Let me start by saying that I love what dear old Scizz wrote the other night. I cued this piece of mine up by promising a rebuttal on Twitter, but really the only thing that guaranteed was that I'd actually write something, and not that I'd sit down with the intention of tearing Scizzer a new asshole. Besides, it was I that started the heckles for Miller the other night; I who have relentlessly criticized similar behavior of other Sabres fans from time to time. Fact is, I was drunk, I had busted my ass to organize a trip out to the Island for this game, and I was pissed. Miller pulled it out in the end, and provided me with another reason to sit down and be honest, just like my compatriot.
The Barrister
Let me start by saying that I love what dear old Scizz wrote the other night. I cued this piece of mine up by promising a rebuttal on Twitter, but really the only thing that guaranteed was that I'd actually write something, and not that I'd sit down with the intention of tearing Scizzer a new asshole. Besides, it was I that started the heckles for Miller the other night; I who have relentlessly criticized similar behavior of other Sabres fans from time to time. Fact is, I was drunk, I had busted my ass to organize a trip out to the Island for this game, and I was pissed. Miller pulled it out in the end, and provided me with another reason to sit down and be honest, just like my compatriot.
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The Barrister Last week, as my body deteriorated as it reacted to little sleep combined with a stomach bug combined with an impromptu visit to Elmhurst Medical Center, I reached my lowest point. Last night, as Mike Weber and Jordan Leopold looked utterly confused as to their respective purposes in life, and Ryan Miller was yet again run out of the net by a vastly superior team of ice hockey players, the Sabres followed suit. As if it weren't clear, neither professional hockey teams nor 29 year old bodies are supposed to behave like this. And while I have adjusted my sleep patterns and imbibed more than my fair share of fluids to right my own ship, I wonder just how much is being done to right what is so very, very wrong with our Buffalo Sabres. Frankly, I fear that "nothing" may be pretty close to the truth. What is becoming clear is that this season is a bust - the Sabres need to win roughly 70% of their games to even have a shot at the playoffs... that will not happen - and the only questions are whether we'll actually get any watchable, palatable hockey in the meantime, and whether organizational shakeups will happen sooner rather than later. As to the first question, your guess is as good as mine. The team we've seen these past couple months is a shadow of its former self - the self which dug deep for a 7 seed last year and then pushed one of the East's best to the brink. I don't know if I've seen this team dig that deep since November, even for just a period. For a town that prides itself in its support for hard-working hockey, and for an organization which has sold itself as purposed towards a Cup above all else, this lack of on-ice passion is staggering and disheartening. And for a fanbase that tends to support its teams so long as the games are watchable competitions of relatively even sides, it shouldn't be that hard for the team to put together some decent hockey and give us a continuing reason to overdrink on weeknights. But, while it shouldn't be that hard, it apparently is. Say what you will about the pieces still missing from the roster - and there are PLENTY to speak of - but we all thought, at the very least, that they'd step out onto the ice and compete. Instead, they've simply folded, leaving us with a shitty product with shitty prospects for the future. As for the organizational shakeups that are sure to come given the team's failure to achieve even the most basic of goals, I do hope that they come sooner rather than later. The caveat being, of course, that this season is an unchangeable turd sandwich with absolutely no realistic hope of salvation, so any shakeups we see need to be purposed towards the long term. With the disastrous results on Long Island and in Detroit these past two games, no reasonably thinking Sabres fan is looking for a splash that might turn this season around. But, since it's all too likely that the on-ice product will remain garbage, the least the team can do is start actively trying to find ways to make the team better for next year so that we fans can at least have that to cheer for. Most fans will ultimately be ok with waiting on that Cup run - hell, its been over 40 years, we can be patient for a couple more. But, even with that general willingness to be patient, we will have a hard time stomaching the developing feeling that the team is spiraling downwards with no legitimate hope of recovery on the horizon. Which is exactly what watching this Sabres squad of underachieving, overhyped nancies has felt like. Putrid, vomuit-inducing shit heading further and further down the drain. And, sadly, for those who've been able to stomach it, you all know that this is far from hyperbole. So, dearest Terry Pegula, you humble man of such extensive means - IT'S YOUR SHOW. We're all in for your master plan for this Sabres team, and we know it will take a little bit of time, but in the meantime we need you to show us something. We need you need to show us that, as much as we all love Lindy, you are beginning to understand - as we have - that he might not be the guy to take us to the promised land. We need you need to show us that, as well as he's played in the past, you see - as we have - that Ryan Miller is showing himself to be not quite up to the task of the Sabres #1 goaltender and might need to find a home elsewhere. And we need you need to show us that, as locked in to its farm system as this team has been over the last decade, you appreciate - as we have - that there might be another, easier, quicker road to a Cup victory than sticking by our "core" through thick and thin, and that there's no shame in admitting that the philosophy of the franchise you took over might need some major tweaking. The fragile sports psyche of the Buffalo fan, promised time and again that progress is coming, only to be served the same shit sandwich from its teams year after year, needs this all more than ever right now. Terry, again - IT'S YOUR SHOW. The Barrister
I'm fucking bitter. Right from the outset, dear readers, please understand that there is a LOT pissing me off these days. For the life of me, though, I can't stomach a full post where I take on one, cohesive topic of my rage. I'm exhausted from vacation (go figure), I'm already exhausted from work, and I'm exhausted by the dozen or so little corners of my sports world that make me want to find Jerry Sullivan's NYC doppleganger and strangle him to a long, slow death. I am not in a good place, in other words. The Scizz
Living in the tri-state area, I don't get many chances to see my "beloved" Sabres play live, so when the opportunity arises, I usually jump on it. When I lived among the five boroughs of NYC, it was usually just for Ranger games at the Garden, and occasionally a road trip out to Nassau or the Meadowlands. However, since becoming the only member of the Deeg to move over the water to Hoboken, NJ, the trip to Newark for Devils games has become much easier. So on Wednesday night, accompanied by the Scizzette's father (a Devils fan), I ventured out to see the Sabres play live for the first time this season. These are my observations from the game. I have not looked at any stat lines, read any recaps, watched highlights, or even discussed the game with any members of the blogopolis. This is what I saw and the thoughts that followed. You forget how different it is watching live when you don't get many opportunities to do so. Also, I had a lot to drink last night, so some of my recollections are a bit fuzzy. Actually, I remember very little of the so-called "important hockey details". That's what happens when you have a Peroni, Sixpoint Smoked Baltic Porter, Sixpoint Diesel, Coney Island Mermaid Pilsner, two large Stella's, a Ramstein wheat beer, and finally an Elmer T. Lee bourbon as a nightcap. Thank God for Barcade's meat and cheese plate, otherwise I might not be standing right now. Blogger row credentials, here I come! The Barrister Seems to be a seasonably dreary but unseasonably warm day throughout the northeast today - global warming is REAL... Shhhh - and the news coming out of the various relevant-to-me pockets of the sports world is similarly good/bad. So, with a few free minutes to opine on those goings-on, exhausted from an afternoon deposition and still feeling the effects of the three hour conference yesterday afternoon (I love my job. I love my job. I love my job...), some thoughts... - Jordin Tootoo got suspended for two games for his hit on Miller Saturday night. I assume y'all have seen the hit by now, and if not trust that you can use Youtube like the rest of us. On the one hand, I like the suspension - he got tossed from the game anyway, so it really amounts to 2.5 games, and I am relieved that Shanahan didn't find another way to slap the Sabres in the face with his shriveled, tiny phallus. On the other hand, the two games, when set against the lack of any suspension for Lucic - a hit that actually caused injury and was, in my mind, just as egregious - appear to set a weird standard somehow related to whether a team does and does not have players conceived with the seed of Colin Campbell. Give yourself time to appreciate that visual image. YOU'RE WELCOME. The Yachtsman I know many of you were expecting some sort of recap of the Jets game this week, but more responsibility has been heaped upon me at work, so things have been pretty hectic here at One Bills Drive Apartment B BK NYC. The First Niagara Man Cave has been vacant since my last post. My apologies. What I can give you is a brief run down of some shit that I've been thinking about. ANALYSIS: STRONG POINT OF THE BLOG. - Podcast/CrapTastiCast/Posting: last week I was back in Tuffalo (don't ask), and the first thing my mother said to me was "so I listened to all 52 minutes of your Crappy Cast.....I believe I counted 167 fucks......but other than that I liked it!" followed immediately by my old man "Jesus do ya have to use so many swears? It's just classless." So Mom & Dad read/listen to the blog/cast. That's encouraging/frightening/embarrassing. Also, apologies for not bestowing another delightful CrapTastiCast on you this week. It's all Megs' fault. She's been too busy Occupying Wall Street (not joking). - Sabres: Met up with Scizzer for that barn burner of a Sabre match against the WINNIPEG JETS (suck it 3rd Man In! No more Southern Hockey!) on whatever night it was on. First, Ryan Miller is at least maddeningly inconsistent, so there's that. Also, I love OT wins. Also also, why the shit are we so off the wall at home? Also thrice, Kelly's Sports Bar in the East Village is no place for a human being. I refuse to stand pat any longer and accept this romanticizing of that place. It is a garbage hole. The toilets are shut down and I'm pretty sure I felt the floor collapse slightly at one point. I do not look forward to watching the next 67 games there. (Of course I'm going to though because they put the sound on and the people there are great and the bartenders are awesome and it provides my friends a break from me forcing them to drink at expensive craft beer bars....but seriously how does that place pass building code??) - Bills: RAGE. I understand dropping a turd here and there is going to happen at least once a season for many teams, but for reals Chanworth, you can't let your squad shit the bed that hard against a divisional rival at home. It's just not right. Especially when fans are dropping $100+ on scalped tickets and treating it like the Superbowl. HAVE THEM READY TO PLAY. Also, NFL officials are easily the biggest joke in all of sports. The idea that these guys are still part timers determining the on field fates of $1 billion+ enterprises is atrocious. Finally, the playcalling blew and the execution was almost as bad. Way to lay a steamer on the fan base, guys. - Final: Alright, Yachtswoman is evil eyeing me because I am postponing our hike, so here's my final thoughts: Big D is still Big D, and Big D at home is still fairly intimidating no matter if they're 8-0 or 0-8. The Sabres look like they're putting something nice together, so it remains to be seen whether or not they can keep it up (Apologist-esque comment....NEVER TAKE A SIDE APS, NEVER TAKE A SIDE). Predictions for tomorrow? I think the clunker continues with a 31-17 defeat of our lovely Bills at the hands of the OG dreamy mouthbreather QB, Tony Romo. However, I think the Sabres will give the champs a game tonight, maybe even pull off the win. They look like they're coming together whilst the Bills look like they're losing all that glorious momentum they had way back in early October. Sorry for the doom and gloom. I love you all. SIDENOTE: STAY TUNED HERE FOR A SICK TRACK FROM THE APOLOGIST'S LITTLE BROTHER. WE'RE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET IT TO YOU IN LIEU OF THE PODCAST THIS WEEK. #EVCREPRESENT below is another creepy video yet awesome song from The Yachtsman. The Barrister
Tuesday night, hopped up on a questionable cup of post-11 pm iced coffee, I put together a post about our Bills and Sabres in which I talked about the weirdness of the current state of things. Around 2 am, my laptop froze and I lost yet another post. It's altogether possible - nay, likely - that it was awful. Meh. Well, after a long ass Wednesday, topped off with a CrapTastiCast that is equal parts drivel and dick jokes, as well as a Sabres game that wasn't that much different, I've struggled through my morning with not a little bit of rage and there are a few things I need to unleash here on the Deeg, I just assume hit you all with some bullet points. Needless to say, while I'll do my best to be coherent, this may be all over the place.
Like what I said? Hate it? Think I'm a sanctimonious pile of shit? (me too!!) Leave a comment below, or tell me I'm an idiot on Twitter. Faceless Internet Potshots FTW. The Barrister I think it's fair to say that I tend to be the most optimistic of the DGWU Crew. Where the Yachtsman tends to be viciously cynical and pessimistic, the Apologist tends to be the realist who will somehow rationalize the shit sandwich on his plate, and the Scizz - for the most part - keeps a pretty level head (except when his emotions well up into a disproportionate response of some nature), I tend to exist on planes of daisies and roses where my team, just by virture of being mine, is believed to be capable of superhuman feats. I'll be the first to admit that I can often go overboard with what I believe our Sabres can do, particularly on an individual level. So, hat in hand, I think that maybe I could step back on my recent praise lavished on, say, Ryan Miller or Thomas Vanek. Or.... maybe not. After last night's contest, I don't think there's really a way - short of guaranteeing a Cup - that we all can be over-optimistic about this Sabres team. Ryan Miller is locked in, and seems to be playing at a superhuman level that we haven't seen since the Olympics. Thomas Vanek is, frankly, absurd - his two goals tonight were perfect examples of the myriad ways that he finds a way to be productive on the ice, and I don't know if we've EVER seen the guy play as well as he's playing right now. Toss in the rest of the guys, none of whom appears to be playing bad hockey - very easy to say when the team just notched a thorough, 60 minute effort for the shutout - and there is every reason to believe that this team is unstoppable. Perhaps I'm tempting fate, but fuck it - that game last night, and the majority of the team's moments since the season started, are giving me no choice but to believe the very best about what will become of the Sabres 2011-12 season. This team is very, very good. They'll probably come down to earth sometime, but for now, I can't ignore the basics - Buffalonian tendency to fear the worst be damned. However, in case you're shocked at my tempting of fate (if you can even really call it that...though, Yachtsman will, surely), don't worry... I'll be making my sacrifice to the hockey gods this weekend. Gotta cover my bases. For now, I'll be sitting in my state of awe just a little bit longer. The Barrister I really should stop drinking so much on nights when I'm on game recap duty. Yet, even with the three shots of Jameson - one, inexplicably, in celebration/mourning for Raphael Diaz' first NHL goal - and four tall boys of Labatt Blue, the message of the Sabres victory over the Canadiens was not hard to see. Ryan Miller is good at hockey. One of the things that we fans often get hung up on after a bad Sabres loss over the past few years is the need for Miller to steal games. Often, after a tight game where the offense struggles to get going and Miller lets in a couple of softies, we hear a chorus of criticisms directed towards #30 as people question whether he is the real deal, whether he''ll ever regain that Olympic form, and whether this team can possibly win a Cup with him playing potentially human - as opposed to superhuman - hockey. While I think there is certainly merit in the discussion that follows some particularly disappointing games - last Friday's against Carolina, for instance - I tend to be pretty frustrated with such rash criticisms of Miller because such arguments appear to blatantly disregard performances like the one we just saw. Like the Carolina game, this was not a game the Sabres deserved to win. However, for whatever reason, Miller's game was elevated to a second gear and the team was able to ride his coattails. His 40 saves on the night, 14 of which were in the first period while the Sabres could only muster 3 shots in response, were the reason why the Sabres won tonight. Where Friday's game saw him exposed by pretty unstoppable scoring chances, tonight's game saw him in complete and utter control. And, where Friday's game was begging for him to lock it in and create just a little breathing room for the offense to finally find its legs and toss a couple pucks in the net, tonight's game included just that - a Ryan Miller performance that keeps the Sabres in it, despite the fact that they look sluggish and uninspired and outmatched by an arguably weaker opponent. Eventually and perhaps unsurprisingly, with as much talent as this Sabres team has, the tying and go-ahead goals came and Miller's herculean effort was rewarded by the "just enough" production of the skaters in front of him. Maybe it's the booze, combined with my adoration for Miller generally, but - conceding that we do get maddening and disappointing nights from Miller sometimes - it seems like we get the superhuman, game-stealing (or at least game-preserving) version of #30 way more often than some fans give him credit for. It's for that reason, particularly as we trudge through these opening weeks of the season, still so far from the games that really matter, that I have a lot of faith in where this team can go...and specifically where Miller can take them. But, enough about my man crush on the lanky and semi-awkward-looking gentleman from Michigan. Other things I noticed between the Jameo shots and checking in on the progress of the #ParlezVousMyBallsYouFrenchBitches hashtag on Twitter::
In the meantime, enjoy my embedding skills (cut & paste, bitches!) and the highlights from last night, in case you missed them and don't know how to type nhl.com in your browser. The Scizz Welcome to the continuation of my Summer movie preview. Of course if you read the May and June posts, you know that with each look at a summer blockbuster, I tie it together with a Sabres player/personality. I have enjoyed myself thus far and I hope you have too. After going to see Thor, I truly was picturing Tyler Myers throwing a giant hammer at Chara’s face, and after seeing Bridesmaids I realized that I was totally in the right. That the movie is totally not what I originally expected. Try watching any scene with Melissa McCarthy without laughing hysterically, and if you don't, then you are inhuman or a douche-bag hipster....same difference. I should also mention the DGWU crew had their own version of the Hangover during our last CrapTastiCast. Yikes. I dare you to piece together the night before after listening to that atrocity. Without further ado, here is your July Summer movie preview: Sabres Edition. Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon - July 1st (update: this movie has now been pushed up to June 29th for maximum coinage) Jason Pominville This is a long, weird reference. And no, Pommers does not remind me of Optimus Prime, nor does he have a powerful voice like the great Peter Cullen. What he does have is the ability to spark my interest and aduration, and then leave me disappointed and unsure of my true feelings. I’m aware that sounds pretty odd, but my relationship/fandom towards #29 has been a clusterfuck, much like Michael Bay’s series of Transformers films. Back in 2007, I thought Pominville was one of the most skillful players on the Sabres Roster. He finished the season with 68 points, splitting even in goals and assists (34 & 34 if you can’t do math….dummy). He quickly became one of my favorite players after his 80 point season the following year, but many of my friends (and future DGWU colleagues) disagreed with me. They thought he was over-rated and they could not understand my love for him. I went as far as to purchase his slug-head jersey a few months into the 2007 season. Similarily in 2007, the film Transformers was released and despite it’s over the top action, terrible acting, and lack of real storyline, I loved it. I know most people think that it’s crap, but I thought it was highly entertaining crap and to this day I will defend it to the bitter end. I’m not saying it’s the Godfather, but it does the job. I tell you both of these stories because within the next couple of years, Jason Pominville started playing softer than a pomeranian puppy and completely forgot how to put the puck in the net. He always seemed out of position and was now disappointing me ALL THE TIME. Within this same time frame, the sequel to Transformers was released and that fucking disaster made the original impossible to defend. Both would immediately get lumped together and my argument that the first film was not all that bad would fall on deaf ears as someone brought up two highly racist robots that would make Mel Gibson feel uncomfortable. Same with Pommers (except the racism part as far as I know). It has become increasingly difficult to defend his first few seasons because the last few have been full of under-achieving moments. I take shit from people everytime I don the jersey. But now, as we approach the next season, my hopes for both Pominville and the newest Transformers film are high. #29 has solidified himself as possibly our top penalty killer, which became painfully obvious after he was knocked out of game five against the Flyers. He was also digging for pucks, crashing the boards, and skating harder than I had seen in a long time. And with Transformers: Dark of the Moon, early reviews are saying that Bay has made the best film in the series. I recently read that the final battle scene in Chicago is one for the ages. Here is hoping both save their potential legacy in sports and pop-culture, respectively. Horrible Bosses - July 8th Larry Quinn Who else but Quinny? Can you think of a more horrible boss? Why was he allowed to be a “boss” for so long anyways? Why does he always have that smug look on his face? AND WHY THE FUCK WAS THAT STUPID PICTURE EVER TAKEN? Damnit, I hate him. I know he is long gone but that taste of spoiled milk and bile still lingers. Anyways, this movie looks pretty funny and has three of my favorite comedic actors trying to hatch a plan to murder their awful bosses. If only Adam Mair and Andrew Peters could have got on that a few years ago. Wait….can someone please put that photoshop together??? There may be a cool bumper sticker in it for you!!! Winnie the Pooh - July 15th Timmy Connolly Sorry but I could not resist. This was too easy to pick out when I started planning these posts. Winnie the Pooh is a soft, cuddly bear who is always getting into silly hijinks. He also has an obsession with honey that gets him into trouble; like getting stuck in a tree. Tim Connolly is a soft forward who is always getting injured. He also has obsession with booze and tail on Chippewa street that has got him into trouble; like getting punched in the face by his teammate, Derek Roy. See how much fun this is? But seriously, why is there a Winnie the Pooh movie in the middle of the summer? Shouldn’t this come out in February, where movies go to die? Or maybe around the holidays when parents take their kids to see this junk! This movie being released in the middle of the summer film season is as inexplicable as the Sabres resigning Tim Con….OHDEARGODNO! Captain America: The First Avenger - July 22nd Ryan Miller This was the gem that my entire series was based on. We already know who Captain America is, and it’s not that chump who played Human Torch in those shitty Fantastic Four movies. Ryan Miller is the savior of our nation, and the fact that we was not even considered for the lead role in this film is a travesty. I mean c’mon people, this guy uses a shield to block projectiles??? Millsie only needs a stick and a glove! THAT is bad ass. He would be smokin’ Nazis left and right amidst cheers of USA! USA! USA! from anyone in earshot. The only negative is a lot of those guys look like Jochen Hecht, but hopefully he won’t take it too personal. All joking aside, this movie actually looks pretty kick-ass. Chris Evans isn’t all that bad, and I really liked his turn in Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. Hugo Weaving of my nerd trifecta; Matrix, Lord of the Rings, and V for Vendetta plays the Marvel super villain Red Skull with what looks to be all make-up and no shitty CGI. Finally, the fact that this is a WWII period piece that is the final lead in to the 2012 Avengers movie makes it pretty intriguing. BUT….how awesome would it be to see Ryan Miller in that outfit, only carrying his stick and glove instead of the shield? Hmmm. Halloween idea! Tune in next week for the August round of the Scizz’s summer movie preview: Sabres edition, in which I look at damn dirty apes, old goalies, powerful Austrians, and your typical Paul Rudd summer comedy. Thanks for reading, and remember….Leonard Maltin is a dick.
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