I've Seen Just About Enough of This

The most famous man in Canada, about to get even more famous.

Voiceover: "If you haven't been watching the NHL Game of the Week on NBC, you've missed a lot!"

[Cue 15 solid seconds of Sidney Crosby highlights]

Every NHL game NBC has aired since the Winter Classic this season has included the Penguins. (And that's only because the NHL wants to spread the Classic dough around; the Pens played in the first one, natch.) They're the defending Stanley Cup champions, and Crosby is the best player in the world in my opinion, but if you believe the NHL is being marketed as a one-man league, you may want to stock up on sedatives. I couldn't have imagined how it's even possible, but I think it's about to get even worse.

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In today's overtime, when Team Canada made a quicker adjustment to four-on-four play and started to really dominate Team USA, I let this unfortunate defeatist thought cross my mind: "If Canada wins this, there are a couple players I wouldn't mind seeing score the gold medal-clincher." Hmm...

I'm a Flyers fan and Mike Richards is my favorite player in the NHL, and, sure, it'd be great to see him become a national hero...

How about Brenden Morrow? I'm also a Stars fan and it'd be great to see him gain a legendary profile and thereby raise the profile of the Stars north of the border. And he's been really good these past two or three games...

Drew Doughty, maybe? He's an incredible prodigy* and one of the best defensemen on the planet even though he just turned 20 years old. The added attention he'd get would be some kind of validation for the outstanding tournament he's played.

*Such a prodigy, in fact, that he was the best defenseman in the Canadian Junior leagues two years ago and was drafted second overall in the NHL Entry Draft despite having been born in December. If you have no idea what this signifies, read Malcolm Gladwell's "Outliers." Actually, read it anyway.

And then, Mike Emrick: "Crosby scooooores!!"

FUCK ME. Anyone but Crosby.

As my old man likes to explete every so often, "Shitfire!"

He released the shot so fast, I didn't even anticipate the scoring chance. Neither did Ryan Miller, apparently, as the shot -- which I'd assumed was a laser up under the crossbar on the short side -- actually beat him right along the ice.

NHL fans in the States don't really know Paul Henderson -- he played parts of 13 seasons in the league, spent part of his prime in the WHA, played mostly for lousy teams, and cracked 30 goals twice -- but he's a national hero in Canada for scoring the series-winning goal against the USSR in the Summit Series in 1972. His is most certainly a household name in Canuckistan.

(Back then, when Western professionals weren't allowed to play in the Olympics, these series were the only events in which the best players from Canada or the U.S. could play against the best from the Eastern Bloc -- so they were a huge deal. In the Olympics in '72 and '76, the Soviet Union sent professional hockey players who were officially paid by the Red Army, which was permitted; Canada wasn't allowed to send professional players paid by private interests like the NHL, so they sent no hockey team at all. Imagine that -- Canada claiming ownership of the game, yet not even participating in the Olympic hockey tournament.)

In 1972, the biggest star and best player in the NHL was one Robert Gordon Orr of Parry Sound, Ontario. For each of the previous three seasons, he had won both the Hart Trophy as league MVP and the Norris Trophy as the league's best defenseman, a feat that is astounding once, ludicrous three times, and about 0.0000001% short of impossible three times in a row. In 1970 he became the first -- and still only -- defenseman to win the Art Ross Trophy as the league's leading scorer. Then and now, every hockey fan on Earth knows quite well of Bobby Orr's exploits.

Orr was injured and didn't play at all in the '72 Summit Series, but just imagine for a second that he, not Henderson, had scored the clinching goal against the surly, black-hearted Soviets.

Could Orr possibly be more recognized and celebrated than he already is? I honestly don't know. Probably fodder for a conversation that will either empty the Lakewood Landing within mere moments and/or lull everybody within earshot into a deep slumber.

But I think we're about to find out just how saturated media coverage of a hockey player can possibly be. Even though Crosby was pretty close to a non-factor throughout the Olympic tournament (faceoff prowess, a shootout goal vs. Switzerland, and a late goal in the preliminary-round loss vs. Team USA), the gold-clincher, in a way, validates the celebration of All Things Sid that the NHL on NBC is.

Sidney Crosby strides the Earth as a colossus. I, for one, am going to try to get the jolly hell outta the way.

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All that aside, a hearty congratulations from T!!! to Team USA. I thought a Bronze Medal was the absolute best accomplishment this team would be able to eke out, and they played brilliantly. The roster composition I hated was proven astute, as was Ron Wilson's coaching.

Hopefully, like the Miracle On Ice, this outstanding performance drew attention from sports fans who never much cared about hockey, and they'll start attending some NHL games and tune in to NBC's Penguins Game of the Week. (Or, God forbid, try to find fuckin' Versus on their TV dial. Hope they don't have DirecTV!) And hopefully, some American kids are starting to dream that one day they might be the next Ryan Miller, or Patrick Kane, or Zach Parise.

By at least reaching the Gold Medal game, Team USA -- the youngest in the tournament -- got the maximum amount of TV exposure for their games... just without the post-Games victory parade past every American media outlet. The Olympics, unlike other sporting events, allow for degrees of success; there aren't three Stanley Cups made from decreasingly valuable metals. And this was an unequivocal success for Team USA.

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Finally, a Gold Medal game story apropos of nothing:

Early in the game, my friend Bill asked me, "You think Ovechkin is watching this game?"

I thought about it and said, "Nah, I think it'd be too painful for him. Plus, no one on the Capitals is on either of these teams."

An hour or so later, as the dust was clearing after the Golden Boy potted the winner, Bill says, "Well, if Ovechkin was watching this game, he's probably down one TV set."

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We've Come A Long Way

When Theo Epstein took over the General Manager's job of the Boston Red Sox (the first time - pre gorilla suit) the Boston Globe had a field day. The coverage went something like this: He's a 28 years old Ivy League graduate who never played baseball! He's just a boy! He's likes computers! He's going to fire all the scouts and buy a bunch of calculators. Rinse, repeat, republish.

Two World Series wins later the press isn't quite so quick to mock the guy, but that doesn't mean they'll stop appealing to reactionary fans who think RBIs are the bee's knees.

There's been an interesting discussion going on at Baseball Prospectus about how more useful stats can begin to infiltrate the media. Well, don't look now, peeps, but its happening. The Boston Globe is starting to get with the program. Last year's hiring of Peter Abraham who formerly covered the Yankees combined with the new blood of Amalie Benjamin has brought a new willingness to explore some of what might have previously been dismissed as computer nerditude.

Take yesterday's article on new shortstop Marco Scutaro by Peter Abraham. First Abraham spoke with Sox catcher Jason Varitek who consulted his famous folders on opposing hitter's tendencies. Varitek told him something, and then - and this is the crazy part - Abraham went and checked it with statistics from Fangraphs.com.

Here's the sequence:

“He made adjustments. He simplified his swing, and that allows him to cover more area of the plate,’’ Varitek said. “He got better as a hitter. From my perspective, there was a change in his mechanics and his approach and it paid off for him.

“He made those changes just as he became an every-day player and it worked for him.’’

The statistics bear that out. Scutaro had a .320 on-base percentage in his first six seasons in the majors, playing part-time for the Mets and Athletics. But when he was made a starter by the Blue Jays in 2008, it rose to .362 over the two seasons that followed.

Scutaro’s simplified swing improved his contact percentage (per the statistics at Fangraphs.com) and last season he had his career best on-base percentage (.379) and slugging percentage (.409).

Contact percentage? On-base percentage? Slugging percentage? Fact checking? That was published in the newspaper, people. I mean, wow. OK, sure, nobody reads the newspaper anymore, but still, that's some good reporting. Hell of a job.

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Its Cutt'n Day For Tomlinson, Westbrook

Wow. Didn't see that coming. Well LaDainian Tomlinson was gonna be kicked to the curb no matter what, but the Eagles just said good bye to Brian Westbrook. Its not like Westbrook had a huge cap number - I read somewhere its $7 million. A sad ending to a great career in Philadelphia.

Who are idiots going to draft in the first round of next year's fantasy football draft?
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Good Show, Wilbon. Seriously.

A few days ago I tried to give my opinion on the whole Tiger Woods situation. In retrospect, I feel I failed. I've always wanted to be a writer, and to some degree I am simply because I write on this blog, but I've always wanted to be a good writer, and at 34, I'm just not there yet. Maybe I'll get there one day, but I'm not there now.

For all the ridiculousness spouted by Michael Wilbon, and all the crap I've given him for it on this here series of tubes, I want to point out when I think he's done well. In his chat at the Washington Post's website on Monday, he did well.

The question isn't so important (he doesn't really answer it anyway), but here is Wilbon's take on Tiger and the media's coverage (its a long quote, but worth reading):

Michael Wilbon: I'm sick and tired of people in the media, my dear friends Boz and Sally [Washington Post writers who were mentioned in the question] included, acting like they are experts all the damn time on what's real or not, telling people how to act, what to do, what questions to answer, whom to sleep with. I'm tired of it. I'm offended -- and now I'm not talking about Boz or Sally--by people I KNOW to be philandering hypocrites going on television and talking about how Tiger should live his life when they've indulged in the exact same behavior. You can see it on every network, trust me. I've hung out with some of these guys (and women). I KNOW what they've done and how they live their lives. You would think this is the first guy in the history of America to have affairs. Men and women have been cheating on their spouses for the entire history of civilization, and now Tiger Woods...he's the guy! He's the one! His is the worst cheating in the history of the world? It's the most sickening media behavior I've ever seen and it has a lynch-mob mentality. I really shouldn't even talk much about it because I'm going to be so angry. And just to reiterate my position: Tiger Woods' behavior, like that of any philandering person, is between him and his family, and in his case because he allowed himself to be marketed in a certain way, some of his sponsors. It's none of my business, just like it's none of my business if one of my producers or editors or fellow reporters or my second cousin was philandering. That's probably my last word today on this because I've got the faces in my head of certain hypocrites who somehow feel that their cheating ways are okay and his aren't.

That's what I wanted to say the other day but couldn't. I'm still going to call Wilbon out when I think he needs it (not that he or anyone else is paying attention, but still), but that answer is so right on that it deserves a mention in a place usually reserved for name calling and poop jokes.

Good show, Wilbon.

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Ovechkin's Hit Hurts Jagr's Mom

(h/t to the great Puck Daddy for the screen shot)

Sure would be nice to show you a video of Alex Ovechkin crushing Jaromir Jagr during the Russia/Czech Republic Game a few days ago. Sadly, the International Olympic Committee (motto: We'll Tell You Our Motto For Five Bucks) has asserted a copyright claim blocking the viewing of the hit on these here series of tubes known as the interwebs.

F the IOC in the goat ass.

Still, the symbolism is dramatic. Ovechkin, the heart and soul of the new Rock The Red Caps, the team that leads the Eastern Conference in points and goals, the two time MVP, runs right into Jaromir Jagr, the heartless, soul-less center of the old half full arena Caps, the barely squeak into the playoffs if at all Caps, the trying to buy a Cup Caps.

And Ovie DESTROYED him.


Beauty hit, eh?

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Tiger Apologizes, Has Sex With Podium, Camera, Green Room Couch

Tiger Woods has so much money he couldn't possibly spend it all if he was started the charitable foundation, Gold Yachts For Drug Addicts. Everywhere he goes incredibly hot women try to have sex with him. OK, yes, he's married. If he's going to have sex with lots of women, he shouldn't have ever said "I do" (or had a kid). But marital infidelity is the only problem here.

The other day on ESPN (excuse: I was at gym) Scoop Jackson said, and I'm paraphrasing, 'I want Tiger Woods to say he is truly sorry for what he'd done but that isn't enough. He has to want to make real change in his life.'

Tiger Woods certainly owes his entire family an apology. If he wants to remain married to his wife he owes her somewhere in the neighborhood of a billion apologies, and one of those gold yachts wouldn't hurt either. But he doesn't owe Scoop Jackson shit. He doesn't owe me shit, and he doesn't owe you shit. He doesn't owe his fans shit, and he doesn't owe the companies that marketed him to us shit. If he wants to sleep with more women than Wilt Chamberlain, that's his (and the women he sleeps with) business.

This is a whole lot of manufactured moral outrage. The problem with Tiger's behavior is he's married, but it seems that problem may cease to exist soon enough. If Tiger wants to break Wilt Chamberlain's record, that's his business and ESPN, the fans, the newspapers, and everyone else should butt the hell out.

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Spring Training Begins, I Get Woody

(Photo from Boston.com)

Today is the first official day of Spring Training. This morning, pitchers and catchers reported to Fort Myers, Clearwater, Dunedin, and bunch of other semi-dinky suburban Florida towns for workouts, physicals and, we assume, jocularity.

Nothing gets the blood flowing quite like watching ball players put on official Spring Training uniforms (yours for only $99.99 at MLB.com) and official Spring Training ball caps (yours for only $26.99 at MLB.com), and run official Spring Training wind sprints (not available online) at full jogging speed - wouldn't want to pull anything *!coughMATSUZAKAcough!*. Its a sight to behold.

Its cloudy and 30 degrees in Philadelphia. The wind cuts through your jacket, and throws bits of snow from the several feet on the ground into your eyes. The clouds are coming in, and as usual, people are talking Eagles football. It picks me up to know somewhere its warm, somewhere the sun is shining, somewhere there is a breeze, and somewhere two guys are having a catch.

Baseball is coming, officially now, and it can't get here soon enough.

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Alyssa Milano's Ass Says, "Happy Valentine's Day!" With A Special Deal Just For You!

Today I went to the gym.

* pause for applause *

Thank you. You're too kind. If you ever go to the gym, especially if you go to the gym as infrequently as I do, the process of preparing for the gym can be fraught with peril. By peril I mean going to the gym often involves looking at yourself in the mirror, usually in a state of undress. This is vital because it provides the guilt with which to power yourself out the door.

I bring all this up because while preparing to go to the gym today I noticed my sweat pants, the ones I've had for about a decade now, are torn. This means I must buy new sweat pants. This is very good because it delays the gym trip.

So I went on line to look for new sweat pants. My go-to is Amazon.com. Because the Caps are doing so well, I searched for "Washington Capitals sweat pants". Can't have too much Caps crap. This is what came up:



You'll notice two things.

Thing 1: No sweat pants.
Thing 2: Alyssa Milano's ass.

While Thing 1 is upsetting, it is Thing 2 I come to discuss. First, here is a close up:


That's right, folks. Washington Capitals Women's jeans, perfect for the woman in your life who has everything, yet wants nothing.

This is a 5 on the ten point comedy scale, right there. For a couple bonus points, check out the price. It's "on sale"! $49.99, knocked down from $50! So you get a whopping penny off the price! For those of you not good at math, that's 50% off the price! For those of you who are good at math, that's 1/5,000th off the price!

Happy Valentines Day, from Alyssa Milano's ass to you.

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Bob Klapisch Makes A Pretty Yankees List. I Make Fun Of It. Film At Eleven.

The NFL season is over, hockey is on hiatus, and spring raining hasn't yet begun. This is the time that American Professional Sports forgot. We sports fans are subjected to the NBA all-star game and foreigners in sequined tights dancing around on ice. But we can always change the channel. The real damage is inflicted on the unsung heroes of our sports world: the sports writers.

Yes, the poor poor sports writers. They are the ones who are forced to write puff pieces about LeBron James or learn the rules to Curling. They use a broom for what? You can't be serious.

Of course there is one refuge, one beacon of light from on high, one last straw to pull out of the clasped hand of destiny. What last topic could the sad sports writer rely on to be there for him when all else abandons him? The answer should be obvious: the New York Yankees.

Bob Klapisch of the Bergen (New Jersey) Record and Foxsports.com (home of Sean Hannity's Conservative Super Bowl, the only game where punting on first down is not just encouraged, its stringently enforced) has made a list.

What kind of list, you ask. Perfectly valid question, fair reader, and yet after having read said list I have no good answer. It seems to be a list of players who would look good in pinstripes. Or who did look good in pinstripes. Or whom the Yankees could sign if they hadn't already signed other players. Or whom the Yankees could sign if they hadn't already signed with other teams.

Here is what Klapisch has to say about it:

There’s no neutral ground with this empire; you either admire the Bombers’ obsession with winning and their limitless supply of cash, or else you’re convinced every Yankee victory brings us a day closer to the apocalypse.

Given that passion, here are 10 players who’d be difference-makers in Pinstripes, the one who could raise the Yankees to the level of untouchables. Either that, or drag them a rung closer to the inferno.

Right. Still not entirely clear on what this is a list of, but fine. We'll go with it.

Here is #10:

#10: Prince Fielder
The images are too powerful to ignore; with Fielder headed for free agency this winter, coming off a modest, two-year, $18 million deal, he’s clearly looking at a pay-off worthy of his stature. Who better than the Steinbrenner family to finance that new revenue stream?

As you may know if you follow baseball at all, Fielder plays first base. The Yankees signed a first baseman last off season to an eight year contract. That means after this season when Fielder is a free agent, the first baseman they signed last off season will have six years remaining on his contract. The Yankees have first base filled for the next seven years, or to put into political terms, through the first four years of the Palin administration. (Michael, not Sarah.)

So, one player into the list, and we have a player who will be a free agent next season at a position which the Yankees have the least possible amount of need. Well played, Bob Klapisch! I award you ten gaypoints and the ability to move on!

#9: Tim Lincecum

Negotiations between the Giants and their ace are going poorly; it’s a near certainty that Lincecum will end up across the table from his bosses at an arbitration hearing.

This was written before Lincecum settled before reaching an arbitration hearing. Oops.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Looks like the Giants wised up at the last minute, avoiding arbitration by agreeing to a two-year, $23 million contract for Lincecum on Friday, after this was written.

Good show on the mea culpa, but Lincecum won't be a free agent for four years. And that assumes he isn't signed to a long term contract by the Giants in the meantime. So, sure Lincecum would be a great pitcher for the Yankees. Is that really the point of publishing this? Apparently so...

#8: Albert Pujols

Here we go again with the first basemen. I'm not even going to quote Klapisch's blurb about how awesome Pujols would look in Yankee pinstripes (so slimming!). Current Yankees first baseman Mark Teixeira - yes, him again - will have six more years on his deal at $22.5 million per year when Pujols becomes a free agent. Teixeira signed the seventh largest contract in terms of total value ever in baseball history. His yearly salary will be the fourth largest ever in baseball history. The Yankees can not trade Mark Teixeira. Thus, unless they are willing to pay $50 million per year for a first baseman, they can not sign or trade for Albert Pujols.

Stupid suggestion. Not going to happen. Moving on.

#7: Joe Mauer

Another pipe dream here, because baseball really needs Mauer and the Twins to stay married for a long, long time. His hypothetical defection to the Yankees would be enough to hand a generation of fans over to MMA, or the WWE, or bowling. It would start an insurgency that Bud Selig could never quell.

No one player is going to bring down the game. No one player signing with the Yankees is going to bring down the game. As a matter of fact, many many players are going to sign big contracts with the Yankees. Its going to happen. Mauer may or he may not, but as far as the game goes, I don't think a Mauer move to New York would cause any kind of boon to professional bowling.

But similar to the Pujols scenario, it’s impossible to completely extinguish the Yankee pipe dream as long as Mauer remains unsigned beyond 2010. They’ve got the money, the need (as Posada transitions toward DH status) and the near-guarantee of putting Mauer in the postseason every year.

And can you imagine what the game’s best hitting catcher would do in home run-friendly Yankee Stadium? It’s enough to make a Yankee dreamer perspire in anticipation — and enough to make a Twins fans wake up in a cold sweat, thankful that Mauer isn’t leaving the Twin Cities anytime soon.

Mauer would surely play well in New York. Kinda like how he plays well in Minnesota. I'm still not sure what the point of all this is, but sure, Mauer would be a good fit with the Yankees - the first good fit on this list so far. In fact, Mauer would be an amazingly perfect fit with every team in baseball save the Braves (they already have Brian McCann).

One thing I do wonder, why is Mauer number seven? I guess it has something to do with the purpose behind this list, which I have yet to identify. Maybe I'll figure it out and all of the clouds will clear.

#6: Dustin Pedroia

Nope. Not a clue.

Yes, we know the Yankees have the more talented second baseman in Robinson Cano. The Bronx incumbent is smooth, super-cool and has a hitting DNA to die for. But Pedroia plays harder and has a greater emotional investment in the day-to-day outcome of his team. In other words, he cares more than Cano.

Wait! I think I'm actually starting to get it. This is a list of players who, if money, position, contracts, other players, current roster construction, the alignment of the planets, and the composition of matter itself were not considerations, would fit in with Bob Klapisch's ideas of who would be a perfect Yankee. Pardon me whilst I throw up...

[cue elevator-type music...]

OK *wipes mouth with sleave* I'm back.

In an alternate reality, Pedroia’s intensity would blend perfectly in a tapestry created by Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera and Jorge Posada.

In an alternate reality, Derek Jeter's anus wouldn't be raw from the hourly lickings it receives courtesy of the New York Media. In an alternate reality, Mariano Rivera would be a concierge at a fine hotel and be able to distinguish between wine regions with a simple sniff. In an alternate reality Jorge Posada would be a flying elephant, going from chimney to chimney, pooping in people's fireplaces. And in this very same alternate reality, the Yankees would have drafted a 5'6 shortstop and given him a million dollar signing bonus.

We're going to do these last five lightning round style.

#5: John Lackey
#4: Carl Crawford
#3: Cliff Lee
#2: Carlos Beltran

I'm sure the Yankees will take a look at Crawford and Lee, as both are free agents after this coming season. Lackey just signed with the Red Sox after zero published interest from the Yankees, so the Yankees must disagree with Klapisch on him.

I don't get Carlos Beltran's inclusion. By all accounts he's Hispanic and as we all know, Hispanics don't hustle. Only short un-athletic white people do. In all seriousness, Beltran is a hell of a player when healthy, but again, with Curtis Granderson now in the Bronx, the Yankees kinda have this one covered.

The last one is a baffler:

#1: Johnny Damon

This is a sentimental pick, because the Yankees and Damon have obviously moved in opposite directions. Both sides should’ve thought more carefully about that break-up.

If I'm reading this correctly, and I'm not sure I am, according to Bob Klapisch, the Yankees would be better off with Johnny Damon than with Joe Mauer or Albert Pujols?

Yeah, I don't get it.

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Fuck The Groundhog, Its Truck Day

(image from the boston.com)

There is no surer sign of the impending arrival of Spring than Spring Training, and there is no surer sign of the impending arrival of Spring Training than Truck Day. Well, intrepid friends, its finally here. Today is Truck Day!

For those of you who don't know what the hell I'm talking about, Truck Day is that mythical day where all the stuff the Red Sox use for Spring Training is carted out of Fenway Park and loaded onto a truck (thus the name). The truck is then driven straight from Fenway Park to City of Palms Park in Fort Myers, Florida.

Yes, the Red Sox have turned loading a moving truck into a Special Occasion, complete with fans, team personnel, and prizes. And, of course, reporters. The guy who drove the truck the last twelve years is back for his thirteenth, and a reporter from the Boston Globe was there at Fenway Park at 6am this morning to interview him. Here is what he had to say:

"I'll stop at a truck stop down somewhere in Jersey, sleep right here in the truck then stop again around Georgia. I'll roll into Fort Myers on Sunday, then into camp early Monday morning."

So, if are planning to be hanging around the rest stops on the New Jersey Turnpike tonight, you could meet Al Hartz. See what I'm saying? If you're asking me, which nobody is, this really should be a national holiday

Happy Truck Day!

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Also, this is the second post in a row that features the word "fuck" in the title. Just thought I should point that out.

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Fuck You Marty.

Twenty days or less.

That’s how long your Dallas Stars Marty Turco replica jersey remains relevant.

With Wednesday night’s announcement that Stars General Manager Joe Nieuwendyk had traded for Atlanta Thrashers goaltender Kari Lehtonen, the countdown officially started on Turco’s exit from Dallas. As of now, the club is carrying three goalies whose current contracts, on paper, total a whopping $9.4 million. Granted, they’ll only be on the hook for a prorated portion of Lehtonen’s contract this year, but at the end of the season, if they are unable to trade Turco before the March 3 deadline, they will potentially find themselves without any NHL-quality net minder; Lehtonen will be a restricted free agent, and current backup Alex Auld and Turco will both be unrestricted free agents – not that the Stars have shown any interest in keeping Turco anyway.

For a team that has shown itself to be somewhat mentally fragile, especially on the road, introducing another starting goalie in to the dressing room, without Turco being part of the trade that got him here, creates an unstable dynamic and possible locker room tension. The players have long-term relationships with Turco, so how can they show support for the new guy with Marty sitting across the room? How can any of the three goalies focus properly with their futures all being so tenuous? Nieuwendyk has until the beginning of Olympic break, February 12 to make a trade, or he must then wait until the roster freeze period (Feb. 12-28) expires, after which he has three days until the trade deadline to make a deal to help clarify and stabilize the team if they have any designs on making the playoffs this season.

Another option would be for the Stars simply to sit Turco, and let him become a UFA at the end of the year and walk, thereby totally clearing his salary slot ($5.7 million) off their books for next year by not assuming any additional salary that would come back in a trade involving Marty. A final alternative would be to actually waive Turco and hope another team claims his entire remaining prorated salary cap hit, thereby freeing the Stars of him. If no club does, the Stars can send him to the minors, and then hope another team claims him on the reentry draft, where both the Stars and the team that claimed him would be on the hook for 50% of his remaining contract. That would be a brutal way to treat someone who has been such a cornerstone for this franchise for so long, but with owner Tom Hicks trying to slash costs at every corner, nothing

would surprise me.

Initial reactions to the trade by Stars’ head coach Marc Crawford were predictable:

"Obviously I think [Atlanta] feels pretty good about Kari Lehtonen. He's come back and I've heard that he's played well at the American League level, so we'll see what happens from there on our side."

Lehtonen’s “comeback” is from a pair of back surgeries – honestly, does a 26-year-old goalie undergoing multiple back surgeries sound like a good thing? – that have prohibited him from playing an actual NHL game since April, 2009. He has recently played four AHL games, posting a 1-1-2 record, 2.87 goals against and a .899 save percentage.

Ironically, the player the Stars traded, along with a fourth-round draft pick in 2010, 21-year-old defenseman Ivan Vishnevskiy has played commendably in the AHL this year; he was a member of the this season’s AHL’s PlanetUSA All-Star squad and is thought of as a highly-skilled young blueliner with developing offensive talent. Vishnevskiy, the Stars’ first-round pick in 2006, had only played five games in Dallas this year, but that’s five more NHL games than Lehtonen.

About Lehtonen, Nieuwendyk said, “He was picked second overall for a reason. When healthy, he is a world-class goaltender. He is 26, and is entering the prime of his career.”

The bottom line on the whole deal has to be that the Stars are banking on the fact that they are getting a player, Lehtonen, that they feel they can re-sign for less than his current $3 million price tag going forward due to his injury history, then cross their fingers that he returns to his form of 2006 through 2008.

As ESPN.com’s Scott Burnside wrote, “unless he makes an about-face in terms of his conditioning and ability to mentally compete, he will end up simply eating cap space in Dallas.”

Oof.

Update:

Upon further research, Kari Lehtonen:

-suffered a severe groin injury in 2005-06 that sidelined him 35 games

-suffered another groin injury in 2007-08 and missed 16 games

-loves McDonald's cheesburgers and was nicknamed Hamburglar

-has had a bunch of cool masks, including one with the Hamburglar on it, as well as ones with Uma Thurman from Kill Bill, L'il John, and Optimus Prime

Ain't No Party Like a Black Super Bowl Party...or 100.

Now that the media hog known as he Super Bowl has got its azz out of the way, the spotlight of the sports world can shine on its proper home, as ordained by both Jerry Jones and God : Dallas fucking Texas!

The NBA All-Star game, aka the Black Super Bowl, is going to be played in front of 456,000 people at the Death Star this Sunday, and as we're all well aware, the host city of the NBA All-Star game very coincidentally sees a monumental spike in its African-American population. Especially those in the 25-35 year-old, $500,000+ income demographic.

What to do with all that youthful energy, swagger and libido and all that disposable income? Duh! Throw a bigger and more ridiculous All-Star party than the brutha down the block!

I decided to do a little research to see how many such parties are popping off this week and found that there is a overload of festivities that kick off on Wednesday night and continue through the weekend. There are several league and Dallas Mavericks-sanctioned events around town, but those pale in comparison to the litany of Armand de Brignac-fueled celebrations of boombacity taking place in various abandoned warehouses and other legitimate venues.

What do you get when you try to exceed everyone's expectations of excessive excessiveness? These flipping retarded Orgies of Dig Me:

The Private All-Star Jet Hangar Party with Common & Mary J. Blige (Friday):

No, they didn't just rent out a big empty hangar to pack with their friends; the "jet hangar party" is apparently the new rage. Held at Love Field, the superduperstars can actually fly in to town Friday night, land, park their jet and step right in to an exclusive party. And for $2500, you can grab a table for eight, get two premium bottles of booze and actually watch them do it! "Hey,hand me the binoculars! Is that Jay Z getting off that Gulfstream over there?" What a deal.

The dress code reads "upscale and classy," and for some reason, females can be 21, but men have to be 23 to get in.

Akon Celebrity All-Star Weekend Bash (Friday):

Co-hosted by the Atlanta Hawks' Joe Johnson, this "A-list event" had the most expensive ticket by far. For the measly sum of $10,000, you and 15 of your friends get 5 bottles of your choice - so you each get about 2 drinks - and the chance to sit at one of the Celebrity White Room VIP Platinum Tables and look at Akon as he pretends like he wants to talk to you while looking at his watch counting down the minutes until his specified time to be in that room is up.

The Welcome to Dallas Warm Up hosted by Darrell Arthur (Thursday):

Darrell Arthur? Who? He's actually a Dallas native and current Memphis Grizzlie who hasn't played a single game this season due to injury. Somehow he convinced Paul Pierce and Kevin Durant (who seems to have talked the entire OKC Thunder roster in to attending) to co-headline the event. According to the website, invitations have gone out to Rajon Rondo, Kevin Garnett, Vince Carter and many more. I can just picture Carter talking to his manager about his All-Star schedules and the guy gets to Darrell Arthur's invitation. "Darrell Arthur...Darrell Arthur...is he the former third-string point guard from the Magic and Mavericks? I don't think I've ever heard of him. Tell him he can put my name on the flyer for $10,000."

"What time should I tell him that you'll get there?"

(Both): "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Tickets: $2000 for penthouse suite and table. $35 to peak in the door.

Diddy Does Dallas (Friday):

Supposedly, 10,000 fucking people are expected to attend Diddy's little hoe-down; what, you thought someone would outshine the Didster? Co-headliners include Terrell Owens and Josh Howard - one athlete who got ran out of Dallas last year and one who is counting the days before his ticket is punched.

Tickets:

$75 GA

$150 VIP

$2600 VIP Table

$3000 Josh Howard's VIP Tables

$4000 Diddy's VIP Tables

It's like Diddy is the sun and the party-goers of different levels of celebrity and wealth spin around him according to their standing. For $75, you can be Pluto.

LeBron James & Drake - LIVE! (Friday):

You may have heard about the LeBron lickfest known as More Than a Game and Drake's song and video that go with it. You may have even witnessed LeBron rapping Eminem's verse from Forever during a timeout during the Cavaliers' recent drubbing of the Lakers. Well, dress "sophisticated and fly" and catch it live in this mega-bash.

Tickets:

$125 GA

$500 Penthouse Suite

$2650 VIP Table in GA area

$2950 VIP Table in actual VIP Area

$3350 VIP Ultra Table

I don't think it's possible to go higher than an "Ultra Table." It goes to 11.

Alonzo Mourning & Majic Johnson 8 Ball Challenge After Party w/ Doug E. Fresh:

OK. You're hosting a party during the NBA All-Star Game and you fucking spell Magic Johnson's name wrong on the flyer!??! Then you feature Doug E. Fresh as your entertainment? About 90% of those who attend your non-spellchecking ass' party will be too young to even know who Doug E. Fresh is.

You get an F.

Celebrity Lounge featuring Torii Hunter & His Celebrity Friends (Saturday):

Metroplex-resident, and Texas Ranger-spurner, Torii Hunter used the word "celebrity" twice in the title, so it must be huge. Supposedly, Adrian Peterson, Charles Barkley, Donovan McNabb, Derrek Lee and Gary Sheffield will be there. It's going to be held at Eddy Deen's Ranch, a noted country bar and restaurant, because, you know, that's all we have in Dallas, right? Fuck you! It's bad enough that during every nationally-televised football or basketball game, networks make Dallas look like we all still ride horses - next year during the Super Bowl build up, I may blow my head off with my six-shooter after what will surely be a constant parade of country music artists and western images that Fox will throw on the screen. I can't wait for the headline "Donovan McNabb out for the season with fractured neck after being thrown from mechanical bull."

The good news is that for a mere $1300 you can belly on up ta yer VIP Table.

This is getting ridiculous. It's time for the speed round:

Jason Terry & Friends Present The Welcome 2 Dallas Party (Weds):

Tickets: $100 - $1300

Welcome II Dallas - Part II: Ballers Night Out (Thurs)

The sequel, featuring Martellus Bennett, Nathan Vasher and Michael Huff. Just by walking through the front door, Bennett will be making more of an appearance than he did on the field all season for the Cowboys.

Tickets: $40. Seriously. That's it.

2 Can Play That Game (Fri)

Featuring Vivica Fox and Lamann Rucker - who the fuck is Lamann Rucker? Oh I forgot. He's the star of Why Did I Get Married, Meet the Browns...and more.

Tickets: $30 - $800.

The All Black Everything All-Star Party (Sat):

How much more black could it be? None. None more black.* Kevin Durant, Rashard Lewis, Chris Bosh, Aaron Brooks and many more non-white guys are gonna be there; the party's virtually sold out already.

Actually, by "All Black," they're referring to your attire - as in, wear only black clothes. Still, could someone get away with calling their party The All White Everything Super Bowl Party next year?

Oh, another thing, the party is also celebrating the birthday of Big Mike, ex-European basketball superstar. So it's got that going for it.

Denver Nuggets' Kenyon Martin Welcome 2 Dallas All-Star Celebrity Bash (Fri):

Enough with the Prince-esque usage of the numeral 2 instead of "to." It's not clever anymore; it only makes me think that you can't distinguish between "to," "too," and "two." With special guests like Acie Law, Play-N-Skillz and Aija Nicole, how could you pass this one up?

Tickets: $75 - $3000.

There are a shitload more, but I had to include my two favorites before passing out:

The All-Star Tip Off Hosted by Dallas Mavericks Roddy Beaubois & His NBA Friends (Weds):

They actually had to include the words "Dallas Mavericks" in the title as no one outside of Dallas knows who Beaubois is. I've looked and looked and I can't find out who Beaubois' NBA friends are.

Tickets: $20. Or successfully identify Guadeloupe on a map.

And at #1 on our countdown....

Nightlegends.com and Play-N-Skillz Latin All-Star Explosion, with Special Guest J.J. Barea (Fri.):

HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Well, if one foreign Mavericks back-up point guard can host a part, why not both?

Tickets: $25.

I've heard that many of the high-end auto dealerships are booming as the high rollers that are descending on Dallas for the game are renting all the Benzes, Beemers and Ginis that they can find. Hey, you can even gt a Lamborghini Murcielago for only $3000 a day!

It's hard out there for a pimp.

*Two Spinal Tap references in a column about the NBA All-Star games? That has to be a record.

Game. Of. The. Day.

No more champagne toasts for the 1929-30 Boston Bruins. That much celebrated team, for those of you who don't recall because you're still alive, won 14 consecutive games. Until yesterday, that was the third longest winning streak in NHL history.

Now, it is still the third longest winning streak in NHL history. But, the 2009-10 Washington Capitals have pulled up next to them. They did it in impressive fashion too, by spotting the defending Stanley Cup Champs, the Pittsburgh Penguins, a 4-1 lead before coming back in overtime to win, 5-4.

An aside: How much would the Flyers like to have Mike Knuble now? Dude is a dirty goal scoring machine. He's like a lousy golfer in the sand, he just stands there and keeps whacking until the damn thing goes where he wants it to. Of his 21 goals on the year, I can only think of one of them scored from father than three feet out. He's a +22 on the year, sixth best on the Caps, which, for the record, would be tops on the Flyers.

But enough Flyer tweaking. We'll take our tweaking west across Pennsylvania, to Pittsburgh, home of the defending Champs. After an arduous journey through the snow filled blah blah blah, the Penguins arrived in fine form, scoring two right out of the box and looking every bit like the defenders of Lord Stanley's Cup.

I wasn't able to watch the match up on the telly because I was sitting in a parking lot outside the Acme in Limerick, PA waiting for my wife to finish having her hair done. (No, my wife was not having her hair done at the Acme in Limerick, PA. I went shopping during. Anyway.) As many of you may be aware, having your hair done can take the better part of three hours. Since I was nowhere near a TV and sitting by myself in the car, I took a chance that, 200 miles away, I might be able to pick up WTOP out of Washington DC and hear the Caps/Pens game on the radio. You remember the radio, right? Its that thing that talks to you, but doesn't have a picture. Anyway, holy shit, when parked in the far corner of the lot away from all the electrical wires, I could get it! Sure it went in and out a bit, but I could hear the announcer all of the time and understand him most of the time. When I couldn't understand what he was saying, I followed the action by the tone of his voice, even if the words were garbled.

That's how I heard Jordan Staal's second goal to put the Penguins up 4-1 midway through the second period. 4-1. Its also how I heard Eric Fehr's goal to close out the second period, and its how I heard Ovechkin's second and third goals to tie the game up.

If any of you were at the Limerick, PA Acme, I was the guy with the Caps hat waiving his hands and screaming by himself in the parked car over in the corner. And no, if I saw me, I wouldn't have allowed my kids within 100 yards of me either.

Some bullet points:

* After yesterday's game, Alex Ovechkin leads the NHL in Goals (42), Points (86), and Plus/Minus (+41).

* The Caps lead the Southeast Division by 27 points, the Eastern Conference by 14 points, and the entire NHL by 3 points.

* The Caps have scored 37 more goals than the next best team, San Jose, and are still the only team with over 200 goals on the year (234).

* The Caps have the highest point differential (+73), 19 more than second place San Jose.

* If they win their next three games Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, the Caps will tie the longest winning streak in NHL history (17) by the Pittsburgh Penguins.

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Die Kapitalien Gewinnen Wieder! Ja! Weibchen!

Die Kapitalien gewannen während des dreizehnten geraden Mal gestern Abend. Ja! Ja! Sie gewinnen zweifellos die Stanley-Schale. Affegeschlecht! Nur dann stellen Leute fest, dass die Kapitalien das größte Hockey-Team in der Geschichte sind. Verbessern Sie sogar als das München 1943 Hitlers. Ja! Affe-Geschlecht!

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I Can't Decide Which Is Worse

Which of the following is a greater atrocity foisted upon society at large by Reebok*?

*A subsidiary of Adidas, in turn a subsidiary of Halliburton, in turn a subsidiary of ESPN, in turn a subsidiary of Disney.**

**Not really. Or at least not most of it.

This report that Reebok, under contract from the NFL (America's Favorite Shit-filled Unilateralist Colossus), was, until September 2009, when the NFL pulled its contract from the sweatshop, was paying workers $0.72 per hour to produce replica jerseys that sell for $80...*

Or this?
Woof. I got some shoes to set on fire. Just gotta remember to take my feet out of 'em first.

*In case you don't care to read the report, workers sewing NFL replica jerseys were being paid $0.72 per hour with mandatory unpaid overtime (illegal even in the third-world nation of El Salvador) until the NFL stopped producing merchandise at the factory in September 2009. Since then, the factory has been producing other garments for Reebok and Adidas without the NFL's imprimatur and -- as per El Salvadorean labor law -- are being paid double-time for overtime. They are still grotesquely underpaid, of course, but no longer illegally so.

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This Never Happens

Here's the front page of today's Washington Post:


That ain't Obama on the cover, folks.

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This Goes To Eleven

Easiest. Headline. Ever.

One of the marks of a good team (I won't say great until they do something in the playoffs) is winning on nights when they don't have their best game. A bit of luck doesn't hurt either. The Caps used that formula against Tampa two nights ago to bring their winning streak to ten games. They gave up a two goal lead in the third period and were the recipients of a few stops by the iron goaltender behind Jose Theodore, before Alex Ovechkin restored the order by scoring the game winning goal with six minutes left.

Last night in Boston the Caps went to eleven. Though the final score was a lopsided 4-1 the game was in doubt through most of the third period. In fact, the Caps were severely out-skated by Boston in the first period to the tune of a 13-5 shot margin and a 1-0 deficit.

No matter. After the first intermission, the Caps just put on their tie-the-game pants, and tied the game. They got some help from the much maligned Theodore who stopped a penalty shot. Then, during the second intermission, the Caps put on their we-crush-you-now pants, and dropped a three spot on the sad sack Bruins.

For those keeping score at home, the Caps now have a...

... 25 point lead on Florida and the rest of the Southeast Division
... 10 point lead on New Jersey and the rest of the Eastern Conference
... 1 point lead on San Jose and the rest of the NHL
... the longest winning streak in the 35 year history of the Washington Capitals

Not bad, eh?

Dion Ph... Pha... Phan.... PhaNotgonnaworkhereanymore!!

It's one of the old truisms in sports: "The team that gets the best player involved is the team that wins the trade." Of course, Herschel Walker was the best player involved in "The Trade" in 1989.

Walker, after a legendary college career that included a Heisman Trophy -- and festooned with the Big Blue Star on the side of his helmet that virtually guarantees national exposure -- was awfully famous. But he wasn't nearly valuable enough to offset the loss of players and draft picks the Minnesota Vikings surrendered in exchange for him.

Which brings us to this past weekend's blockbuster NHL trade. One of my favorite sayings -- which gets a lot of use when the topic of the Cowboys comes up -- is "he's more famous than good." (Think, in the NFL, of Roy Williams -- either Roy Williams; your choice.)

Dion Phaneuf was drafted ninth overall by the Calgary Flames in the watershed 2003 Entry Draft.* In his rookie year of 2005-06, he scored 20 goals, an outstanding total for any defenseman and a virtually unheard-of accomplishment for a rookie defenseman. (It happened twice in the high-scoring 1980s and never else.) He was the third nominee for the Calder Trophy alongside two guys you might have heard of, Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby.

*This draft was possibly the greatest assemblage of talent in the history of any professional draft. Among the first 50 picks in that draft were the following All-Stars/Olympians/general bad-asses: Marc-Andre Fleury, Eric Staal, Ryan Getzlaf, Zach Parise, Jeff Carter, Thomas Vanek, Corey Perry, Mike Richards, Dustin Brown, Ryan Kesler, Shea Weber, Brent Seabrook, Braydon Coburn, Loui Eriksson, Patrice Bergeron, and Matt Carle. Jesus fuck. All but one of the 30 first-round picks reached the NHL, which is, frankly, absurd.

On a good team in a Canadian market, with a heavy-hitting style that lent itself to highlight reels, and blessed with a totally righteous name (seriously: Dion Phaneuf), Phaneuf became an overnight sensation. He scored 17 more goals the following season (mostly at age 20), and was lavished with a 6-year, $39M contract in 2007-08 en route to another 17 goals, this time with career highs in assists (43) and plus/minus (plus 12).

And from that point forward, his progress ground to a full halt.

(To prevent the dreaded Plaschke Paragraph there, I considered pointing out, apropos of absolutely nothing, that Phaneuf shares a birthday with my late Grandmother. But I thought better of it.)

Still chasing the highlight-reel hits that helped make him famous in the first place, by his fourth season in the NHL he had still failed to develop any sense of how to play without the puck -- not good for a defenseman. (Miss the check or arrive a split second too late, and the other team is off to the races toward your net while you're standing around in the neutral zone.) In 2008-09 -- while gracing the cover of EA Sports' NHL 09 -- Phaneuf led the entire NHL in total minuses.* He offset them in part with 26 points at even strength, but still finished a lousy minus-11 -- not acceptable for a presumed number-one defenseman on a 98-point team that fell 2 points short of a division championship.

*In other words, he was on the ice for more even-strength and short-handed goals by the other team than any other player in the league.

Furthermore, it's apparent -- to me, at least -- that Phaneuf was never as good as he was perceived to be. Power-play goal-scoring by a defenseman is about as non-predictive a statistic as you'll find in the NHL.* It's not quite at the level of blocked extra points in football, but it's close. Of Phaneuf's 20, 17, and 17 goals in his first three seasons, 17, 13, and 10, respectively, came on the power play. Those shots aren't always going to get through all the traffic between the blueline and the net, and when this inevitably happens, your offensive production is going to crash into an iceberg: last year Phaneuf had only 4 power-play goals and 11 overall.

*Ask the Edmonton Oilers about the predictive value of Sheldon Souray's 19-PPG season in Montreal in 2006-07... If you can distract them from their dogged efforts to find a team to eat the 5-year, $27M contract they lavished on him in the subsequent offseason. That has bought them 14 total PPGs since.

The Flames, understandably leery of Phaneuf's status as an elite blueliner, then signed free agent Jay Bouwmeester to a 5-year, $33M contract this past offseason. Combined with the Phaneuf contract and those of stay-at-home veteran D-man Robyn Regehr and world-class goaltender Miikka Kiprusoff, the Flames had committed a ludicrous percentage of the salary cap to defensemen and goalies, while winger Jarome Iginla -- one of the true superstar offensive players of the era -- continued to dutifully smash his head into a wall without the help of a better-than-adequate center.

The Canadian media members (and Flames fans) who rushed to crown Phaneuf the Next Big Thing in 2006 reacted swiftly in the opposite direction once his development stalled. With the Flames underachieving wildly this season, Phaneuf -- even despite his still-incomplete game -- was probably blamed unfairly. So, after a nine-game losing streak knocked the Flames out of the playoff picture entirely, the Flames front office hunkered down with Toronto GM Brian Burke and unloaded Phaneuf for a package of half-decent players.

Sports history is littered with "three-quarters-on-the-dollar" trades, the best recent NHL example of which being the Boston Bruins' indefensible exile of Joe Thornton to San Jose. But is Phaneuf actually a dollar? Was he ever? Would he be a dollar if Nashville had drafted him seventh overall in 2003 and Calgary had taken Ryan Suter* ninth instead?

*More steady in his own end of the ice but less explosive offensively; also, perhaps relevantly, American. The point, though: Would anyone think Phaneuf was a superstar if he played for a low-profile team?

The take: winger Niklas Hagman, center Matt Stajan, defenseman Ian White, and winger Jamal Mayers. (Winger Fredrik Sjostrom -- a/k/a "Freddie Shoes" -- and defensive prospect Keith Aulie were packaged with Phaneuf.)

Even Flames fans who became disenchanted with Phaneuf were left wondering, "that's all we got for Dion Goddamn Phaneuf?"

But, to quote Ed Olczyk, "Lookit!" -- Hagman was leading the abysmal Maple Leafs in goals, Stajan was leading them in assists, White is a low-salaried and reliable defenseman, and Mayers is... um, a token black guy. Most importantly, the Flames purged Phaneuf's outrageous contract.

With the sudden development of defenseman Mark Giordano this season (13 even-strength points, plus-4), Phaneuf (10 even-strength points, plus-3) had become the team's fourth best defenseman. As outrageous as it seems, at this point he is replaceable by White, a guy no one had ever heard of until last season. White has 26 points this season, with only 5 on the power play, and (at plus-1) is one of only two plus players on a garbage barge of a Maple Leafs squad that is dead last in the Eastern Conference.

(White, by the way, was immediately issued Phaneuf's number 3 upon his arrival to Calgary. Not having trouble moving on, are we?)

The Flames have face-planted so badly this season that it'll take an act of God to prevent them from facing the world-beating Blackhawks or Sharks in the first round of the playoffs... if they make it at all. But at least now they're free to upgrade their offense next season -- and they've upgraded it already with Stajan (albeit just this season, as he's in the final year of his contract) and Hagman (who has 2 more years left at $3M each).

And meanwhile, the Maple Leafs have a grand total of one legitimate top-six forward on their roster (Phil Kessel). They've committed a metric shit-tonne of money to their defense, with Phaneuf ($6.5M/y) joining the grotesquely overpaid Mike Komisarek ($4.5M/y), Francois Beauchemin ($3.8M/y), Tomas Kaberle* ($4.5M/y), and Jeff Finger ($3.5M/y). And they followed up the Phaneuf acquisition by trading for goaltender Jean-Sebastien Giguere, who has a whopping $7M salary next season.

*Kaberle is actually pretty decent, despite his atrocious plus/minus. He also has only 1 year left on his deal. The point, though: look at all that fuckin' money they spend on defensemen!

Um... Does this roster's composition look familiar? Good news for Kessel, I guess -- he could become the next Iginla!

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Capitals Win Win Win Win Win Win Win Win Win And Win

It's Locker! (image taken from Washington Post Sports Bog)

I'm working on a couple posts, both of which will surely be rich with information and poop. Both are relatively involved, at least for me, and as such they won't be done today or probably even tomorrow.

So I'm taking a break from that to do this: I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that YOUR Washington Capitals are winners of ten straight games, a full 1/8th of the NHL schedule (almost). In the process they've tied their franchise record, which was set in 1984, and increased their lead in the Southeast Division to 23 points. That is not a typo. They lead the second place team in their division by twenty three points. That's just silly. They go for their 11th in a row in Boston tomorrow night.

If you're the sort that loves hockey history, Dan Steinberg's excellent DC Sports Bog (yes, "Bog" not "Blog") has all the gory details on the Caps 10 game run back in '84, including this excellent turn of phrase from the Washington Post game story on the Caps 8th in a row: "[Caps goalie Pat] Riggin lost his Irish temper in the third period."

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