Friday, February 9, 2007

Buffalo pre-game, and some tagging funness

It has been months since Dave took my money for the Buffalo game, and unless he's been conning me, we get to go tomorrow! Apparently the snow in upstate New York has been crazy heavy, but who cares? I don't know how many times I've gone to worship at the 'Dome in -20 or -30 degree weather.

So. Last night at Columbus wasn't a great way to kick off the road trip, but on the other hand, the boys should be properly chastised and feeling like they need to come out and play a full sixty minutes. (Hope does indeed spring eternal).

One thing I'd like to see are the big boys (Iggy, Langkow, Tanguay, Conroy for the purposes of this post) come out a little harder. They've been easy to ignore the last couple of games. I know it's getting to be that time of year when everyone's tired and banged up, but we do need more effort from them.

As for Buffalo? We know they're good. We also know they're a bit schizophrenic. Apparently they also have evil twins. It makes the outcome of the game completely impossible to predict. It could be a tight 1-0 game, it could be a no-holds-barred-goalfest.

Go Flames.

And without further ado...

Team: Calgary Flames
Uniform number: 13. Come on, it's in the Fibonacci sequence...
Position: Prone? No, goalie, probably, 'cause that's what the cousins made me play
Nickname: "Hey, you!"
Dream linemates: I'm a goalie. Be serious.
Rounding out the PP: Ummmm, Nieuwy, Roberts, and Fleury? MacInnis and Phaneuf. (First four in their heyday, ie, when they used to play for us, of course).
Job: Bake brownies for the team
Signature move: Use my understanding of pressure points to cause players crowding my crease to abruptly scream in pain, collaspe, and go into a seizure. Pretty nifty, with goalie gear on!
Strengths: A mean underhand serve, and... wait, that's the wrong sport. A powerful roundhouse don't think that's it either...
Weaknesses: Short attention span. Also a bad temper. And an aptitude for violence.
Injury problems: Both knees and an ankle. Extremely wonky. Wait! I take it back! I meant "Lower body. No other comment."
Equipment: The usual goalie stuff (have I ever played, outside of my grandfather's basement? Hells no), plus a baking pan and measuring cups.
Nemesis: Ryan Smyth. The only thing worse than a guy crowding your personal space is a guy with a mullet crowding your personal space.
Scandal involvement: After years of toiling on the team, taking other people's money in wagers, rating the puck bunnies on a scale of 1-10, and carting the bodies back from the bar, somebody actually realizes I'm a girl.
Who I'd face in the Stanley Cup Finals: Edmonton. You're going down, suckers.
What I'd do with the Stanley Cup after our victory: Cuddle
Would the media love me or hate me: They'd love me, but be baffled by my attempts at wit.

I don't know who else to tag. If you've read this and you haven't done this yet, consider yourself tagged. And send me a link.

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