ihavenophone

I’ve been eying those sexy iphone contraptions for what feels like YEARS now.  I have already shown uncharacteristic restraint by not buying one the second they were invented, so after all this time, I feel fully entitled to one today.  A girl can only wait so long before decisive action must be taken.  The time for decisive action is now.

Just a bit of background about me and cell phones: About three years ago I went through a little phase where every other day I was losing, or destroying, or drowning a cell phone in Diet Coke.  It was a sad and expensive period of my life.  Finally, after three phones and hundreds of dollars, I walked into the Sprint store and said, “Bring me your absolute cheapest phone.”  Well, as things things tend to go, the cheapest most totalitarian phone in the world has survived being in my care for three full years.  This phone can’t even take pictures for goodness sakes.  It’s practically a ROTARY cell phone.  For three years now I’ve been using a caveman phone, and I’ve finally had enough.  I want the foxy iphone, and I want it now.

As luck would have it, today is the day that Apple is releasing the next generation of iphones.  “Hooray!” I foolishly thought to myself this morning. “I’ll just zip over to the Walden Galleria and scoop up an iphone and spend the weekend checking my email from exotic locations and sending saucy, borderline inappropriate text messages to everyone I know.  What a wonderful age to be alive,” I thought,  “It’s like magic!”

So, I went skipping off to the mall (and I HATE the mall, so any type of skipping towards it is an indication of a particularly zesty mood).

Duuuude.  There were, like, half a MILLION people waiting in line.  I know I probably should have seen this coming, but back in the dawn of time, I bought a first generation video ipod on the day they were released, and I waltzed right in and got my pod.  No waiting.  No lines. Just pleasantness.

The long and the short of it is that I have no iphone.  No iphone at all.

Hrmph.

A Cranky Post

I hate to say it, but hockey isn’t doing it for me right now. This shit is no good without the Sabres! I can’t get a good fix. The highs don’t last very long, and the lows leave me feeling irritated but without any of that satisfying “woe is me” emotional drama. Without the emotional drama, these loathsome non-Sabres teams are no good to me! They’re just genuinely annoying. Bah. Phooey. Flibberty-floo.

I’m looking forward to missing hockey when it’s gone. Missing it while it’s still here is upsetting.

Oh, and Blobby called. He says he’s changed. He finally got his accounting degree from University of Phoenix Online and he says he quit smoking. He paid his mother back all the money he stole, and he is trying to make things right with his blobfish children. He wants to “talk”.

Elation/Misery

I think it’s really disconcerting when a team fights back in the last moments of regulation to tie a game, only to lose in overtime. It seems like such a slap in the face to the otherwise perfectly good heroics. It’s happened twice in two games in the Wild/Avs series. I feel like this is the Hockey Gods’ way of telling us to live-it-up/pray-for-death while we can, because you just never know when you’re going to get punched-in-the-gut/shot-out-of-a-joy-cannon.

5 Confilicting Feelings At The End Of The Season

1. I’m really sad that the season is over. I’m going to desperately miss Sabres hockey during this long offseason. The Sabres in their current incarnation are….not that good, but I’m still going to miss them.

2. I was pretty stunned by how depressing it was to see the Sabres lose last night. I mean, we’ve spent the entire season on the outside of the playoff picture, and yet, there was a large part of me that was genuinely shocked to see the season come to an official end. I didn’t even realize how much I still believed that a miracle was on the way. My capacity for hope, enthusiasm, and optimism took me by surprise this year.

3. I believe the Sabres will be better next year, I really do, but over the last few days it has come into sharp focus how we as fans have no control over any of this, and it has left me questioning the whole enterprise. I’ve read a lot of analysis of the Sabres in the last two days. Some of it is angry, some of it is hopeful, some of it is “the sky has fallen” some of it is “just wait until next year”. For a gal who writes a hockey blog, I have remarkably little interest in dissecting the season. How odd that I’m willing to place so much emotion and energy into a team, but when it comes time to take a look at what happened, my entire attitude is “Meh. It is what it is.” What it “is” SUCKS ASS, but so does a lot of stuff. I’ve spent more time fretting about the Sabres this year than I ever thought possible, but it’s sort of a relief to discover I still have the ability to shrug my shoulders and say, “What are ya going to do? It’s just a game.” (Except for when I think about Crunchy’s upcoming free-agency. When I think too hard about Crunchy’s contract I can’t sleep….or breathe. Hee.)

4. Everyone keeps saying, “It’s good they will miss the playoffs. Squeaking in would have given them a false sense of accomplishment. This failure will be good for them in the long run,” and “They would have been demolished in the first round.” I absolutely agree with both of those statements…..and yet. I fell in love with hockey during the playoffs last year. I’m incredibly disappointed that I don’t get to see my first hockey team play in the playoffs. I know, I know, they would have been destroyed by either Montreal or Pittsburgh in the first round. I don’t care. I refuse to budge on this one. I feel personally cheated by the short season.

5. This team, for all of their faults and inadequacies is my first team, and no matter what, I will always remember them fondly. Several times this season I have tried to express my odd gratitude about the current state of the Sabres, and I’ve never felt I was able to make myself clear. I’ll try again: I jumped on board with this sport as a bandwagoner last spring, but this gnarly season has afforded me the opportunity to earn some baby stripes as a real fan. This was no kind of season for the bandwagon fan, and I’m proud to say that my love of hockey and of the Sabres only grew as the season progressed. Furthermore, I’m not sorry that due to this lost season, history will separate this Sabres team from the teams that came before. I like that any future Sabres success will be a result of something that happens in the future. I’ve missed a lot of Sabres hockey, but I guarantee, from now on, I’ll be there. Hopefully, the best is yet to come.

Let Go Buff-a-lo!

Uh-Oh

So, last week I had to kick Blobby out, because all he was doing was sitting on the couch, smoking cigarettes and drinking malt liquor. I only started hanging out with him because the Sabres were being so lame, and when the Sabres got a little spunky again, I realized I didn’t need someone as toxic as Blobby in my life. I kicked him to the curb.

Well, Blobby must’ve heard about the game last night, because look who showed up this morning all, “Don’t waste your time on the Sabres. Take me back. Lose the zero and get with a hero.”

At least he brought flowers.

Now, this has been a pretty rough season to become a Sabres fan, but even missing the playoffs is not enough to drive me back into the arms of a Sabre-less existence. I’m new, not stupid.  Hit the road, Blobby.

Sabres @ Canadiens 4/3/08

Pregame

Mood: Giddy. Scared. Hopeful. Amused.
Favorite Sabre: Poni Lydstad HE’S A HONKING MONSTER!
Least Favorite Sabre: Ales Kotalik, I’ve had it with you.
Summary of thoughts: I have truly enjoyed this crazy, last-ditch playoff push. For some reason, I find the Sabres’ tenuous survival both hilarious and exhilarating. Somewhere along the way, I must’ve lost my mind, because our 3.9% chance seems a lot less depressing than their 90.7% chance. If we squeak in, HOORAY! If we don’t, well, whatevs; the Sabres aren’t very good. Hopefully, we’ll make the playoffs. Hopefully, next season won’t suck this hard. Hopefully, Goose will get the game winning goal. Hopefully, Crunchy will use his laser death glare to keep the puck out of the net. Hopefully, Staffy ate some brains last night. Hopefully, Pommers will make lots of babies tonight (by increasing the population of Pominville, not by ravaging the female population of Montreal. Although, go ahead and do your worst Pommers. You’ve earned it.) Hopefully, the Hockey Gods will shine their sweet light upon us, and the Buffalo Sabres will live to play another meaningful game on Saturday.
Four objects representing out (nearly) 4% chance of making the playoffs:

Four donuts is better than no donuts, plus, they are good for post-loss binge eating.

After the 1st (2-0, Montreal)

Mood: Misery, misery, misery.
Favorite Sabre: The off-season.
Least Favorite Sabre: ALES KOTALIK IS A DISGUSTING, FILTHY HOOKER….AND NOT THE GOOD KIND.
Summary of thoughts: Remember forty-five minutes ago, when I was all “Tra la la hockey is wonderful la la la our situation is hilarious tra la la la tee da let’s just all join hands and be grateful we still have a 4% chance”? Remember that? THAT WAS THE CRACK I SMOKED FOR DINNER TALKING.
Four objects representing our (nearly) 4% chance of making the playoffs: four ants

Four ants are gross and totally unhelpful.

After the 2nd (3-0, Montreal)

Mood: It’s just a dull ache now.
Favorite Sabre: It’s one of those nights when I can’t tell the Sabres apart.
Least Favorite Sabre: Your mama. (No, not your mama. Calm down.)
Summary of thoughts: *sniff* (You guys, I don’t actually HAVE four donuts. That was just a googled image. What could be sadder than the Sabres not making the playoffs AND NOT HAVING DONUTS?)
Four objects representing our (nearly) 4% chance of making the playoffs: four invisible donuts

Worst. Donuts. Ever.

At the end (3-1, Montreal)

Summary of thoughts: That hurt a lot more than I thought it would.
Object representing our 0% chance of making the playoffs:

It’s so horribly beautiful.

Beside Myself

You guys, how are we going to TOLERATE the next ten games? I’ve made my peace with not making the playoffs, but boy, it’s rough watching them skate around dispassionately. Real rough. I’m scared that in these last ten games Crunchy is going to decide he doesn’t want to be a Sabre anymore.

I don’t want to fret; in fact, if it’s possible, I wouldn’t mind enjoying these last few games. How can I make this happen? Why hasn’t Lindy put Sabretooth in the game yet? I feel like Sabretooth is the obvious solution here.

I am open to any and all suggestions that will help me not want to throw my television out the window while watching the Sabres. Any ideas? I love Crunchy in his shower cap, but I don’t want to start associating it with searing frustration. That image is too sacred, you know? That image deserves better than to be trotted out every time the Sabres lose. I need a back-up plan.

Crunchys in Shower Caps

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to require a steady dose of Crunchys in shower caps today. These Crunchys are surely not enough, but it’s a start.

Sabres vs. Rangers 3/10/08

Tonight I’m going to do something I vowed I would never do again: I’m going to watch the Sabres game on a DVR delay. I have viola related activities scheduled for 3 out of the next 4 game nights. It’s hard to write about games that I don’t watch, so, for the good of the blog (and for the bad of my mental health), I’m going to absorb the carnage “live”. Then I’ll share my slowly unfolding horror with you, starting at about 9:oopm. Doesn’t that sound like fun for everybody?

Feel free to leave spoilers/rants/raves in the comments. I’ll be in a media blackout until I’m all caught up.

Pregame

Mood: Good! I’ve been rehearsing beautiful music with good friends. Life is good.
Favorite Sabre: Aww, who’s a cuter captain than Pommerdoodle? No one. That’s who.
Least Favorite Sabre: Thomas Vanek. Thomas, you made me a promise, and my faith in your ability to deliver is starting to wear thin. It’s time for a little less “slag-faced whore” and a lot more “future of the Sabres”.
Animal representing my hopes for this game: Hm. This is a tough one. Thanks to Eliot Spitzer, I’ve got high-priced escorts on the brain, so I’m going to go with that. I’m going to be really generous and say that my hope is represented by Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”.

She’s cute, but she’s probably got cooties.

After the 1st (1-1)

Mood: Unimpressed.
Favorite Sabre: Pommerdoodle is the only Sabre I trust these days. The dude is such a steady little puppy.
Least Favorite Sabre: Staffy and Millsie, I love you both, but seriously, you suck.
Animal representing my hope for this game: Sigh. Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigolo

This game is not even remotely funny, you guys.

After the 2nd (2-2)

Mood: I’M ALL WORKED UP!
Favorite Sabre: I’m sticking with the Doodle.
Least Favorite Sabre: I’m still kind of pissed at Staffy. I think Lindy might be too. Has Staffy been benched, or is he just being invisible?
Whore representing my hope for this game: Thomas Vanek, I so want to love you!

Oh sure, he’s a whore. But he’s OUR whore.

At the End (3-2 SO, Rangers)

Mood: So, so sad.
Favorite Sabre: Pommers, you are so easy to root for.
Least Favorite Sabre: Staffy, have you been eating enough brains?
Summary of thoughts: *sniff*
Whore representing my hopes for the playoffs: I really don’t want to do this, but I’m sorry, the Sabres have left me no choice….

It’s not pretty, folks.

UPDATE: Okay, I’m going to depart from the format because I’m don’t feel ready to quit bitching about this game. All of our defensemen are broken, which might not matter because we are running out of time anyway, but still. Poor Pratt and Toni Tone Tony had to play, like, 735 minutes tonight. I feel like this game was the sum of all fears. The Sabres are broken, and down and out. Bucky Gleason gets to gloat. Chris Drury is smug. The crazies get to rant on WGR. Crunchy seems worn out and worn down. Getting to the playoffs will require a near miracle.

BUT, Goose did look very cute in his rally helmet. It’s not nothing, I suppose. Plaintive HONK! (I’m not sure how straight men and lesbians can tolerate sports on nights like tonight.)

Ouch

Okay, I have felt many things after many games, but that loss actually hurt my feelings.

I am never going to speak of my bad-luck-iness on this blog again. I ask that you do the same. A fan’s bad mojo is between herself and her Hockey God. It’s intensely personal. I ask that you respect my privacy during this trying time. Thank you.

(In lieu of cards and flowers, please consider making a donation to “Ryan Miller’s Home For Wayward Unlucky Hockey Fans”. Ryan’s in-patient program has already provided immeasurable comfort to me during this dark time, and I’m confident that by sticking to his 30-step recovery program, my luck will be rehabilitated, and eventually, I’ll once again experience the joy of a live Sabres win.)