Seventeen years ago “Mighty Ducks” turned me into a hockey fan. That’s officially over half my life. Very odd for someone who was born and raised in Texas and a sport that was born and raised in Canada. Before Norm Green moved the Stars to Dallas about the only thing the countries of Canada and Texas had in common was a love for beer and the ability to produce a good bull rider. Now, there is absolutely no doubt Texas is THE predominant hockey state in the South and kids are growing up in Dallas loving the Stars just as much as the Cowboys, Rangers or Mavericks. There are two main reasons for its popularity: the Stars have produced Dallas’ only championship in 14 years…and Mike Modano.

Meeting Modano for the first time, 1994

Although it was pretty much apparent at the end of this season that Modano was more than likely not returning, the Stars officially sealed the deal yesterday. So it’s time to say goodbye. When it came to the growth of a sport, Modano was twice the hockey ambassador to Dallas than Gary Bettman only wished Sidney Crosby was to the United States. Our appreciation for the game, mine specifically, is about 90% thanks to him. In 17 years I’ve only had two actual legitimate favorite players, Mike Modano and Jamie Langenbrunner. The others (such as Petr Buzek) were total personal infatuations and took on a stalking life of their own. So basically, Modano will forever be King of Hockey in my world and in this neck of the woods. I call mutiny if 9 isn’t hanging from the rafters of American Airlines Center before the first puck drops next season.

Modano wants to keep playing and should he do so, seeing him in another jersey won’t be anything less than weird and heartbreaking. I want him to be happy, so a fresh start (as with Marty Turco) just might do the trick. I agree with Mike Heika, “a happy Modano would be fun to watch“.

I know this isn’t officially goodbye, as much as Mike loves Dallas, it’s more like see you later…just not on our ice in our colors. All I ask, for the love, don’t go all Favre on us, Mo.

Readers, I really hate Mondays. The only things I hate worse than Mondays are the Eagles, Scott Gomez, the 101 and water chestnuts. What makes this Monday particularly atrocious: we open a movie on Friday so there’s potential for mutiny in the office, I HAVE to go grocery shopping after work and no one likes that (if you do, you’re a weirdo), I couldn’t care less about tonight’s MNF, I’m fighting off the bitterness of losing my first fantasy football game (by less than five points; McGahee – you’re on my shit list, son) and it’s so gloomy outside I should be at home under two blankets, snuggled with the pooches, watching Battlestar Gallactica, drinking hot chocolate topped with a scoach of Bailey’s. Mmm.

In a painful effort to be positive (blurgh) I do have to say that today is somewhat bearable because I managed to put makeup on before noon, am loving my new scarf from Old Navy, have a cold, cold Diet Coke on my desk (the elixir or life), the newness and lickability of the Taylor Lautner Rolling Stone photo shoot hasn’t worn off (my heart dies every time they put a football in that kid’s hands) and the interwebs are totes overloaded with Miles Austin.

Record breaking run

I feel like I’ve spent the last year and a half on the campaign trail for this young, blue-eyed wideout from Jersey (yeah, I try to forget that tidbit) to become the next President of the Dallas Cowboys Receiving Core. I don’t think ANYONE was ever listening to me or taking me seriously. Can’t really say I blame you, but it’s whatever now…cause eff you. Nikki FTW.

As an uber fan, it’s imperative to stick to your man through thick and thin. However, (here’s the segue from one version of today’s topic to the next…wait for it…) at what point does a TEAM stop sticking with a player through thick and thin? Tis a tricky predicament, that one. I hear this is a business, after all.

Last week I caught most of ESPN’S “30 on 30″ about Edmonton trading Gretzky to LA. Holy pucks the uproar that caused…the GM’s family even had to leave town. Koo koo Canadians. Not that I can blame them, that would be like America gifting the Statue of Liberty to Canada. We’d have to do more than just call shenanigans. Anyhow, in addition, several weeks ago PTI covered Phillies’ pitcher Brad Lidge’s horrific slump towards the end of the MLB regular season. Kornheiser commented that during the playoffs “you cannot put a guy out there you don’t have confidence in.” True story…perhaps?

How the Oilers and Phillies handled each of these situations was dependent upon what was best for the organizations, not what the fans wanted. In the end, Gretzky is now responsible for the explosion of hockey in Los Angeles, if not the entire Western United States and Lidge led the defending champs to a 6-5 victory over the Rockies last night to take a 2-1 lead in the NLDS. A personal example: I was destroyed when the Stars left Petr unprotected during the 1999 expansion draft and Atlanta took him. DESTROYED. But although his pro career didn’t last long afterward, he spent the majority of it in the NHL, made the All Star Team as a rookie and won a world championship. Chances are none of that would’ve happened if he’d stayed with the Stars. And I got to go to Atlanta and Calgary! Good times. Sometimes you just gotta let it play out.

Open issues

Having said that, there are some major issues on the table in Dallas. Do the Cowboys stand by Romo? Do the Stars stick with Turco? Both are huge fan favorites, but these aren’t questions that just popped up last week. These are 2-3 year-old problems. Neither of these guys have proved their worth in the playoffs. And right now neither of them are proving consistency in the regular season. I know it’s early, but again, these are long term open wounds. Not one of my mystery bruises that randomly pop up after I’ve been drinking. I don’t even know how *I* feel about what should be done. Although you’ll never see me wearing his jersey, I like Romo, he seems like a good dude. But damn. And Turco is even tougher. I have personal ties to him that make it heart-wrenching, so I kinda avoid talking about him. I really can’t imagine Marty on another team.

But at the end of the day, I’m honest enough to admit that my loyalty is to the teams over any individual player and selfish enough to say I want to see the Stanley Cup and Lombardi Trophy back in Dallas. No team should sell their souls for or buy a championship (*cough* Yankees) but changes, albeit temporarily hurtful to the fans, sometimes have to be made.

December of 1998 I wrapped up my first semester of college and took a week-long trip to see the boys in Kalamazoo. I think I even arranged to take two finals early. Remind me never to lecture anyone on organizing priorities.  BTdubs, I wish I could remember where I got the money to do all of that crap, I don’t think I even worked that year. Leftover graduation money perhaps? I need to figure it out, cause here I am 11 years and several tax brackets later and haven’t been on a real vacation since March 2004. Anyhow, I digress.

I was 18, didn’t drink (seriously), innocent as could be (no, really) and was a smitten kitten over at least four or five of the K-Wings (all Stars property). Petr you know about, the rest are still playing – two in Europe, one in the NHL and one belongs to an NHL team but is in the AHL in Texas (go figure).  None of them were saints. Hell, I’m pretty sure the Devil himself created one of them, somewhere between the strapless bra and Facebook. I’ve no doubt he invented all three with the intention of torturing womankind. Devil Spawn and his BFF (the one now in Texas…are you keeping up?) were inseparable evil. If I hadn’t been oozing with Southern Belle goodness, I would’ve been walking into double trouble on NUMEROUS occasions. I labeled them a “you’d either wind up dead or pregnant manwhich”. However, on top of the goody two-shoes-ness, I also had older, wiser friends looking out for me. MANY of them. And with magnifying glasses.

A must read for any young female hockey fan!

As an early Christmas present in ‘98 my friend Janelle gave me a book called “Crossing the Line” with strict instructions to read it before I stepped foot back into Kalamazoo. This book is BANANAS. Should my future daughter ever utter the words “Mom, me and my friends are going to Kings practice”, after I refrain from stroking out, I’m gonna be like “you’re grounded from hockey players until you’re 30 and read this book. Now.”

No one will dispute the fraternal nature of a locker room, whether it be hockey, football or cricket for all I know. There is too much raging testosterone and too many uncovered penises in one small space (and too much alcohol consumed off the ice/field) to do anyone any good. However, I wish I was a good enough writer to put into words the bond, brotherhood and unwritten code amongst hockey players. While doing some digging for this post I came across another book, “Men at Play: A Working Understanding of Professional Hockey“, which I’m ordering toute suite. I hope it can spell it out better, I only know what I saw. Some of these guys were born and bred to play hockey. They were ripped from their homes (MOST of them by choice) not too long after their voices changed to be immersed in the system. As if high school isn’t hard enough, right? “Crossing the Line” is a no holds barred, balls out examination of how junior hockey impacts such vulnerable, wee lads.

The entire hockey world was slapped in the face when Sheldon Kennedy announced he was abused by his junior hockey coach.  This week Theo Fleury, one of the WHL’s most notable exports, admitted he was sexually abused by the very same man. So although Canadian junior hockey is a staunch tradition, fabulous to watch (I’ve been to a handful of games) and produces some of the best players in North America, if not the world, the system leaves it’s marks. As if those two examples aren’t horrific enough, the culture can affect not only the players themselves, but also the girls and women around them.

Side note, Devil Spawn’s team is examined at length in “Crossing the Line”. Coincidence? Yeah…not so much. And don’t get me wrong, Readers…I still love me some hockey players!!! Bless their hearts.

1999 was a good year, Readers. That’s the year the Stars won the Cup and although it was AMAZING, it ended up rather bittersweet. You know how in relationships sex changes everything? In sports, championships change everything. I’ve touched on this before, but to recap..the Stars were rather accessible (a little to accessible at times) before Lord Stanley came to Dallas. Practices were completely open, players were cool, ticket prices were awesome and I knew the ins and outs of Reunion Arena like the back of my hand. The Stanley Cup and American Airlines Center being built changing all that, coupled with me generally growing up, forced my hockey life into the shitter.

Triple, triple, toil and trouble

I honestly never thought I could get my mojo back. Oh me of little faith. In an effort to mentally escape the terror that is work right now, I’ve spent the last couple of days getting hockeyfied. Holy pucks, it feels good. Like the perfect margarita kinda good. I’ve been reading blogs, skimming season previews from all over, watching videos, analyzing Brenden Morrow’s various hairstyles, wondering what moisturizer Modano uses cause his skin looks too good for his age and the life I know he’s led AND I joined a fantasy hockey team – time to get back in the know. In addition, I took advantage of the internet and old hockey friends to find a new player to love on. It’s like online dating, but a very, very Nikki version.

Someone should warn Matt Niskanen. Or at least tell him he’s lucky I’m 1200 miles away. Cause I used to be good at this game and I’m assuming it’s like riding a bike.

Player obsessions aside, I LOVE hockey. I’ve never figured out how and why I took to it as fast and as well as I did back in 1993. I was 13 and not really into anything other than a dwindling fascination with Christian Slater and the kid who played Spot in Newsies. I grew up in Texas in a rodeo family, something I wasn’t ever quite into despite my mother’s numerous attempts. Hockey was foreign where I came from, but new, intriguing and eventually helped shaped my individuality. I was hockey when hockey wasn’t cool. I owe my best high school and college memories to hockey, hockey players and hockey friends. I don’t think I ever really lost that part of my life, it’s still been there, aging like a fine wine perhaps? I sipped a little of it last year. But now it feels like I’m coming home. And I think it’s time for a welcome home party, yes? *cue music from someone getting her sass on in a CW preview here*

Have a happy NHL opening weekend, Readers! For Stars/hockey fans visiting CLSL for the first time, what I refer to as “My Hockey History” can be found here: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3. But you’ve been warned, it’s a wicked trip down memory lane.

One of my other favorite lady-ran sports blogs is Ladies… They’re on my blogroll (well, will be on it when it have it up and running again) and I follow them on Twitter. Today they had a post regarding pro athletes use of Twitter and the recent social networking crackdown from the NFL. They asked what we think, I almost commented…but realized that my comment was turning into an entire ramble that was more fitting for, well, here.

I’m absolutely fascinated by the tweets of all these football players. Martellus Bennett is on the Cowboys so I love him, but he is batshit crazy. But as long as he catches the ball, fool can be all sorts of crazy. TO’s bible verses were, what’s the right word, uncomfortable? Completely random? I’ll just go with odd. Pics of his recent mani/pedi were kinda like a train wreck, you just had to keep looking (much like the entire TO Show). Chris Cooley is a douche, but he’s on my fantasy team so I have to grin and bear it. OchoCinco…is self explanatory. But like the Ladies pointed out, it’s the little things I find interesting: what a player thought about a movie he just watched…or what song(s) he’s listening to get pumped up for a game. That part is no different than me saying “ugh, stuck in bloody traffic on the 101 AGAIN, but hey I’ve got Bob Schneider to keep me company” They’re multimillion dollar pro athletes, but they’re also varying forms of normal, just like us.

[Let's pause whilst I think about what it would be like to really have Bob to keep me company...]

I can look at this whole sitch as two different versions of me. The Nikki from over 10 years ago and the Nikki of today. Nikki from today is (on paper) mature, grown up, only internet stalks guys she’s actually involved with on some level (or was), is a huge football and hockey fan still, but is all about being a fan instead of going googly for a player. OKAY, aside from that whole Miles Austin thing, which is why I hope blue eyes NEVER gets a damn Twitter. But for the big pros who do have Twitters, Facebooks or official pages, I think it’s absolutely wonderful and in the age of the deteriorating player image, it’s the best thing that could’ve happen. Especially for poor hockey.

If the Twitter bird can make the playoffs in goal, the Stars should sign him

However, high school/college Nikki was bananas for hockey players. More on that can be found here, here and here. I think about what it would’ve been like if Twitter and Facebook existed THEN and my brain partially strokes out. (My college roommate is totes going to have a major *facepalm* moment when she reads that). I would have been absolutely uncontrollable. I already knew enough, I already made a big enough fool out of myself and I already put myself in plenty of a precarious situations. I’m not even talking about the biggies like Mike Modano and Jamie Langenbrunner. I’m talking about the pups, the rookies, the ones who were already way too accessible to me. Sweet Jesus I loved those boys. Petr could’ve been like “boozer25: going to play game now” and I woulda been all “nikkihearts25: @boozer25 OMG I LOVE YOU AND WILL HAVE 10,000 OF YOUR BABIES.” Now given, I’m overestimating Petr’s use of the English language at the time and underestimating what ability I did actually have to control myself and the words that came out of my mouth. But you get my point.

I was a good girl little girl with stars in my eyes (no pun intended) though, despite what it sounds like, and although I was a basket case over at least two players over the years, I handled myself well most of the time. But for every one of me? There were a dozen crazyspices out there who didn’t quite have my boundaries. I knew a few and although I turned in my Official Player Stalking Club card years ago, I’m assuming they still exist in minor league arenas all throughout the country. THAT is why Twitter worries me. For all these little manchildren playing in the minors out there, oy vey for them.

Can’t lie, now my brain is working on would’ve been tweets for some of the other guys. At least the ones it wouldn’t have completely dumbfounded. *cough*Jon*cough*

Update: the blogroll is back. I know you were worried.

So CLSL is official. The beginning of our new layout is up and running. It’s far from finished, but we’ll get there. I absolutely love it so far. Anyhow…let’s talk pre-season.

There are those who don’t give two thoughts about pre-season and have no patience for it, those who follow it lightly…then there are those, like me, who think it’s one of the best times of a season. September was the most important month of my life in high school and most of college due to hockey pre-season. I skipped the occassional morning class in college for training camp and arranged my work schedule around pre-season games. That’s about as rebellious as I got until I started drinking. And trust me, there was a good reason why my hockey player stalking days were well before my drinking days.

For me and hockey, training camp meant the young guys were in town. But once they started getting younger than me, that just got a little creepy! (So says the girl who previously stated she’s waiting for Taylor Lautner to turn 18…) For any sport though, it’s predominantly a very exciting part of the season. It’s the one time a year that every player on the field is working his ass off for something: getting over that previous season ending injury, dusting off the off-season cobwebs, moving up a spot, grabbing a position on the starting line-up, landing a new or bigger contract or most importantly, just making the team. The possibilities are endless…I mean who would’ve thought this time last year the Cardinals would’ve ended their season in the Super Bowl? During pre-season everything is still bright and shiny. It’s after Thanksgiving when things start getting dark, fuzzy and depressing once you realize your QB is going to go stupid on you yet again.

Although pre-season is indeed the epitome of possibility, it’s pretty ridiculous to leverage a season worth of potential on ONE DROPPED PASS. Or, perhaps, a pass that couldn’t even be caught? John Kitna sent a soaring pass clear over Miles Austin’s head last Friday against the Titans. Romo did the same thing against the Raiders. A couple of days later I searched Miles’s name on Twitter. Huge mistake. People are morons. Shortly after someone properly reported Kitna overthrowing the pass to Austin, several idiots tweeted comments like “Austin you had your chance, you’re out”. Wait, seriously? The man has has a 43″ vertical, yes, but where exactly was he supposed to catch that pass? Two rows up in the stands? Everyone fancies themselves a head coach right now and it’s grating. I’m not retarded, I know Crayton more than likely has a hold on the 2nd spot. But he’s YET to prove he can consistently hold on to the ball. None of us have seen every hour of training camp. And it’s damn ridiculous for anyone, especially a knowledgeable, professional journalist to judge his long-term capability on having three chances, including the two that were overthrown, in two games. For example, from the JJT over at the DMN:

Miles Austin has been OK, but hasn’t showed he can be a legitimate speed threat.

First of all, we already know he’s fast. Second of all, it would be kinda ludicrous for him to blaze a flipping trail down the field WITHOUT THE BALL. Just saying. At least MILES agrees with me:

But Austin isn’t worried about his lack of preseason production. He’s still confident that he’ll play a significant role in the passing game this season.

“I’d rather do it in the season when it really counts and matters,” said Austin, who split time with Sam Hurd in three-receiver sets against the Titans. “I’m making sure I’m at my spot, making sure I’m at my depth and trying to get open. If they throw me that ball, that’s fine. If they don’t, as long as we’re winning …”

And YES…I’m completely biased. I’m not ashamed. (Have I mentioned at least 80% of my visitors are searching Miles Austin?)

BTW, fantasy draft is now this weekend. And I have a birthday party in Hollywood to go to the night before. Rules were meant to be broken I suppose.

I caused a stir with something I said in my last post and even though I don’t have to clarify, I will for the hell of it. I’m sweet that way. The whole analogy of “my taste in teams is much like my taste in guys…” is NOTHING AGAINST the guys I’ve been in any sort of relationship with. People are who they are. And after all, there were reasons I liked them all in the first place and reasons I can’t get over a few. Aside from my lunacy. Teams and boys can break my heart over and over again and I ridiculously come back for more. Eventually one of my teams will be amazing enough to win me another championship and some guy will be awesome enough to never let me down. So that comment was totally me being hard on myself  and my patterns because, trust me, that’s what I do best.

Moving on…back in December I discovered how entertaining the search terms that lead people to this blog are in Turn me inside out and learn me. Since I took a stupidly long hiatus, I have some catching up to do. Oh, but it’s been worth the wait…

1. The Top 5 search terms: Jamie Langenbrunner, hockey room, Miles Austin, trying to find my way back home and Petr Buzek.

Jamie Langenbrunner I get. Hockey room I kinda get. Miles Austin is the obvious all time search term leader at CLSL. This will come as a surprise to absolutely no one. Not even a noob. “Miles Austin girlfried” is actually in the top 20. Ladies, I have no idea if he has a girlfriend and I don’t care as long as he keeps catching the ball and doesn’t change his eye color. “Trying to find my way back home” are idiots looking for song lyrics, why they click on a sports blog I have no idea. But the one that leaves me absolutely dumbfounded is Petr Buzek. If you’re Googling Petr Buzek, dude, introduce yourself. I refuse to believe anyone outside of Kalamazoo and myself remember and give a crap who he is. Unless…he’s Googling himself. In that case, well, that’s another discussion all together.

PB

Funny enough, I just did a Google image search for Petr and two pictures of me came up. Huh. He just thought he could get away from me by moving back to the Czech Republic and retiring!

(edit: also whilst searching for a picture to use in this post, I came across a video interview with him from last year. This is the first thing I’ve seen with him for over six years. If I miss 14 typos before I post this…you now know why, as the 18 y ear-old in me died a little and I am ruined).

2. Burbank sports bar, The Office Bar and Grill, sports bars in LA, etc.

Several searches for sports bars lead people here. In case you pop upon this post first, I reviewed several Los Angeles area sports bars here in She don’t mean nothing – she’s just having fun. I’m kinda slacking in this department. But have no fear, football season starts in less than two months. So my alocholism and hot wing addictions are sure to kick back in.

3. ” hot girl cowboys game”

I don’t even know where to begin. First of all, this doesn’t make sense grammatically. Second of all, this just doesn’t make COMMON SENSE. Hey that hot girl who sat down the row from me at the Bengals game, or that hot girl I saw on TV during the Ravens game…I bet I can Google her!

No. You can’t.

4. “jamie langenbrunner nude”

This came up (no pun intended) in the first search term post as well and it doesn’t seem to be stopping. Which, ew. For the record I never mention Langenbrunner nude EVER.

5. “sport bars in los angeles for cowboy fan”

Yankee Doodles on Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. Every game. We are the cat’s pyjamas.

6. “how to dress like Tim Riggins”

Oh, Timmy Riggins

This is probably my favorite search term EVER. Absolutely fabulous. I even tweeted about it. Here’s my question, do you actually watch Friday Night Lights? (If you don’t, YOU SHOULD) Because if you do, you’d know to just crawl out of bed looking all morning after tussled and hot, throw on week old jeans and a flannel shirt half buttoned and you’re good to go. Instant chick manget, that 33.

And brace yourself for not so lucky number seven…

7. “gay men hockey players s**king d**k in locker room”

Um…

Yeah.

Random P.S. Speaking of relationship nonsense, I’ve been asked to guest blog over at Excuse My Nonsense. This site is owned and operated by one of my best friends and examines the lives and insanity of single ladies knocking on the door 0f 30. It’s like a younger Sex and the City, but takes place in New York, Dallas and Los Angeles, with too many pet dogs, no designer shoes and not enough sleeping around. My first post can be found here, When I grow up.

I blame a lot on Patron right now. I’m on a strict no Patron policy for the foreseeable future until I can trust myself again. Regardless, I’m back. Possibly because I’m tired of people asking me why I’m not writing anymore. Possibly because I know I have to do something other than read the Twilight books, eat Chinese food, bake cupcakes, hang out with gay guys and Feng Shui my apartment. See what happens to me when I’m going through football and hockey withdrawals AND dealing with a broken heart? Ridiculousness ensues. Having said that, I’m still cranky. So I’d like to complain about all the things I find wrong with sports during the summer months (including the two months we just lived through):

1. The Lakers. Ugh. Their fans ANNOY ME. Most of all, and I’ve mentioned this before, the traffic they cause during playoffs is the bane of my existence in Los Angeles for however many weeks it takes them to end their season…I pray to God for early elimination. Oh but that’s right, they’re not the Mavericks.  Anyway, I know LA traffic sucks balls every other day of the year. But game day traffic makes my commute home even more unbearable than it already is. Because all these rich ass h0les who live up in the valley are the epitome of fair weather fans and only go to games when 90% of ticket prices are in the triple digits. Between the income loss of the writers’ strike and the cost of the Lakers parade and now the Michael Jackson Memorial…I think I saw the Mayor of Los Angeles selling cherries on a street corner. Every penny counts these days, I hear.

2. Stupid playoff songs. I mean, really? The birthday sex song is painfully lame enough as is, inserting a team name and additional mentally challenged verses into it isn’t going to make it better. Just saying.

3. The NHL playoffs. It never fails that whoever wins the Stanley Cup, I lose. I need to just give up thinking there will be a team in the playoffs that I can cheer for through all four rounds. My taste in teams is much like my taste in guys. They’re amazing during the regular season when it’s all fun, games, drinking and screwing around…but when it comes to playoffs and the time to get serious and committed? Forget about it. It’s just MUCH easier for them to watch it all go down from a distance or on the golf course. Apparently the Stanley Cup and I aren’t worth extra effort. But on a lighter note, we both love champagne!

Now having said that, what was a loss for me was actually quite a gain for the NHL (and a total wet dream come true for Gary Bettman). The Detroit Red Wings playing The Second Coming of Jesus (and oh yeah the rest of the Penguins) in a game 7 on a Friday night on network television. I’d love to know how many times Bettman had to dry an eye or change his pants.

4. OTAs. More like WTFs. It’s like weeks of hot and heavy foreplay knowing you’re not getting any real action for THREE MORE MONTHS. It’s excruciating. Cock teases, much? And what’s that you say? Roy Williams had a few good catches today? GREAT, he’s good at a little over the shirt action, but talk to me again when the clothes come off. Don’t even get me started on the Cowboys draft this year. The sexual analogies I can make with that aren’t very ladylike. And my parents might be reading this.

5. Baseball. I tried it. Turns out I just don’t care. And what’s the point of even trying to care before the all-star break? SERIOUSLY? I’ll go to a Dodger game any day of the week (or a Rangers game if I was home), drink too much beer and have a hot dog…but don’t make me watch on TV and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t make me log into my fantasy team. Cause I stopped doing that almost two months ago. Trying to figure out why no one has asked to trade for my good players yet, actually.

6. The Stars losing their collective minds…again. Since I looked at the Kings two seasons before this last one and thought to myself “hey, THERE is the type of coach I want on my team!”

Ah, I feel better now.

CLSL is closing in on its three monthaversary. One of the most fascinating (and rather disturbing) features of WordPress is being able to see what search terms led folks to this blog. Because I am easily entertained, I’ve decided to form an occasional Q&A out of what these weirdos are searching for.

1. “you win some you learn some”

The title of this post. They’re also lyrics from Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours.” If you’ve not figured out by now, titles of all my posts come from song lyrics. They may or may not make sense or be applicable to the post, just depends on what I’m listening to and/or writing about. Or what mood I’m in. The title of this post comes from Bob Schneider’s “Big Blue Sea.” If you know me, you know how hard Bob rocks my world.

Never heard of him, sorry.

2. “miles austin pictures”

Who’s this Miles Austin you speak of?! (P.S. Google Images).

3. “gay lady wants man meetup cam calgary”

I…wow. You made a wrong turn somewhere, sister. I talked about Calgary in this post, but something tells me stalking Czech hockey players isn’t the sort of thing you’re into.

4. “what to do when she is crazy about sport”

You grow some balls, that’s what you do. And don’t let her go, you might not find another one like her.

5. “team canada hockey memories”

Aw, that’s sweet. I got nothing about Team Canada, but plenty of hockey memories here, here and here.

6. “anaheim ducks – ride the zamboni”

Dirty birds. I hate them. But they might let you ride their…zamboni.

7. “jamie langenbrunner nude”

Okay, really? Good luck with that. During your search, should you find anything (nude or otherwise) about his younger brother (I think his name is Ryan? can’t remember)…yeah, get back to me on that.

"Allowing Sean Avery to be himself seems penance enough" - THN

8. “sean avery”

My caffeine induced tirade regarding manwhore him can be found here.

9. “miles austin myspace”

Him again? Perplexing. (P.S. he doesn’t have a MySpace…Demarcus Ware and Jay Ratliff do, however).

10. “blinged out dallas cowboys football shirt”

Whatever. I’m sure they’re out there. Or you can buy a bedazzler and go to town on that Romo jersey. Go girl.

11. “sport bars in los angeles for cowboy fan”

You can’t really throw a football on Sunday without hitting some sort of Cowboys fan. They can be found in most sports bars, we don’t have our own bar like Philadelphia and Boston fans (gag and puke). However, per this post, you’ll see a large contingent of fans meets for every game at Yankee Doodles in Santa Monica. See you Sunday.

12. “miles austin jersey”

Okay I give in. You want one? Tough. Go to the NFL Shop and have one made like I did. Contrary to delusional beliefs, Austin jerseys aren’t mass produced and stockpiled like Romo, Owens and Barber. I know, right? I already have both blue and white Barber jerseys, but so does EVERYBODY ELSE in Dallas. And I like to be different (and I’m crazy). Therefore, last weekend when the NFL shop was having an after Thanksgiving sale…well, my Austin jersey is on the way.

13. “chris collinsworth nude”

WHY?! You sick f*ck. Stay of the internet.

I honestly couldn’t care less about Sean Avery either way. The stunt he pulled against Brodeur was heinous…anything a player does to cause a rule change during a damn game? Utterly heinous. There’s no doubt this ass hole has caused plenty of dirty, rotten issues during his NHL career. The league has had plenty of chances to kick him out for legitimate reasons. I never thought I’d be coming to the defense of such a dick, however…

“Uh, I’m really happy to be back in Calgary. I love Canada.

“And I just want to comment on how it’s become like a common thing in the NHL for guys to fall in love with my sloppy seconds. I don’t know what that’s about.

“Enjoy the game tonight.”

…is NOT an upstanding reason to suspend a player indefinitely. I don’t give a damn there are provisions under “NHL By-Law 17 and Article 6 of the NHL Constitution for conduct “detrimental to the League or game of hockey,” Call me crazy (ha!) but him making a backhanded comment about Dion Phaneuf banging Elisha Cuthbert is just shit talking and not detrimental to the game. Give me a break and let them take it out on the ice. Like HOCKEY PLAYERS. Bettman is sucking the soul out of this game one horrific decision at a time. (How’s the Versus contract working out for you, fellow fans?!)

These damn Dallas athletes (and the copious amounts of caffeine I’ve ingested today) have got me all fired up. For some reason, flashes of Avery and Pacman sipping on Hennessy at the Ghostbar are violently flashing through my head. Although it’s only in my imagination, those two need blinged out BFF necklaces.

Sigh. At least neither shot themselves in the damn leg. At an Applebee’s. And used a fake name. Douchebag.