Hey, how you doing? How about them Preds, huh?

Well, it seemed like you had a good time last night, being back in Denver for the first time since leaving for the Flyers. Also, I have to say, the pregame interview and stuff I read in the papers make it appear that you kind of miss it here. I hope the fans made you feel welcome, and that the little video tribute to your time here was nice. Thanks for taking a moment to acknowledge the fans.

Of course, everyone is now wondering what you are going to do when the season ends. Will you look for a free agent contract in the NHL, go play in Europe, or retire? Well, let me make a little proposal to you.

You are always welcome back here. And it would be nice if you came back, not only for your skill, but to maybe work with some of the up and coming kids we have now. Also, how about we resign Scott Parker as a bit of a bodyguard for you. Plus, we have a little extra cash laying around that we didn’t have when you left. Could be a match remade in heaven.

So, you know, just think about it.

Just saying.

Technorati : Forsberg, Hockey, NHL

(clicky makey biggie)

From the bar at Le Can, club level. Lines? What lines? And the beer is Molson Canadian, probably brewed right here in Colorado.

Hockey is a fantastic sport. For me, it is simply the best sport out there, and nothing else compares. But if I were to be forced to name another sport I like, I would have to pick lacrosse. As far as the blatant and obvious similarity are concerned, box (indoor) lacrosse is not a major jump from hockey, while outdoor lacrosse has a few more rules and player structures involved. But the most obvious similarity is:

You have to take a thing and put it into another thing to earn points.

Simple, easy. Pretty much black and white. If you get some friends together and play, that is all that matters, that the things go into the other thing, as many times as possible (of course, not getting hurt by said things is pretty up there). You put the thing in, you are a god, and if you do not, you are a failure. One of these things in another thing equals one point. That is the universe making sense.

“But, Tapeleg, aren’t you an American? How can you possibly understand such things? You people do strange things for strange point values in your sports. I like cake.”

Yes, I am, but the value of those sports are lost on me. There is no thing in other thing. Like so.

Football
While I understand that the two major ways of scoring have different difficulties, and therefore two different point values, you are not putting things in other things, unless you consider a player with a ball being put in the end-zone. Even then, it’s more like he is on a certain area, rather than in something. We need in-ness people. In is in. Also, I have never seen a game so steeped in rules about body contact where the whole point was body contact. Clutching and grabbing are ruining the sport of football (oh, wait)
Bonus reason: What the hell is play action? Everything is play action. It’s a game. They are just making this stuff up.

Basketball
Let’s get one thing straight. There is no thing going into another thing. It is going through another thing. In one end, and out the other. That distinction alone should be enough. On top of that, when someone does anything worthy of points in basketball, they, at minimum, double up. Two for the price of one, and if you do the same damn thing from a slightly greater distance, you get to triple your value. What insanity. Congrats, you just did something obscure, which will happen over and over again, from one foot farther away. You get more points, and don’t you feel just great about it. Imagine getting two goals because you put the puck in the net from past the blueline. Chaos would rule the planet. Also, any defensive system based on the principle of I’m-not-touching-you is just silly and should be manned up.
Bonus reason: Hockey sounds cool. Basketball squeaks. It sounds like mice being beaten. Awful stuff.

Baseball
Item One: Bat. Good start
Item Two: Ball. Nice, now we’re talking.
Item Three: Nothing. What?
In baseball, you have all the implements of putting things into other things with skill and difficulty. But what baseball manages to do is take away the interest of having other things. Instead, a giant game of keep away is played, and tomorrow, they will do it again. In fact, why isn’t there an arena baseball league. They could play the damn thing year round. The most excitement in the game is when a player tries to put a thing in another thing, mostly a pitcher trying to put a ball into a batters head.
Bonus reason: For those who do not understand the rules of hockey, please see the infield fly rule. Or the Balk. Whatever the hell they are, I have no time for rules like that.

Soccer
Look at the title of the post. Things. Thing-S. As in plural. If only one thing goes in during an hour and a half of play, I feel completely hosed. It may not be the most educated and enlightened way of looking at it, but there is a certain bang for buck I should have. One thing per hour an minimum sounds about right. Also, at the end of the game, when time runs out, they sometimes keep playing. What the hell is going on here? The game is over, you can go home now. This is sports, there are no encores.
Bonus reason: Soccer offsides makes me insane. Just stop it.

Golf:
Don’t even start with me. A thing goes into another thing, yes. But not for points, and not for anything you want. You want less. Less is more, less is better. Hey, you want less, then stop playing. Pick up the ball, if you are man enough to call that little thing a ball, and go the hell home. Shouldn’t you be conditioning for next season?
Bonus reason: If you do not make the playoffs, this is what you play. Nuff said.

Lightning round:

Wrestling: Nope
NASCAR: No
Poker: Not even a sport
Pool: Barely, but still, not a sport
Rodeo: Huh?
Strawberries: Are you even paying attention?
Cycling: Things? Other things? No.
Field Hockey: Does that even exist? If so, maybe.
Spelling Bee: No, but more manly than basketball.

So, there you have it. I think we all agree, hockey is the rockingest sport ever. Things, other things, and as an added bonus, it goes well with beer. HOCKEY!!!

I was wondering who would finally tag me with this meme, started by Jes. It turned out not to be the beer and rum swilling offseason compatriots of mine, but rather, a couple bloggers up in Eastern Conference of Canada. Thanks Sherry and E. Cards and flowers will soon be coming.

Hockey Team: Colorado Avalanche (come on, you knew it), Drafted originally by the Boston Bruins, traded to the Avs for the Bag O Pucks, end of career comes in the CHL playing for the Colorado Eagles, where I stay one year too long, and everyone takes pity on an old man.

Number: 5

Nickname: TL, Tapesy, Asshat, Shower Curtain, Tape “Killer” Leg

Position: Defensive Defenseman

Linemates: John-Micheal Liles, or Sherry

Rounding out the PP: I only kill the penalties, beating them to death with a large stuffed animal won in a Whack-A-Mole game against Ian Laperriere , then cutting their hearts out with a spoon (it’s dull, you twit, it’ll hurt more), and J-S Giguere (who is traded to the Avs for Theodore and a Bag O Pucks).

Job: Stopping the 2-on-1 against, clearing pucks, working the corners, hip checking.

Signature Move: On the 2-on-1, being unpredictable to the offense.

Strengths: Good backwards skating, working alone when necessary, wrist shot, backhand pass, laughing at opposition.

Weaknesses: Wrists, no slapshot (see:wrists), can’t fight (see: wrists).

Injury Problems: See: wrists

Equipment: Last player in the NHL to use a wooden stick. When asked about it in the media, has stated, “Hey, the damn thing never breaks. See?” At which point, the stick was brought down hard on the bench at my locker, and shattered into a thousand pieces. Much laughter followed. I buy another one for $20.

Nemesis: Joel Quenneville, Donald Brashear

Scandal Involvement: Was accused of turtling in fights, seeing as how I would never win one. Not one. Turns out I’m just really bad at it, and in an attempt to save my bacon, I would “lose my balance”, fall to the ice, taking the other player with me, and essentially end the fight. My good name would be restored when Derek Boogaard confirms that I hit like a little girl in a church outfit on Sunday.

Who I’d face in the Stanley Cup Finals: New Jersey Devils. After a hard fought battle, the Avs win 3-0. After the game, in the handshake line, J-S Giguere looks Brodeur in the eyes and says, “Now you know how it feels, fucker.” I shake hands with John Madden and tell him he has the head of a Tonka truck. Madden cries as he leaves the ice.

What I’d do with the Stanley Cup after our victory: Take it home and recreate the De Niro in Taxi Driver: “You talkin’ to me?” Cup becomes my best friend.