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.

With everything I read and watch about sports, it’s sometimes difficult to retain ALL the information. I have to leave SOME room for shoes, what happened on this week’s Grey’s Anatomy and actual current events. And there’s only so many brain cells left that alcohol hasn’t killed (those we lost, they put up a good fight). I tend to remember the info under the categories of “random crap” or “crap I disagree with”.

FOR EXAMPLE, sometime last week I caught up on some Stars reading at the Dallas Morning News website. Mike Heika has always been the main man for the Stars over there and I’ve generally never had issues with him. He was hockey when hockey wasn’t cool. However, during a recent Q&A this is pretty much how it went…

Q: What should the Stars do about Coach Tippett? A. Blah blah blah or wait till the summer.

Q: What should the Stars do about Marty Turco? A. Blah blah blah, no trade clause, blah blah blah or wait till the summer.

Q: What should the Stars do about this ridiculous system of having two GMs? Especially two GMs who have compeletley different playing philosophies? A. WAIT FOR IT…blah blah blah or wait till the summer.

DUDE, it’s freakin’ DECEMBER! I don’t care to wait until goddamn June to fix my bottom the the barrel team. A

Would the real Turco please come home?!

team that, need I remind you, made it to the Western Conference Finals last season. Please to be fixing them sometime within the near futute, thanks! Heika’s argument is that in the 15 years the Stars have been in Dallas, we’ve rarely seen lean times. I call shenanigans. With the talent this team has, how far they got last season, there is no excuse. My advice? Ditch a GM and make a change in coach. I guarantee you, we’ll at least get our goalie back in form if that goes down. I know things.

Maybe I’m a little bit frightened that I find myself checking to see how the Kings did before I see if the Stars even played. Just because IF the Stars did play, the inevitable outcome would be another kick in the balls. (Please note I don’t actually have balls).

Speaking of disgruntled fans, EXAMPLE TWO, I was watching today’s PTI while whipping up some din din and one of the boys, while discussing the fate of Donovan McNabb, said Philly fans are all about “what have you done for me lately.” This comment has me torn in two. The bitch in me who loathes Philly fans says kharma is a dirty whore and she’ll f*ck you over when she can. Therefore, if you put a little more nice into the universe you might just get a little bit more back! However, the sypathetic fan in me (and I’m not happy about saying this…) wonders if you can really blame them for being dicks about it? The Eagles have never been able to seal the deal. Although that colors me all sorts of giddy (sitting on top of 5 Super Bowl championships, no less), it has to suck to be them. Having said that, hell hath not frozen over, I will never be able to tolerate them (there’s an exception to every rule, however) and they’ve got the World Series to nurse for awhile…just saying I CAN look at two signs of the coin. Otherwise, I’d be contradicting all the whining I just did about the Stars. Think about it.

Continued from A fire I can’t put out and I’d like to have that one back:

In honor of the Stars first appearance at the Staples Center this season and celebrating 15 YEARS of hockey fandom, I’ve decided to put together a list of my Top 15 Favorite Hockey Memories.

I heart Canada

11. 1999: Oh, Canada. At one time, I had this uncanny ability to make friends with players’ ex-girlfriends or really good female friends. I still don’t know how it all happened, but hey, they liked me. Probably because my pudgy, nerdy, star-struck, infatuated younger self was the least of threats. Or it was the Southern charm. Who knows. But one such friend, Ruthie, was in Canada, Nova Scotia to be exact. She was a longtime friend of Jon Sim. Great gal, wish we could get back in touch with her. MONTHS (please remember that part, MONTHS) before the Stars even made the playoffs, Leslie and I decided to travel to Canada to visit her. Getting to Halifax required a layover in Toronto coming to and from. We had some total good times…pretty much still my favorite trip that wasn’t intended to directly relate to anything hockey. Learning to drink in Halifax, continuing to learn how to drink even more in New Glasgow (those Canadians, man…), camping on Cape Breton Island and freaking Jon Sim completely the f*ck out…PRICELESS.

Fate has a major sense of humor. It’s taken me almost 10 years, but I can finally laugh about this trip. The two weeks we were in Nova Scotia happened to land right when Sim got his day with the Cup. During the planning process, we did everything we could to figure out how to avoid bumping into him, despite knowing we’d be running in his social circle. Naturally, Plan Avoid Jon Sim didn’t pan out too well. However, he’s not the brightest crayola in the box and forgot at some point in time we were there…or even that we exist! Leslie waited till Jon visited the loo and chased the Cup down and kissed it right where Joe Nieuwendyk’s name is engraved with the ‘87 Flames, I became pals with Jon’s brother (which led to an infamous night on the SMU campus a year later…let’s just say I WALKED into a stop sign) and turns out one of Jon’s childhood friends is the hottest guy I’ve met to this day. Chris Hale of New Glasgow, Nova Scotia…I love you.

It’s not every year two crazy fans happen upon a player’s day with the Cup in his hometown, drunk and delusional, on a river in the middle of nowhere Canada. Eh?

Me and Leslie showing our love to Lord Staley's Cup, Hockey Hall of Fame

On the way back to the United States of America, besides a stay in Toronto at The Scariest Hostel Ever, we popped into the Hockey Hall of Fame. Amazing. I can’t wait to go back one day. They have this ginormous wall-size picture of the current Stanley Cup champions leading into the trophy room. Being the dedicated fans we were, I asked a friendly looking family to take our photo with it, seeing as it was the Stars. Afterward, I thanked them and asked where they were from. They said Buffalo. I said, oh, um, I’m sorry…IT WAS TOTALLY A GOAL.

..Continue reading..

Let there be absolutely no confusion, I loathe Philadelphia sports fans. Except for one, he gets a pass (but shouldn’t). I think they’re awful people. AND I AM NOT ALONE. There are 49 states (and Pittsburgh!) who agree with me. Now having said that, I can put my not so petty differences aside for now and be happy for them. So…congratulations, Philly. (Ouch, my soul just got a bruise). And at the end of the day, it wasn’t the f*cking Eagles. I drank two bottles of wine BY MYSELF to cope with the Giants winning the Super Bowl. Alcohol poisoning would be in order should the Eagles…wait, NO, I was tricked into completing those words before, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. And anyway, I kinda like that Chase Utley fella.

I still remember what this feels like. When your team wins. You don’t sleep. You don’t eat, food is for mere mortals! You love life. You feel like you played in the game yourself, hell, you were on the starting line-up playing with a broke skull! You fought the good fight. You cried the good cry. You hope the high NEVER ends.

But, then there’s the next season. When Jason Arnott puts the puck in the net at some ungodly hour of the night during OT and skates out of Reunion Arena with the Cup, your hopes and your heart roasted on a hockey stick. You know, I tried staying to see the Devils accept the Cup, I really did. But the second I saw merely its REFLECTION in the glass while being carried in, I said “I can’t do this,” and bolted. Nice to know the emotional masochist in me actually does have limits. (With sports, not men…but whatever).

True story.

Speaking of masochism. The Cowboys. I know you’ve been thinking, “gee, wonder what Nikki thinks about the State of the Union?” Nikki doesn’t think. She drinks. She gets very, very angry. And sad. And confused. SO CONFUSED. The Cowboys are my love life right now and they’re REALLY BAD BOYFRIENDS. They don’t call when they say they will anymore, they stand me up, they don’t pay for anything and I sure as hell ain’t getting any action. Limp pinkies are not reasonable excuses in my book, no sirs. The big dance is just over three months away and I have my dress picked out. And it’s hot, so get your shit together. (Like my tough talk? We know they could beat the snot out of me and I’d come back for more…they’d woo me with Miles Austin, I just know it! Damn the weaknesses).

I’m pretty sure I can make a pass better than Brad Johnson and my hands are too small to grip a regulation size football. (There HAS to be a dirty joke there somewhere). Anyhow, I have faith things will return to their originally scheduled programming. A recent conversation between my friend Eric and me:

Me: They’re calling us a team in turmoil.

Him: If I recall, we were a team in turmoil in the early 90s…drugs, women…

Me: And three Super Bowls.

Bottom line, don’t discount the Cowboys. Uncle Jerry’s face is so tight so his head can hold in all the plotting.

I should talk hockey. But Marty Turco is unfortunately drinking the same water as the Cowboys and I can chart the family tree of British royalty better than I can the route the NHL standings have taken thus far this season.