Friday, February 19, 2010

Let it snow...


Come and shake the hands of two actual Palm Isle bloggers at tomorrow's AHL Outdoor Classic at the New York State Fairgrounds in Syracuse. Of course, our hands may be frozen solid, but we'll try nodding our heads in your general direction. We'll be in Grandstand 4, Row RR, or maybe taking a dip in the hot tub with Bob Nystrom and Rob Ray.

Full report sometime soon after the game. Or at least soon-ish.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Where were we?


When last we were into this thing, we were all hopeful for the future but realistic that the future wasn't quite here yet. So, after some good runs during the season, we're kind of in the same place, no?

Good. Now that we've agreed on that, let's not dwell on our negligence in posting anymore.

Instead, let's turn our attention to one of the joys of being an Islanders fan--namely, that, less than a week before a game you've been thinking about going to since the schedule came out, you can buy a ticket for a center-ice seat seven rows off the ice for $39.35, even with Ticketmaster fees. And that's how I got to the Nassau Coliseum last night to see the Islanders take on the Nashville Predators (my Western Conference team of choice).



After the first period, I was beginning to rethink the trip from Jersey. It was a period typical of the Isles of late: lackadaisical skating, defensive breakdowns, and an infuriatingly bad power play. Amazingly, though, I only cursed out loud once. I would've apologized to the children in the general area, but if their parents are taking them to a game where Bruno Gervais is on the ice, I'm assuming they know what they're getting into.



The second period was a good deal better, starting after a strong shift from Frans Nielsen and Kyle Okposo that gave way to a goal on the next shift from, wow, Freddy Meyer. Seeing Freddy Meyer score a goal was proof enough that the night was worth the trip, but then, after two goals from the Predators, the truly incredible happened: Bruno Gervais scored a goal. On the power play (granted, a 5-on-3, but any goal on the power play is something of a miracle). Someday I will tell my grandkids (or, more likely, someone else's grandkids) that I once went to a game where Freddy Meyer and Bruno Gervais scored a goal, and they will look at me like I'm crazy and say, "Sure, old man." But I've got the ticket stub (and it's signed by Butch Goring).



Steve Sullivan's power-play goal in the third seemed like an inevitability, so I took it in stride. And as the clock ticked down, I mentally prepared myself for the long train ride home, where I could at least take comfort in the fact that my Western Conference team had picked up two needed points. But with Marty Biron pulled, the Isles started hustling and digging for pucks and then Mark Streit tied it up (sure, I would have liked to see a forward score, but you can't have it all) with 12 seconds left, and it was high-fives all around.



Overtime was pretty entertaining, and the Isles had some good chances. But it was on to the Frans Nielsen showcase that is the shootout. And Nielsen would've had the winner if Biron hadn't decided to try for his best Wade Dubielewicz impression and failed miserably. Luckily, John Tavares saved the day, and the intimate gathering of friends at the Coliseum headed out into the not-snowy-yet night happy.



I was in between trains, so I went down to the lower level of the Coliseum to see if there was any postgame stuff being filmed. Sure enough, about a dozen diehards were staring at Deb (Kaufman) Placey and Butch Goring as they did their postgame thing. So I hung around and got Mr. Goring to sign my ticket stub. I couldn't pull my act together fast enough to get a picture with him, so that dream will have to be fulfilled some other time.



So, to recap: I saw the Islanders win, bringing me to 3-0 on the season in my in-person Islanders experiences; my second-favorite team picked up a point and stayed in playoff position; I got Butch Goring's autograph; and, to cap it all off, it's a snow day for me today, so the late-night return to Jersey City was no big deal. Who says there's no such thing as a happy Islanders fan?

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Wanted: video of Torts vs. Montreal visiting team locker room whiteboard



Just read this beauty on TSN about the latest Ranger debacle:

"If Tortorella was trying to hide his frustration, it was clearly evident in the Rangers dressing room. The white board used to write down the Canadiens line combinations appeared to take the brunt of the anger, sitting on the floor with three, stick-shaped cracks in it."

It appears that the Rangers could use some scoring. Wonder where Jagr is these days?

Video I found on Puck Daddy. Keep an eye out for 68:



Talk about a fall from grace. Looks like the friggin' Thunderdome. I feel like Tina Turner is about to come out and lead a "Two men enter, one man leaves!" chant.

Delighting in Ranger misery when most things seem to be going well for the Islanders is probably bad karma--although I don't believe in those things--so I should stop. If Brooksie can restrain himself...

Friday, January 22, 2010

Tales from the Bus Stop

If the NHL doesn't have a season of the new reality show "Torts and Brooksie" in pre-production, they're making yet another mistake.



More Islanders-related stuff soon. Unless these exchanges continue, in which case we'll be changing this blog to be all Torts and Brooksie, all the time.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Breaking the Silence

I thought this was worth it. Avery finally decides to fight Hartnell WITHOUT jumping him from behind. This was awesome. Short, but sweet.



Oh, and the Isles won. Was a good night.

I don't know what happened to the other bums that write for this blog but they'll be back. I think.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

A sign of things to come.



“Anyone who needs to drink more than 24 cans of beer in a day to have a good time is not welcome."

Now, I am skipping over any coverage of opening night because I can't tell you anything you didn't know. Guess what--the Rook scored. Two points on the night. The Isles lost.

I had a ride to the game, but because I don't feel like spending the night on a piss line, I tried not to drink too much. But it's damn good to know that I could have drank my penis off if I'd wanted to. But from the land of intoxication comes a story of men having their beer curtailed. A cautionary tale from Australia:

http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,24307527-26103,00.html

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Near Eve


I used to spend more time with the hockey video games, playing at least three or four complete seasons each year in college, editing every single player in the revelatory NHL 2k3, and conducting weekend "legends" tournaments alongside my regular season in ESPN NHL Hockey.

EA's NHL 10 is the best, by far, of all of the hockey games I've ever played, and I've barely made it past the second period of about 12 games so far. Such is the world of parenthood.

Thanks to the Internet, and some finely honed Geeking skills, I've popped in some pretty good sliders, found the "ultimate" rosters (although ultimate sometimes means John Tavares is centering the Isles' first line), and enjoyed what I can to this point. This afternoon, with the day off from work and the boys sleeping, I managed a 0-0 draw through 37 minutes with the Oilers, only to have a wrist shot hop over Rick D's (I'll probably do the properly sim/dork thing and start Biron to start my "season") shoulder at the exact moment a bedroom door opened and "good morning!" echoed through the house.

Tonight, I will get the bastards back, at least for a period or so ... .

As realistically non-realistic as NHL 10 is, it can't really tell us anything about the state of the Islanders, although my lack of finish on the sticks draws an eerie parallel to the boys in royal blue (I never, never use the "new" jerseys, always sticking with the soon-to-be mainstream alternate). Still, it's fun to think my trance-like repose in front of the sorely out-of-date SDTV might give us some glimpse into the coming season.

A few things I've noticed.

1. The Isles can skate with just about any team, but not Evgeni Malkin.

2. No Finnish. Even the probably-overrated-estimated-we-just-don't-know Tavares CAP can't bury anything but wide-open chances. Thankfully there's Mark Streit and a generous deflection engine.

3. We're going to lose every single fight this season. Or, I need to practice this new fighting system, which makes no sense to me right now.

4. The Ramones will bring the Isles out onto the ice at the newly named "Long Island Arena" every home game. Or not. (wishful thinking)

5. We. will. get. Dion. Phaneuf.

Saturday Night

Because sometimes the stars align even for one of the world's least-connected people, me, the Mediocre One and I have managed to get ahold of some veddy goot tickets for the home opener. No liveblogging, but I will get back on Sunday with the full report.

I haven't been this excited for a hockey game since I went to a bar in Ithaca to watch game five of the 2002 playoffs against the Leafs. I spent the whole night standing under a tiny television, crowding a table full of college students watching basketball on the "big" TV, clutching a series of beers, and yelling at some poor college kid who had the nerve to come down from Cornell to watch the game alone and root for the Leafs in my presence on that fateful, stupid night.

I'm pretty sure I told him he had "personally disgusted me and ruined hockey for at least five years in one fell swoop with his sickening display of ignorance, cockiness, and stupidity." And I'm pretty sure that was in reaction to one muted fist pump when the game finally ended. And then he ran out and my friends roped me into playing pool while I bitched and challenged them to "man up!" and play bubble hockey.

Beetches.

Here's the songs my kids demand to hear when the snow starts to fall.







See you Saturday.