A few Random thoughts from the past couple days.
- After 2 great games, last game was a big step back. Ballard didn't play horrible but he wasn't the same as he was in the previous 2 games anyway. The Tootoo giveaway was bad, and being on the ice for the over time goal certainly didn't help and that was only 2 obvious problems with his game on Saturday night. I've pretty much convinced myself that AV will scratch him for Tuesday's game, because that's just the way he works. I hope I am proved wrong, but I doubt it.
- A Big shoutout to keepcalmcanucks for the picture at the top of this post. It is currently the background image on my blackberry as well. Make sure to check out their other stuff, it's great.
- I had a dream last night I was watching a Canucks/Predators game and the score was 0-0........going into the 4th overtime. This scares me, and maybe nightmare is a better word for it.
- Mason Raymond's 'Playoff Beard' makes me giggle.
- Finally, The US announced that they found and killed Osama Bin Laden last night, I stayed up late (late being past 830 when both my kids are in bed, this cold is kicking my ass) to watch President Obama give his speech and was flooded with memories of September 11th, so I'm going to leave you with something written by TSN's James Duthie. Something I read in his book and fell in love with and have read it so many times since I'm pretty sure I could recite it on my own.
The Final Toll
By James Duthie
September 15th, 2001.
We, in sports, seem determined to attach a number to everything, and the nightmare of September 11 is no different. The "Sports World," this imaginary bubble we supposedly live in, Lost LA Kings scouts Ace Bailey and Mark Bavis.
A Neat, tidy death toll, perfect for the tickers at the bottom of the screen. But wrong.
We also lost:
Soccer moms, and Little League dads, and big sisters who became corporate bigwigs, but could still whip you at 21 when they came home for Thanksgiving.
We lost star shortstops from the corporate softball league, and secretaries who didn't play, but always brought the oranges, and cheered like you were Derek Jeter.
We lost 11-year-old boys who could have been the next Jordan or Gretzky, and four-year-old girls who could have been the next Mia Hamm or Serene Williams, not to mention whom they could have become in the real world.
We lost fans.
We lost Mets fans and Yankees fans, and fans who couldn't stand either, which was a damn brave stance in New York.
We lost Jets fans who'd always go to the game with the same three buddies, each shirtless with a big green painted letter stretching from navel to neck. and no matter how cold, they'd remain skin to the wind, screaming: "J-E-T-S, Jets!" Even when it was 21-3 Colts.
We Lost bosses you couldn't stand, until they invited you to the box at the Rangers game and you both wore your Messier shirts, and forever bonded.
We lost girlfriends who left you alone on Sunday afternooons in the fall, or better yet, sat right next to you and cursed like a convict when Kerry Collins threw a pick.
We lost guys from the mailroom who'd spend a couple days' wages to sit in the nosebleeds with their girl at a Knicks game, and stockbrokers in Boss suits who'd spend a couple grand to impress a model with courtsides. But they'd cheer just as wildly. New York has great fans.
We also lost Red Sox fans, Bruins fans, Patriots fans, Capitals fans, Redskins fans, Wizards fans, and probably at least a fan or two for every team out there. Even the Bengals.
We lost fathers who'd take you to Mini-Putt and blowa six-inch gimme on 18 every time to lose by one, so he'd have to take you for ice cream yet again.
We lost mothers who somehow found time to run households with a bunch of kids, corporate divisions with hundreds of employees , and marathons in under four hours.
We lost grampas who took you out for your first round on a real course, and pretended they didn't see when you teed it up on the fairway.
We lost coaches who'd work 60-hour weeks, and then spend their Saturdays trying to teach six-year-olds to stay in position, and not all chase the same ball.
We lost entire lines from the Firefighters Shinny League.
And you know what the saddest part of all is? Sports was just a tiny part of who these peoples were.
We lost all of them.
Postscript: I was hosting TSN SportsCenter the day the planes hit the towers. We debated all day whether we should do a sports highlight show on a day when sports could not have mattered less in our world. We ended up doing a very sombre half-hour, mostly reaction to the tragedy from prominent athletes, and reports on how the various sports leagues would be cancelling games. I struggled for days to figure out how, and if, sports mattered in all this madness. Out of that, came this column.
Great isn't it? lets see how long until they make me take that down. Anyway, that's all I have for today, this 2 days between games is really screwing me up.