Thumb Drama

Scene: TWC Headquarters.  Katebits is practicing the viola.

*doorbell rings*  Katebits puts down her viola and answers the door to find Paul Gaustad standing at the door holding a viola case.  One thumb is bandaged.

Katebits: (sternly) Goose!  I thought we discussed this!  No viola lessons until your thumb is healed!

Goose: (angrily) HONK!

Katebits: I don’t care how much you love the viola!  I don’t know why, but apparently you need your thumb to play hockey.

Goose: HONKHONKHONK!

Katebits: I asked Lindy, but he said no, you can’t just tape your stick to your glove so you don’t have to use your thumb.  You have no choice Goose!  You HAVE to let your thumb heal.  I’m sorry, no viola lesson today.

Goose: HONK?

Katebits: No.  No Guitar Hero either.

Goose: (quietly) ….honk?

Katebits: Of COURSE, you can still watch Project Runway tomorrow!  Just don’t use your thumb to work the remote control.

Goose: HONK HONK HOOONK!

Katebits: Oh, I couldn’t agree more.  Kenley is a total cow.

(Katebits and Goose high five [with Goose’s healthy hand of course] and then Goose waddles away home.)

The End

Making Peace With the Slug

Sunday night after the game I couldn’t resist, and I bought this sweatshirt in the Sabres shop.  I’ve been wearing it all day long, and with every passing hour my love for my new zip-up hoodie deepens.  You know how some stuff just grows on you until you suddenly can’t believe you ever considered your life full and happy without it?  That’s how it’s been with this sweatshirt today.

In the year and a half since I became a Sabres fan, I have purchased almost no Sabres gear.  I don’t naturally gravitate towards logo-ed apparel*, and jerseys just don’t light my fire, so resisting the call of Sabres merchandise has been quite easy.  (Please don’t misunderstand me. I think YOU look extremely foxy in your Sabres jersey.  Extremely foxy.  I just don’t like wearing them myself.)  Add all that to the fact that the Sabres logo is a weird little yellow smear, and I just haven’t been inclined to buy Sabres stuff.

This sweatshirt is the first Sabres item that made me think, “I really HAVE to have that.”  Shockingly, my favorite feature of the sweatshirt is the little slug on the upper left arm.  Part of my problem with the Sabres jersey (on me) is that I hate having a gargantuan slug galloping across my boobs, but in a smaller size on my arm, I find him quite charming!  I don’t know why I never noticed him before.  It’s like I suddenly woke up and realized I’m in love with my best friend.

He’s been here all along.

Listen, I’ll be as glad as the next Sabres fan when the organization phases out the slug and returns to the glorious vintage jerseys, but I do have some affection for the slug.  Sure, he’s homely, but he represents one of my favorite things in the world, and that makes me almost kind of like him.  At the game on Sunday I was trying to explain my non-hatred of the slug to Heather and she said, “Well, that makes sense.  You’re a slug-era fan,” and it’s true, I really am.  To me the slug represents the giddy joy of discovering hockey.  People are speculating that the new third jersey is the beginning of the end of the slug, and so I’m going to try to enjoy the little fella while I can.

*I honestly don’t think there is a sweatshirt in the world that could have convinced me to buy something adorned with the old goat head logo.  That guy was hideous.

Live Hockey (and the Bills are never going to lose again)!!!

First of all, and most importantly: Bills, you kick ass.  Props.

*****

Tonight, thanks to the fabulous (and presumably handsome) Keller, Heather and I found ourselves at the Sabres/Wild preseason game.  Our seats were quite snazzy- certainly much better than the nosebleeds I usually scrounge up. The good thing about the 300s is that you can see the entire rink clearly.  The good thing about the 100s is that you can see Goose all the players clearly.

Keller has foxy seats.

The game was a bit of a snooze (and the Sabres lost), but the view was excellent, and the company was a hoot.  Heather and I will be attending a handful of games together this season, and if the following conversation is any indication, I think we’ll make good game buddies:

Kate: Wait.  Weber is number 4 now?  That’s sad.  I miss Nolan Pratt.

Heather: Yeah.  I don’t know how I feel about this.  I liked Weber as 34.

Kate: Well, 4 is a MUCH better number, so I can’t say I blame him.

Heather: I don’t like single digit numbers.

Kate: WHAT?! I LOVE single digit numbers.  I think 4 is a PHENOMENAL number.

Heather: The only single digit I like is 5.

Kate: Well, you’re an idiot.

Heather: Well, you’re a beeyotch.

Sabretooth stood in our aisle for the national anthem. I had a hard time concentrating on anything else with Sabretooth so near.  How could I possible look away?

With his paw to his heart during the anthems.

Speaking of Sabretooth and “ridiculously cute,” the Sabres are now selling the best souvenir EVER- foam Sabretooth paws!  I’m a big fan of the entire foam finger genre, but I am particularly fond of foam paws.  I have a foam claw paw from the Wild game that I attended over Christmas last year, and it’s one of my most prized possessions.  I’m not kidding.  I’m looking at it right now.  I totally love it.  The Sabretooth paws are even BETTER because instead of ferocious claws, it’s just has that nice round Sabretooth paw print.  Very friendly and cute.  There were a couple of guys a few sections over who had them and Heather and I were totally preoccupied with watching them high five with the paws whenever something good happened on the ice.  After the game was over we hightailed it to the gift shop, but they were sold out already.  Note to the Sabres organization: we demand foam Sabretooth paws, and we demand them NOW.

Okay, about the game:

– Good Max/Bad Max was in full effect.  Max was all over the place, being speedy and awesome and generally enigmatic.  I was either in love with him or hating him all night- nothing in between.  Mostly loving him though.  I predict that Max is going to have a great year if only so the people of Buffalo have something to freak out about come July 1st 2009.

– The less said about Staffy the better.  I still believe.

– Nathan Gerbe is reDONKulously small but he’s got moxie to spare.  He’s got tinytude, if you will.

– I might be a little bit in love with Craig Rivet.

– Patrick Lalime seems like a perfectly serviceable backup NHL goalie.  I felt generally comfortable with his play all evening and he made a few nice stops.  The shootout felt a little less secure, but that might just be my scars from watching all those terrible shootouts last season talking.  Those wounds might never heal.

– Pommerdoodle started the game with the C but after the second intermission it was gone.  This prompted Heather and I to discuss a scenario in which the C is attached with velcro so that Lindy can rip it off the chests of errant Sabres during the intermission if he is suitably disgusted with their play.  I think the idea of a sad, lonely C on the floor of the lockerroom is quite amusing.

– Goose jammed his thumb punching a Wild player repeatedly in the face.  Totally worth it.

-I feel very strongly that the teams should wears whites at home.  I really like the Wilds’ red and green jerseys, and I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to see them tonight.

– About all these Wild prospects that I was asked to keep an eye on…….I had a hard enough time keeping track of the unfamiliar Sabres prospect, much less the Wild prospects.  I’m afraid I have very little too report about the Wild players.  They seemed to be mucking up the neutral zone quite nicely, but beyond that, I don’t have much to report, EXCEPT for the charmingly named “Clutterbuck”.  Yesterday in the comments, ms. conduct asked me to keep a particularly close eye on Clutterbuck figuring that he might be easy to spot because of his cartoonish name.  Well, not only did we SPOT Clutterbuck, but we spotted a CLUTTERBUCK SIGN.  How ridiculous is THAT?  There was a woman in the arena holding a sign that said simply, “Cal Clutterbuck”.

We’re thinking the sign holder must be his mother or something.

As for Clutterbuck’s play, I was far too busy trying to take a picture of his sign and coveting foam Sabretooth paws to really notice.  Sorry!

– Pre-season hockey is very fun.  It’s downright relaxing.  Thanks again to Keller for the tickets!

Good Times

I am blogging on my phone from good seats at the arena! It’s a technological miracle!

Heather B sends her regards.

3 Things

1.  Rest in Peace Paul Newman.  Here’s to a classy, classy superfox *lifting diet coke in a toast*.

2.  The last couple days have been an interesting reminder of one of the big reasons I like sports.  I have always tended towards the “fretful” when it comes to world events and politics.  For about a week my stress levels have been steadily increasing.  Mass chaos in the banking industry + a presidential election = a freaked out Katebits.  A few days ago I was sitting on the couch feeling generally fearful so I decided to take a break from anxiously pondering the future of the world to do my football picks for the week.  Ten minutes later, I felt totally fine.  Not stressed at all.  Thinking about football teams I know nothing about cured me of my anxiety, at least for a few minutes.  I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating:  I am constantly amazed at what an effective tool sports are for deflecting unnecessary stress.  I have two choices this weekend.  I can either stress out about $700 billion dollars and a bunch of lunatics in Washington, OR I can stress out about whether a titan can beat a viking.  I don’t seem to have room in my pea-brain for both.  If I thought there was a single benefit to be gained from stressing about $700 billion dollars I would go for it, but as far a I can tell, that situation is WELL out of my control.  Football is out of my control too, but at least it’s amusing.  As we approach the election I have a feeling I am going to rely more and more on sports to keep me sane, which is of course, BAT SHIT CRAZY.  Heh.

(Note:  Fear not, TWC shall remain a politics-free zone, now and forevermore.  Please, no politics in the comments.)

3.  Tomorrow I won’t be able to watch the football game, but I WILL be able to attend the Sabres preseason game versus the Wild.  Thanks to the fabulous Keller, Heather B and I will be seeing the game from right behind the shoot-twice goal.  Keller has moved to St. Louis so he can’t use his preseason tickets and he graciously donated them to us.  WOOOOOOO!!  You can expect a full (redonkulous) report.

Almost Here

I Heart Staffy

I didn’t watch or listen to the game last night, but several people have told me that Drew Stafford was particularly sucky.  These people clearly do not know what they are talking about.

There is no way Staffy could be that bad at hockey, because look at his new yearbook photo!

Love it.

If this isn’t a brain eating zombie trying to pass as a warm blooded mortal, I don’t know what is.  I showed this picture to Schnookie last night and her response was, “Oh my god, a widely-grinning Staffy is the last thing you see before your brains get eaten!  RUN AWAY, TEAM PHOTOGRAPHER!  RUN!!!!!”

I think this picture is evidence that Drew Stafford has matured a lot in the last year.   He has finally realized that he has to at least TRY to hide his zombie-ism.  I, for one, find his eagerness to fit in very endearing.  While he’s had a rough training camp thus far, I fully anticipate that his new attitude will translate to the ice. This is obviously the photo of a brain eating zombie who is prepared to do whatever it takes to win.

Staffy is going to have a great year.  Mark my words.  (And my words are unusually valuable right now.  Keep in mind that I have recently won both gay bingo AND the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra’s football pool.  I know how to win and I know what I’m talking about.  I’m sure you agree.)

Shorthanded Goals Against Make Me Sleepy

Hey y’all, why don’t you go check out Part II of the ModFan Season Preview?  Git!

hockeyhockeyhockeyhockeyhockeyhockey

Just in case you were starting to worry that my newfound love of football was going to take over this blog, I can happily report that tonight I chose to listen to pre-season hockey on the radio over watching Monday Night Football on television.

The dulcet tones of Mr. Rick Jeanneret were like music to my hockey deprived ears.  I love Rick so much that sometimes I think about you guys who grew up listening to him, and it scares me to imagine how much YOU must love him.  I wasn’t entirely prepared for how happy the sound of his voice would make me tonight.

The good news is, HOCKEY IS BACK!  The bad news is, the Sabres kind of blew.  No matter!  This game didn’t count, and almost none of the real Sabres were even playing.

(This Ryan Miller kid is kind of a screw-up though, right?  How many more years do we have to deal with him on the team?  [Juuuuust kidding.  We love ya’ Crunchenheimer {but please don’t suck all year (I don’t want to have to hate you [but I’d probably still love you even if you did suck {probably (maybe not though [it’s hard to say])}])}]).

(That was way too many parentheses.)

(I apologize.)

3 Things

1.  I (hiLARiously) won the football pool at work, and in doing so immediately became the Annoying Chick In The Football Pool Who Wins Despite Knowing Nothing About Football.  I promise to represent the title well during my reign.  I swear to be as obnoxious as possible as I taunt my coworkers with my awesome decision making system which involved following internal debate: “Who would win in a fight, a bronco or a saint?  A saint has pious righteousness on his side, but a bronco has four wheel drive and optional leather seating.  Hm.   I think the bronco would win easily.”  Apparently it was my pick of the Jaguars over the Colts that clinched my win, which is kind of cool because that was a pick I actually tried to get right by using adult reasoning- that reasoning being, “Wasn’t everyone all worked up because the Bills beat Jacksonville last week?  Jacksonville is supposed to be good. I think the Jags have to win eventually…..and Payton Manning has a bitch face……plus, a colt is no match for a jaguar.”

2.  Bucky Gleason wrote a column (which I refuse to link to because TBN doesn’t keep their archives up and I hate having dead links in my posts) under the headline, “Difficult to be inspired by lackluster performance”.  Really, Bucky?  I think it’s easy.  The column is vintage Bucky.  First he begrudgingly praises the team for the win, then he sagely and condescendingly dispenses advice to the fans to avoid enjoying the win too much, and then he grumps (with juuuust enough validity) about the the mistakes from first the three quarters, and then he completely ignores the rather remarkable manner in which Trent Edwards comported himself in the final ten minutes.  You know, I’m not sure Bucky “gets” sports.  If I can’t enjoy a fun come-from-behind win in which our rookie quarterback looks like a grizzled vet, why on earth would I even be watching football?  I know it’s not Bucky’s job to be a fan, but is it really his job to be a total pill?  I’m concerned that it is.

As far as the headline goes, I happen to have an email from Bucky in my inbox archives in which he personally explains to me that the columnists don’t write their own headlines.  I’ve always been confused about this little bit of publishing protocol.  It seems to me that the headline is rather important and that journalists would feel strongly about how their articles are perceived “at a glance,” but I’m sure there is a good reason that a third party writes the newspaper headlines.  I can only assume that if Bucky could have written his own headline it would have read, “Please Send Help.  The Buffalo News has Kidnapped Me and Locked Me in a Dark, Dank Basement.  I Have No Contact With the Outside World.  I’m Totally Out of Touch.  Please Call the Authorities.”  No wonder TBN insists on writing his headlines!  Poor Bucky!

3.  ModFan is back!  Please go read our Eastern Conference Season Preview right away!  (If you are horrified by the thought of reading another season preview, fear not.  Our team-by-team season preview has a rather pleasant twist:  It’s very short.)