The Ecstasy and the Agony

The Ecstasy

That Leafs game was some seriously good times. Leafs fans are annoying mothereffers, but the arena was undeniably  amazing on Friday. The Leafs fans added to our experience tremendously. At times (like, every time the Sabres scored) it was AWESOME to have so many Leafs fans there, and times I wanted to light myself on fire with rage, but the entire night was passionately experienced, which is more than I can say for most games at FNC these days.

In the past I’ve avoided Leafs games (because, as previously mentioned, Leafs fans are annoying mothereffers, but also because you can completely rip them off by selling them your tickets), but Friday was a real eye opener. Leafs games are high risk, high reward. If the Sabres had lost it would’ve been playoff-loss-level misery, but when they won it felt like no win could ever feel as good as that win. Sometimes it’s good to just lose your head during a game, and the Leafs game certainly provide plenty of opportunity for that. (Along those lines, about halfway through the game, while watching a drunk, moronic nearby Leafs fan stand up in a sea of Sabres fans [during a commercial break, no less] and do that infinitely retarded thing where he grabbed the logo on his jersey to “taunt” other fans, Robin suddenly blurted out, “I’m gonna to punch that guy.” And for a brief moment, I think she meant it. After the moment passed, we laughed REALLY hard about that one, because of all the people I know, Robin might be the least likely to punch someone at a sporting event. The fact that she was tempted to punch someone speaks volumes about Leafs fans and also about our level of emotional commitment to the game. We went all in on Friday, and our reward was sweet.)

Robin and I sit low in the shoot twice side, so the Leaf fan presence wasn’t that horrendous (visiting fans tend to gravitate more towards the other end), but I know that my friend Roman didn’t fair as well. He estimated that up in his section in the 300s, the ratio was 70/30, Leafs fans. Ew! Poor Roman! But down in our end, we were mostly okay. In fact, the closest guy to us in a Leafs jersey turned out to be a Sabres fan who had lost a bet. We discovered this when, to our complete confusion, he turned around to high five us after the Sabres’ second goal.

Me: (high fives a dude in a Leafs jersey) WTF, dude? (points to his Leafs jersey)
Him: (shakes his head sadly) It’s okay. I’m a Sabres fan. I lost a bet.
Me: Ouch. Does your skin burn in that thing?
Him: Yeah, it does.

There was a moment late in the third period when I remember thinking to myself, “No matter what happens with the final score, I need to remember how fun this game has been.” Thank you Hockey Gods, for not testing my resolve on that pledge.

I had so much fun on Friday that after the game ended I was tempted to make a pact with the devil: As long as the Sabres manage to beat the Leafs at FNC forever and for all eternity, I don’t care what else happens. But thank GOD the devil wasn’t taking my calls on Friday night because the VERY next day, I was whistling a different tune…

The Agony

I was playing a concert Saturday night, so I didn’t see much of the game. But I saw enough. I saw enough to say definitively that the Sabres are in deep doo-doo. If Ryan Miller is going to play like crap, and half the roster is going to be injured, and the other half of the roster is going to be Roy and Stafford… the Sabres are in serious trouble. Not, like, cute “we just need time to gel, but it’s okay because we beat the Leafs last night” trouble, but real, “OMG. This season will be lost,” trouble.

The thing is, the more I think about it, the more I agree with Ted Black. We need to be patient. It’s not that I think that if we’re patient this roster is suddenly going to be good, or that Lindy Ruff will suddenly figure out how to make Roy and Stafford stop sucking, or that everything will be better once Tyler Myers and Brad Boyes come back. I just think it’s going to take time to fix this team. The fix is way more complicated than we want to believe.

Personally, until Ted Black and Terry Pegula give me reason to feel otherwise, I trust them to make measured, intelligent changes. It probably wasn’t what I would’ve done (no one will ever accuse me of being intelligent and measured), but keeping Lindy and Darcy after the ownership change was the intelligent, measured thing to do. The problem is that right now, in this situation, there isn’t a measured, intelligent change available. A new coach wouldn’t suddenly heal the injured players, and a new GM couldn’t make new cap space appear out of thin air.

As longtime readers of this blog know, I’m not one of those, “Lindy should have a job for life,” people. I’ve called for his head before. Right now, I don’t think the problem is coaching, and even if I did, there is just NO WAY Lindy should be fired while his forward lines look like this.

As for Darcy: So far, this season is looking like a perfect storm of suck for Darcy. I’m not willing to argue that any of his off-season signings were disastrous on their own (okay, maybe Leino, but… I still want to believe in Leino, so dammit, that’s what I’ll do), but the cap situation is h-o-r-r-i-b-l-e. The Sabres have exactly zero space under the cap right now and they are in injury hell.  The lack of cap space puts Darcy in a severely weakened position when it comes to tinkering with the current roster. Even when the plan was “cross your fingers and pray everyone stays healthy,” Darcy was still walking a very dangerous line with his cap space, but now, with all these call ups, he’s in serious trouble. This is the very definition of cap mismanagement, and in my opinion, depending on how the season shakes out, it’s a fire-able offense. But again, we’ll see.

It’s annoying as HELL to admit it, but it’s pretty difficult to fairly assess the roster with this many injuries. The intelligent, measured thing to do is to wait and see. Ted is right.

It seems to me that a lot of Sabres fans reacted to Pegula by upping their expectations dramatically without much consideration for how these new expectations could be met. I upped my expectations too, but unlike in the past, I now have faith that Sabres ownership is going to keep trying. When things don’t work out, Pegula and Ted Black aren’t going to do nothing. No, the first two and a half months of the 2011/12 season have not gone spectacularly well, but, I fully believe that they’re going to keep trying. So, if Darcy and/or Lindy need to go, I think sooner rather than later they will go. I couldn’t say that about the previous ownership.

Instead of feeling angry about the roster, I feel oddly pacified this season. It never made sense to me that Pegula could waltz in and be all, “I am a billionaire, and I want a Cup! BEGIN WINNING CUPS, BUFFALO SABRES.” That would’ve been too easy.

I believe that when Pegula took over, he gave Darcy Regier just enough rope to hang himself. Whether or not Darcy’s summertime moves have doomed him is still up in the air. I like Darcy as a person, and I love it when the Sabres are successful, so I hope things turn around here, but if they don’t, I do trust that things will change.

For now, we wait.

(But if Darcy wants to get to work trading Roy and/or Stafford, that’d be fine by me.)

The Obligatory Tantrum

There’s losing, and then there’s having-the-guy-who-ran-your-goalie-basically-call-you-a-bunch-of-pansies-while-everyone-in-the-NHL-nods-their-head-in-complete-agreement. The Sabres opted for the latter last night, which is a shame because even good teams get creamed 6-2 every once in a while. A typical 6-2 loss is something we could handle with grace (I mean, not all Sabres fans could handle a 6-2 loss with grace, but most of the sane ones could), but a 6-2 loss AND allowing Milan Lucic to completely emasculate everyone both on and off the ice? NOT COOL, SABRES. NOT COOL AT ALL.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t watch much last night because I was playing a concert, so I’m not exactly in a position to analyze/throw-overblown-tantrums about this game. For the sake of this post I briefly considered watching the DVR recording this afternoon, but I quickly came to my senses. I mean… no. I watched 3/4th of the Bills game today, and that was quite enough soul-scorching suckiness for one Sunday afternoon. (BTW, thanks for nothing, Bills. Geez.)

But since when has a lack of, “watching the game,” or, “knowing what I’m talking about,” stopped me from loudly proclaiming my opinion? NEVER! That’s when! Why start today? So, here’s what I think, in convenient, easy-to-read bullet points.

• EFF YOU AND THE WHORE YOU RODE IN ON, MILAN LUCIC.
• Seriously Sabres, that was lame.
• Most people reading this blog know that I’m not a big fan of fighting in the NHL. In fact, if I had my way, fighting would be eliminated and instead of everyone freaking out about how so-and-so should’ve clobbered Lucic (which may or may not have led to success), we’d be freaking out about how HARD the Sabres defense SUCKS ASS.
• It’s not that I don’t think it would be satisfying to see someone clobber Lucic, but it seems to me that the best way to handle someone like him is to calmly score on the power play, and then WIN THE GAME. Then, after the game you can be all, “Yeah, that guy’s a dick. It’s a good thing we’re so much better at hockey than those clowns.” In my opinion, punching is not the only correct response in a situation like that. Winning convincingly also works. Sadly, instead of turning steely, the Sabres turned spastic, and everything went to hell.
• Although… I’d like to point out that the game did not immediately go to hell after Lucic’s hit. The Sabres played 14 minutes of decent hockey between the hit and when Boston tied it up, and another 6 minutes after that before the [feces] really hit the fan. There isn’t much evidence to suggest that the hit or the lack of “stepping up” lead directly to a team meltdown. It’s seems to me that playing terrible hockey was the Sabres biggest mistake last night.
• Last night I was reminded of Game Six of the playoffs when Mike Richards completely boarded Tim Connolly, thus providing the opportunity for the Sabres to SUCK ON THE ENSUING POWER PLAY IN HUMILIATING FASHION. (I think there might’ve even been a 5-on-3 involve with that play if my memory serves me right. [And my memory probably doesn’t serve me right because I was both drunk and extremely desperate to forget after Game Six.]) That play and the ensuing power play was where I think the Sabres lost that Flyers series. Again, I’m no proponent of hockey violence, BUT, in the absence of punching, you sure as hell better not get all scared and emo about your game. If the Sabres are going to get all, “hold me mommy, I’m scared,” every time something hardcore happens, they’re doomed to repeat Game Six forever. (Only, in the future it won’t be Ville Leino scoring against us in OT, because sadly, he plays for us now.)
• What I’m trying to say is this: You have two choices, Sabres. 1.) Be really good at hockey and make teams pay for being a-holes by winning, or 2.) Punch Milan Lucic into submission. (I’m not going to lie, punching Milan Lucic into submission sounds really hard to me too. I’d go with option #1 if I were you.)
• I have no idea what’s wrong with Tyler Myers (AGAIN), but now he’s getting his stink on Sekera, and HE MUST BE STOPPED. BENCH HIS SKINNY ASS, LINDY.
• And since we’re talking about the defense, you know who probably would’ve been willing to get his butt kicked by Lucic in the name of “revenge” last night? MIKE WEBER.
• We learned last night that the Sabres are a bunch of weenies, but despite the tone of this post, I don’t think it’s the end of the world. The season is still really young. The Sabres are still settling into the New World Pegula Order. Ryan Miller is still all wonky and not right (the hit to the head probably didn’t help with that). This was no ordinary loss. Losses of this magnitude don’t come around every day. Mid-November is the perfect time for a loss like this. If Lindy is really the coach that everyone believes he is, he’ll find a way to turn this loss into an overall win. A loss like this can galvanize a team. I’m not ready to predict that this loss will galvanize the Sabres into positive change, but I do believe it’s possible. This was, if nothing else, a gut-check game. Maybe the Sabres needed this humiliation and maybe (just MAYBE, I’m saying) it will ultimately do them some good. *fingers crossed*

You Know What?

Shaone Morrisonn IS kind of hot.

Right After the Game Ended I Wrote A Post, But It Was Full Of Swearing And Misery. I Don’t Want To See That Cranky Post In the Morning, So I Took It Down. Sadly, Blobby Is Going To Be Here In the Morning No Matter What, So I Figured, “What the Hell.” :(

*sob*

I Don’t Want To Talk About It

That game hurt my feelings.

Speechless

            
            
            
                        
            
            
            
            
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
            
            
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
            
Dude.            
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
            
            
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
            
Duuuuuude            
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
                        
            
            
            
That was awful.

Sabres vs. Thrashers, 3/14/09

Pregame

Remember me?  That chick who used to blog about the Sabres?   Well, I’m back baby.  Last week I meandered away from our little slug clad anti-heroes.  I just couldn’t care about them.  But then I went to the Panthers game.  My mission going into the arena was, “Don’t let them put you in a bad mood.”  I enjoyed that game immensely, and I think I probably would have enjoyed myself even if the Sabres had played themselves out of the playoff race.  A switch has been flipped in my approach to this season.  Frankly, I’m assuming they are going to miss the playoffs now, which sounds depressing on the surface, but in reality my new bad attitude has allowed me to enjoy hockey again.  The season is going to be over before we know it, and I might as well enjoy the games we have left.   It’s crappy hockey, but it’s still hockey.

Mood: Tired, dude!  I’ve been violing like it’s going out of style.  When I’m not playing the viola, I’m sewing little square scraps of fabric together.  My life is very glamorous.
Favorite Sabres: Let’s see, who is on this team again?  No, no, no NOT him, um, no, no, no, maaybe, no, no, oh HELL NO, no, nope, oooh!  Patrick Lalime!  Patrick Lalime is a hero, and don’t you forget it.
Least Favorite Sabre: Jason Pominville is just freaking me out now.
Prediction: Thrashers win 3-1.  Sorry.
Fabric representing my hope for this game: Black and gray plaid.  I have replaced the time I used to spend thinking about hockey, with time spent thinking about fabric.  I have a disease.  My name is Kate, and I’m addicted to looking at fabric online.  You can expect this blog to morph from nonsense about hockey to nonsense about fabric any day now. (Fabric and hockey are pretty much the same audience, right?)  Anyhoo, I’m predicting this game will be a boring old square of black plaid.

Black plaid isn’t really bad, it’s just a little lame.  Kind of like the Sabres.

After the 1st (1-0, Thrashers)

Mood: Unimpressed.  That was pretty uninspired.  The Sabres look tight, and they are being out worked by the Thrashers.
Favorite Sabre: Max.  I’ve had a weird burst of affection for Max since he’s returned from his injury.  It’s not like he’s been hugely effective or anything, but he often looks like the only Sabre on the ice who really gives a damn.  Sure, he usually just skates spastically around before taking a weird angle shot that deflects directly to the opposition, but whatever.  At least he looks like he’s trying.
Least Favorite Sabre: Jason Pominville is never scoring again.  I don’t think he’s even trying to score anymore.
Fabric representing this game so far: camouflage that appears in normal street clothes.

Not cute.

After the 2nd (3-1, Sabres)

Mood: Relieved.  I was getting worried that I was going to have to think of a fabric worse than camouflage and the very thought was making my head spin.  Also, WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Summary of events: First the Sabres were like, “Hm.  Is a diaper worse than camouflage?  Can a diaper even be considered fabric?  Isn’t a diaper something you make out of fabric?”  But then they were all, “Hey, let’s stop trying to think of a fabric uglier than camouflage and try to score some goals.”
Favorite Sabre: Maxim Afinogenov.  You know what?  Common sense be damned.  I love him.
Least Favorite Sabre: Still Pommers, but maybe slightly less so because he appeared to TRY to score at least once in that period.
Fabric representing this game so far:

after the first goal:  Lily Posy from Baskets of Flowers

Kind of prim, but still a cutie.

After the second goal: Bluebell Posy from Baskets of Flowers

oooooh.  KEY-UTE!

After the THIRD goal: AH09 Gold from (my beloved) Garden Party

Like a ray of sunshine, Max and Vanek team up for prettiness.

After the 3rd, OT, and a shootout (4-3, Thrashers)

Mood: Grossed out, and incredibly sad for Patrick Lalime.  Poor bastard.

Summary of Events: The Sabres give up a shortie to make it 3-2.  Jason Pominville fails to clear the puck with three seconds to go, and the Thrashers tie the game.  Then, somewhere in Edmonton, Ales Kotalik chuckles wryly as twenty million Sabres fail to score in the shootout.

Fabric representing this game: Cloth diaper.

Just be glad I chose a clean diaper.

Uh-oh

1st Power Play: Hm.  That…..wasn’t very good.

2nd Power Play: They seem out of sorts.  I guess Vanek’s jaw was an important part of the power play.  Bummer.

3rd Power Play: DUDE!  They NEED to score here.

4th Power Play: I’m getting scared now.

5th Power Play: *gentle crying*

6th Power Play: *loud sobbing*

7th Power Play: *stunned disbelief, and violent rocking back and forth in chair*

8th Power Play: Oh, COME ON!  SOMEONE NEEDS TO WAKE UP VANEK!  I DON’T CARE HOW MUCH VICODIN HE’S SWALLOWED TONIGHT, THE SABRES ARE NOTHING WITHOUT HIM!  GET HIM ON SKATES, AND PROP HIM UP!  DRILL THE BLOWHOLE!  THIS IS AWFUL!

9th Power Play: Hold me.

10th Power Play: *vomiting begins*

11th Power Play: *vomiting continues and crying begins anew*

12th Power Play: *vomiting and crying continue, and I begin threatening Sabretooth at knife point*

13th Power Play:

*finger hovering*

14th Power Play:

*Press*

15th-20 MILLIONTH Power Play:

Press press…..press…..presspresspress….press
presspresspresspresspresspresspresspresspresspresspresspresspress
Preeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssss

PRESS

_______________________

We = screwed

This is NOT the big beer talking….

That was brutal.  Like, claw-my-eyes-out-with-my-foam-Sabretooth-paw, brutal.

Sabres vs. Senators, 3/25/08

Pregame

Mood: Nervie McNerverson
Favorite Sabre: I’m going with the underappreciated Jochen Hecht.
Least Favorite Sabre: Don’t know.
Summary of thoughts: I should be practicing the viola right now, but instead I’m going to watch this hockey game.
Symphonic music representing this game: Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Johannes Brahms

This can go one of a few different directions. It can be infinitely enjoyable to play, but it can also feel like that dream where you suddenly realize you aren’t wearing any pants right before you have to give a big presentation at school.

After the 1st (1-0, Senators)

Mood: Fidgety.
Favorite Sabre: Mike Robitaille. You guys, I love Mike Robitaille. I know I’ve hinted at it before, but I want to make myself perfectly clear on this issue: Mike Robitaille is a crusty, cranky, shout-y, desk pounding, STUD MUFFIN, and of all the people we see on a regular basis on the Sabres broadcasts (included the Sabres themselves), I like Mike Robitaille the most.
Least Favorite Sabre: Is Vanek even playing tonight? At least Roy-Z was out there flopping around and hooking Senators right and left.
Summary of thoughts: I wonder if Mike Robitaille reads blogs? I bet he doesn’t even own a computer. He’s old school.
Symphonic music representing this game: Symphony No. 35, Mozart

Be spritely and charming, but whatever you do, don’t fuck up. But have fun! Smile! (Don’t fuck up.)

After the 2nd, (1-1)

Mood: non-suicidal
Favorite Sabre: Okay, fine. That was a pretty nice goal Roy-Z.
Least Favorite Sabre: I’m kind of not hating them right now!
Summary of thoughts: I feel like we should have scored 3 goals that period.
Symphonic music representing this game thus far: Don Juan, Richard Strauss

Dude. I’m working REALLY hard here. It might not sound very good, but you can’t fault my effort.

At the End (6-3, Senators)

Summary of thoughts: Fuck.
Music representing this game:

I do not recommend this piece. At all.