That's right. 'Cause lord knows my boy needs it. Just days after being named NHL Second Star of the Week coming off 3 straight wins (including that glorious performance against the Thrashers), Thomas melted down in the net against the onslaught of Ovechkin and the Capitals; he actually got pulled TWICE from that game. Tonight was another rough night for Thomas, as my boy let up 5 goals in an 8-2 loss to the Maple Leafs (insert joke about Canadians not being able to spell here). Wahh!
This is truly sad -- not only for the Bruins' playoffs chase, but because Thomas has been such a joy to watch goaltend this season. His unconventional, highly aggressive style is nothing short of dazzling at times, and he always displays a charming, boyish giddiness in press conferences after games where he knows he's done well. I'm laying it all on the table, as I am wont to do: I love me some Tim Thomas. Now, some have suggested that the best thing for me to do as a pro-active Bruins fan would be for me to provide Thomas with, er, some womanly attention. To which I say: nay. My love for Tim Thomas exists on a far more transcendent level than that. Thus, Tim Thomas, I send you my undying love and devotion via this series of tubes that we call the Internet. I believe in your ability to lead us into the postseason in a blaze of glory. I BELIEVE IN YOU, Tim Thomas.
You knew I wouldn't put that big, ugly, not-at-all-sports-related rant up without also giving you a frosty chocolate milkshake to wash it down with. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to party with dinosaurs? Now you know, courtesy of the incomparable Whitest Kids U' Know.
Of course I'm on Facebook. Of course I'm addicted. I'm a recent college graduate with friends in countless different parts of the world (not to be confused with "hos in different area codes"), and I like keeping in touch with them. Plus, if there's a better tool for obsessing over cute boys, I haven't seen it.
But oh, I loathe so many, many things about Facebook. The tacky "applications." The games idiot people in idiot relationships play with changing their "status." And, above all, I hate the groups. "Haha you guys, let's make an automatically generated online page with an inside joke on it so it can occupy a line of text on the lower left corner of my profile and let the world know that I can enjoy the same jokes that 10,000 other dipshits do!" Kill me. Slowly and painfully.
Still, the typical inanity of such groups aside, I stumbled across this group today (which, I am sorry to report, two of my friends appear to have joined). Billing itself as "Young People AGAINST Barack Obama for President," the group appears to be a message board on which ultra-conservative young folks (god, I went to school with so many of those) can vent their poorly-constructed and empty arguments against the Liberal Left. I believe my favorite argument is the one suggesting that a vote for Barack is a vote for Hitler:
I agree with all of the supporters of Obama who cite the fact that he is a masterful orator. However, so was Hitler. So is Ahmadinejad. The dangers of his semantics and speeches enraptures the less self-aware and politically conscious electorate.
Really? The LESS self-aware and politically conscious? Oh, but not to worry -- there is a solution (a Final Solution?):
As disgusting as the idea sounds, we must ensure that Clinton receives the Democratic nomination.
I didn't realize college kids could sound so EVIL. "[We] must ensure..." Yikes! This group is just one more example of what I always experience when I read or listen to right-wing rhetoric. The kind of thing I might say while parodying such rhetoric (while twirling my moustache, wearing my tophat, and looking shiftily out through my monocle) is what people like this ACTUALLY SAY.
Now, all my good friends know me to be an ardent Clinton supporter -- in fact, I've devoted many hours to working on her campaign. Still, I like Obama a great deal, and would happily give him my vote were he to earn the Democratic nomination. And hot damn does this group make me mad. Madder than when I see a douchebag in a Yankees hat at the Cask & Flagon. Madder than when people walk slow on the sidewalk in front of me. Hell, even madder than when I rant about Jose Canseco. If anyone is friends with someone in this group, I highly encourage you to, like, not be.
Working from home means lots of time to play with my computer. I finally figured out how to download photos from my phone -- lookie! Here's a shot from my seat at the Bruins game Tuesday night (no, not the 10-2 game, thankfully):
I really think it's time for the NHL to switch to an international-sized rink, don't you? I mean, this is just ridiculously small.
Sadly, I didn't figure out until just now how to change the resolution on my camera such that the file size won't be, well, teeny. If you squint, you can ALMOST see hockey players... proof that this is indeed a hockey game, and not a showing of Disney's High School Musical on Ice!
Why do I feel like KG might be singing to the ball in this picture? Perhaps it's a still from the upcoming musical adaptation of the Celtics' 2008 season?
This surely doesn't come as surprising news -- I think everyone's been expecting to see the C's make it to the playoffs since before the season even started. But last night's 90-78 victory over Detroit sealed the deal, making the Celtics the first team in the NBA to earn a berth in this year's playoffs with a month and a half still left to play. Chauncy Billups was on Rajon Rondo like cheese on nachos and still couldn't hold him, as Rondo scored 16; Kevin Garnett contributed a season-high 31 points; Kendrick Perkins had 20 FREAKING BOARDS. It was a close game most of the way until the C's went on a 12-0 tear with around 5 minutes left in the 4th quarter and made it official. Well done, boys. This girl's proud of you.
Yeah, yeah. Western Conference ridiculously competitive stronger defense faster level of play more playoffs experience blah blah. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
So, there's been a bit of a debate going on in the comments below about the proper definition of a "Natural Hat Trick" in hockey. Fortunately, we have with us today one of hockey's all-time greats to clear things up:
(clears throat) Ahem. A natural hat trick is when a player scores either a) a goal in each of the three periods, b) three goals in one period, or c) three of his team's goals in succession in one game.
Thanks, Bobby!
In other words, we were ALL right. Isn't that special?
Today is the first warm day we've had in Boston. It's a glorious 56 degrees outside (that's officially referred to as "polka-dot dress weather" in Raquel-speak), and it seems only fitting to welcome the spring thaw with another spring tradition. That's right, kids... it's time to dust off my hatred of those pinstripers from the Bronx and bring it back to front and center on my mantle.
Now, I'll admit that the sheer joy of our thrilling journey to World Championship Land last fall was almost enough to sate my baseball bloodlust, rendering me magnanimous in victory and simply unconcerned with those pesky Yanks. However, I can thank the excellent Sports Herniafor reminding me why I should NEVER FORGET what unbelievable chumps who deserve to get their asses handed to them in painful and embarrassing fashion the Bronx Bombers truly are. From the mouth of Hank Steinbrenner:
"Go anywhere in America and you won't see Red Sox hats and jackets, you'll see Yankee hats and jackets. This is a Yankee country. In fact, it reminds me of that great Chevy commercial about how 'this is our country', I feel as though that was written with the New York Yankees in mind. We're going to put the Yankees back on top and restore the universe to order."
First of all, [deep breath] GUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Second of all, I thought the Rockies had already claimed to be America's team. Third of all, seriously Hank, SHUT UP. Everything you say is garbage. We know you're trying to step out from under Daddy's shadow, but surely there are ways to accomplish that other than by being an insufferable blowhard. Oh, and it gets worse:
"Now from what I've seen and what my baseball people tell me, they have a fine closer up there in young Papelbon. But I'll be damned if he's the only one doing the Irish jig and running around like Shelley Duncan and my younger Yankees. Let it be known to Red Sox nation that when the Yankees board the Death Star and make their way to Boston for the first time this season in April, you can bet I'll be dancing on their logo as soon as I get there. And if they shave those funny looking socks into the mound area, you can be damn sure I'll be dancing on those too."
Now that's just... like... weird. Is he honestly, deliberately comparing his Yankees to the evil empire of death and destruction in Star Wars? Shouldn't that be the image he's trying NOT to cultivate if they are, in fact, America's team? Will the Yankees actually be riding a gigantic moon-sized space station with the firepower to destroy an entire planet to their first series in Boston? God, I'm so confused!
Ahh... I can feel the Yankees hatred flowing back into my veins, as strong as it ever was. All is right with the world.
It's almost enough to make a girl forget about that embarrassing 10-2 ass-kicking by the Capitals last night. ALMOST. There can't be many players who've managed to score a hat trick within one freaking period of a hockey game...
