguest Evgeny Kuznetsov. Kuzya wins and Ovechkin does pushups. Then Kuzya has to drive him somewhere or something.


Having a star as big and bright as Ovechkin merits coverage, of course. But let the man live. His attitude is awesome and he's fun as all hell to watch. But we don't have to watch all the bleepin' time.


What does Braden Holtby's mom think?


Brooks Laich.

That guy can't get right with injuries. He's getting it all the way right in his dating life.

Hand holding? Walking her dogs? DRIVING HER WHIP?

Play on, playa.


George McPhee enters his office. It's a Tuesday in June and it's late. He should be home but he had an urge to stop in.

He shuts the door. Someone is behind it.

"Heyyy, George" says a voice from the shadows.


Oleksy moves from the shadows. His fists are clenched.

"What's up b-buddy? How are things in Hershey?" McPhee is sweating profusely.

"Ohhhhh, same old, Georgie boy. Just want a quick word with you."

The door slams shut. There are no words. 


Cold word, eh Philip Grubauer?



  1. Swaggy glasses 
  2. Lip pursing 
  4. Call up young bucks 
  5. All the goalies 
  6. Find another absurdly loyal owner (if necessary)
  7. Trade prospects for poop 
  9. Fun Ovechkin stories 
  10. Repeat "John Erskine is a top-six defenseman"
  12. Volpatti extension


So this is super late but it just popped into my brain because I heard some Canadian people talking about this and it made me think. And be a little petty.

Canada beat the United States in the Olympics in men's hockey. This was a source of pride for them, which I get. Little brother beating big brother type of thing. It totally checks out.

Don't forget this, Canada: the United States took your sport and made it our plaything.

Seven teams are in Canada now. There are eight teams (Anaheim, Dallas, Florida, Los Angeles, Phoenix, San Jose and Tampa Bay) in areas where freezing conditions are an oddity.

Not since 1993 has the Stanley Cup been won by a Canadian team.

Enjoy your gold, though.

(Of course this means that a Canadian team will win it this year, because a dork behind a keyboard got bleepin' mad about the Olympics. I kinda hope it happens because this was totally unfair.)


It's not lost on me how lucky I am that these are the things I spend my time thinking and worrying about. I am privileged beyond my knowledge.

What's most fun is having all of you lovely people to talk about sports with. To commiserate with. To have a whole lot of bleepin' fun with.

I greatly enjoy interacting on Twitter and in person about all things hockey. Most of you have tremendous senses of humor about all this and all of you are passionate. If I could give each of you a toaster I totally would.

One day, perhaps, the Capitals will be amazing. One day, there might be a cup for all the hours of time we've watched.

You have to believe that there's a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. You have to believe that because if you stop, you'll quit following the Caps.

And then you'll miss out on all our fun.

Don't miss the fun. And definitely don't be that person who comes back around when the Caps win it all.

We're watching, and we'll think you're lame. If that even means anything.