A missed feel-good story from the Finals

This was posted on teh LGC by MeanGene (who, for the folks outside the Caniac Nation, is the big black dude on the Storm Squad), and is posted here with his permission:

I talked to [Georges Laraque] during the Finals after just about every game. Mainly by email, but also in person. Anyway I thought it would be good to get some pictures of a black hockey player becasue I am hoping to start an inner-city street hockey clinic/league hopefully this summer or fall. I am thinking in the downtown housing projects, or in Durham at possibly the YMCA, which is probably my best bet. laraque gave me 10 autographed 8x10 pictures and personalized one to me.

After game 5, he told me that they would beat us in 7, and I told the Canes would win. He jokingly asked me if I wanted to place a bet on the rest of the series. I said sure, if the Oilers win, I will paint Oilers are #1 on the back of my car with glass paint and drive around with it on. If the Canes won, he could help me start up my league. He said either way, he would love to help me out.

After game 7, I went and talked to him and he told me to jsut contact him when I was ready. At the time, he was talking to Cuba, so I should have hit him up too!!

I think with the Stanley Cup victory and the enthusiasm for hockey, it should go pretty well.
Just wanted to share a good guy NHL story!

Big Georges (or, as they refer to him at The Battle of Alberta, LeGG) has always been one of my favorite players because of stuff like this.

Is that cool or what?

WELL.

I go to work, and everything goes about 10 different kinds of crazy.

First:

As has been broken by half the freaking blogsphere (and TSN), Mike Keenan has taken total leave of what's left of his senses and traded FLORIDA PANTHERS FRANCHISE GOALIE Roberto Luongo to the Vancouver Canucks for....

Todd Bertuzzi, Alex Auld, and a used jockstrap cleverly masquerading as a defenseman Bryan Allen.

(Apologies to CanucksNation by way of Alanah from VCOE, who use a boot to the head to remind me that I had Bryan Allen confused with Nolan Baumgartner. Mea Culpa.)

Second:

The Warchief has agreed to be Captain For Life (and you have no idea how happy that makes me).

Third:

My Golden Bitch has asked for a trade out of Edmonton for "personal reasons".

Fourth:

UKRAINE, of all countries, has advanced to the Round of 16 in the World Cup.

Fifth:

Rumple Minze. Mmmmm, Rumple Minze.

O Captain My Captain....

...please hush about Lavi not getting the Jack Adams.

And all you other Caniacs pissin' and bitchin' that Lavi didn't get the Jack Adams need to hush too.

It's a jinx, that trophy is, and I'd much rather our coach NOT get it--besides, he's got something far nicer (even if Wally Tatomir was klutzy and dropped it--bad Wally, no cookie). I didn't even want Chairman Mo to get it in 2002--actually, yes I kinda did. But now that he's the General Secretary of the Toronto Maple Leafs, I hope he doesn't get it so that he'll be with them for a long, long time.

I got a kick out of the part of Olie Kolzig's speech where he said "As much as it pains me, I'd like to congratulate the Carolina Hurricanes on winning the Stanley Cup." I've always liked Olie. And Alex Ovechkin? Dudeman needs a new haircut, badly. That bowlcut abortion he's got now makes him look like he's a cancer patient wearing a bad wig. His Calder acceptance speech was a hoot, too.

I loved seeing Cam Ward dis one of the memorabilia sellers from "out back" at the RBC on live TV--that was great stuff. I saw that clown in the crowd by the red carpet and was like "Oh balls, there's a seller." Then Cam went walking down signing stuff for fans, and he saw that guy and was like "Yeah, I'm skipping you." gg Cam.

Vancouver folk, I wish I could be there with y'all for the Draft this weekend--but getting promoted at work, my boss's impending European vacation, and being short-staffed because of a co-worker's paternity leave have pretty much terminated all chances of me getting MY vacation time this year. :/

The Toronto Star has a vurra interesting article about the last pick in the Draft and what's become of those guys. I can just see JFJ walking up to Chairman Mo on draft day in 1985 and saying "In 21 years, kid, you're going to work for me."

Hey, coulda happened.

Oh yeah, so forwards and goalies and stuff.

Chris has his commentary up on the goalies and the forwards, so I'll send you over there after a few comments.

Tinu might move on, or he might be amenable to staying here for another year as part of a 1a/1b system--I think that if he gets schmoozed right by JasonK and JimR, it'll pry be the latter.

Daniel Manzato hasn't done so much since we've drafted him, so I see him being shuffled off somewhere as a throw-in for a Draft Day trade.

I have a hunch that Cullen will be back representing the 2-1-8 next season. Dougie is an enigma--he hasn't totally ruled out a return to the 'Canes, and he hasn't totally ruled out a return to the Booze. And he hasn't totally ruled out a trip to some other team. Wherever he goes, I just hope it's to a team that I can actually like (as opposed to someplace like, say, Detroit, Columbus, Florida, or Washington).

Why do so many people have Joe, Lord of Evil pencilled in as trade-bait? I don't see it happening for some reason. I think he'll be on the roster for at least the first month or so of next season.

Recchi's pry outta here, so we can re-sign the core forwards like Staal, Cole, KAdams, and Ladd.

CAdams will likely be sent to Albany as their hetman, so that he can teach the youngins the ways of the tribe. Vince Most Handsome is pry going to go down there with him, as will Killer Kowalski and the rest of the kids that were practice players with the team during The Great Run.

I think that little Ray Whitney might wind up getting traded, if the 'Canes need to bring in somebody to replace a departing player.

Aaaaand that's about all I got--well except for a little gem from this morning's N&O, which I will address later tonight after I am home from work and properly jacked on Flexeril.

Mmmm.....Onion.

Carolina Residents Confused, Terrified As Victorious Hurricane Players Riot In Streets

They forgot Char-Grill (BEST FRIES IN THE WORLD) and iHop.

God I love the Onion.

Too funny not to post.

Alanah at VCOE sent me this link yesterday evening. I just now stopped laughing.


Hockey BBQ Buzz

Not quite as funny as Hockey Roomers, but still funny.

OK, now I'm officially done with The Fraud.

So...what do we do now?

Before I wrestle with my digital camera to get the pictures from yesterday's parade and party (I missed today's celebration because I got called in to work), it's time to take a look at who goes and who stays for next season.

Chris makes some good points with regard to our defense, but I'll chime in.

Personally?

I think that My Evil Twin is pry going to retire--at most he'll stick around for one more season and then call it a game. He's got a Cup, he can head off into the sunset.

I'll be damn surprised if Wes sticks around--he's finally got a Cup, he'll probably want to go out on a high note.

Unlike Chris, I think The Not-Quite-As-Serene Master might stay if the 'Canes either 1) made him a good enough offer or 2) traded a couple draft picks to the Leafs for his brother.

I do think the rumblings about Nicky heading back to Sweden are true--he's had fun here, he's made some coin, and he's got a Cup, so now he'll want to pack up the clan and head on home. Say hey to Tommy for me when you get home, Nicky.

Commodore will stay. I think they might let Hutch walk. Tverdovsky is probably gonzo if the 'Canes can find a trading partner to take him, otherwise Lavi will do his best to work with him. If they let Babs go, I will injure somebody. That boy is fearless and has one hell of a slapshot. He's Andy Delmore, with hits and defense (and better luck with the chicks).

And then we have Jack Johnson--I have a sneaking suspicion that he's hoping he'll be traded to Pittsburgh so that he can be reunited with his boyfriend Sid Crosby. I think the 'Canes should stick with this kid for as long as possible during his College years. If he doesn't want to sign with us after that, then trade him.

I'll do up the forwards tomorrow morning.

(and to my Heathen and Pagan readers: Happy Midsummer.)

You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars

I was at work this morning, still kind of in a state of numbed shock. I was in the middle of counting up the previous day's safe drops when I turned and asked my boss "Did the Hurricanes really win?"

She nodded and said "Yeah, they won the Stanley Cup."

Did I hear you say that this is victory?

It was like a fireball going off, burning away the surreal fog that almost had me convinced that I was dreaming. I started crying, and then I started laughing. You guys have no idea how much that Princess Bride quote really does apply to me, seriously. It was like all these stray bits and pieces just kind of fell into place, the stars aligned, and for the first time I can honestly say that I genuinely feel some kind of peace.

If the 'Canes had lost, I would have cried for a while and then just said "Figures" and just gone on with the war because I'm just that used to fighting the "hopeless battle".

But this...this is strange territory for me.

I've been fighting for this team for so long, defending their right to exist and defending the fanbase (and taking the Hammer to a few of the faithful that get outta line), that now that the 'Canes have won and effectively cemented their niche in the Triangle I find myself wondering what my purpose in life is.

I've been living on the edge so long
Where the winds of limbo roar
And I'm young enough to look at
And far too old to see
All the scars are on the inside
I'm not sure if there's anything left of me

And then it hits me:

All these years, I've been soaking up the tales from the team's history like a sponge. I've been learning about the history of the Hurricanes from their days in the WHA to 1997 to now, and I've been posting about much of it here.

Somebody's gotta remember where this team came from. Somebody's gotta remind people of where we've been so that they can appreciate where the Hurricanes are now and where they're headed.

Might as well be me.

I know I'm not making a lot of sense--blame the mead. I'm sitting here watching the game on the DVR and crying for joy because in some strange way it's all just sort of coming together finally.

I raise my glass to the Oilers fans. Your team didn't give up, and they put fear into my heart. They're tenacious, MacT's a pretty good coach, and I think the Oilers will do well next season.

As always:

Go Canes.

Is very strange.

I have been in the revenge business so long. Now that it's over, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.

(quote courtesy The Princess Bride)

I never, never in a million years, thought I would ever see this day. Ever. I'm sitting here in front of my computer holding a one-person sumbel with that bottle of cherry mead, and just kind of soaking it all in. I suspect that at about 2:00 AM, I'll be drunk-dialing my boss and hollering "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" into the phone while she says "AQ, I'll be there at 7:30 to pick you up. Get your ass to bed."

The Pregnant Motie Warrior called during the presentation to make sure that I was watching it--and of course I was.

Never thought I'd see this. I envy Dave and Chris, cos they got to go to the game.

THE POWER OF MALIK COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF MALIK COMPELS YOU!

*ahem* Sorry--got caught up in a Frankie Kaberle moment.

The Chancellors are sitting here looking at me like I've lost what little is left of my mind. My husband is already annoyed with me for being durnk (FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MANY MANY YEARS) on a work night.

Last cig was at 3:00 Monday morning. So glad I don't have to buy another pack ever. My doc will be happy too.

Did the 'Canes really win the Cup? I'm not dreaming, am I? This isn't a mead-fueled drunken delusion, is it?

Did we really win the Cup?

I've been in a cave, for forty days....

All we have left now is faith, fellow Caniacs. Faith in our team, faith in ourselves, faith that the Hurricanes will win.

I believe in them. Wholeheartedly, totally. This isn't a time to be wishy-washy. This is a time for will--perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. We must be resolute in our determination, unshakable in our faith. We must rise up, fellow Caniacs, and with one voice and one heart and one soul will our team to victory.

Forget the Oilers trolls that have decided to come out from under their rocks and start bombarding the boards with crap because their team has tied the series. Forget about NBC's constant fellation of the Oilers and their bashing of the Hurricanes. Forget about MacT and Coingate and Fernando Pisani leaving his feet with every check he tried to lay on Erik Cole the other night. Forget about those things, for they do not matter.

The only things that matter now are the 20 guys wearing the Sightless Eye that will take to the ice tonight for the fight of their playoff lives. Focus on them, cheer for them, and most importantly love them--that love, that focus, and that energy will be returned a thousandfold.

The lots at the RBC open at 3:00, the puck drops at 8:00.

Go Canes.

The Morning After The Night Before.

I'm still upset about last night--that was just...it was like the aliens that lived in Richard Trottier's helmet in 99-00 came and brought back the 2002-2003 Hurricanes. I don't even want to watch the DVR, not even to see Erik Cole back on the ice, though I might go back and watch it tomorrow if I'm 1) intoxicated enough and/or 2) the game has a happier ending (for me).

Da Chief has his Punch in the Face. Last night was my Humiliating Kick in the Crotch. Just...ugh. It felt worse than 2002...and those of you who knew me back then know that that's saying a lot right there. If the 'Canes lose tomorrow--and especially if they lose in such embarrassing fashion as they lost last night--I am liable to light myself on fire and fling myself off the top of the RBC Center, because it'll be like total confirmation that the Universe just flat hates my guts. Perhaps I'll feel better in the morning. Perhaps I'm just too wrapped up in all of this. Who knows?

I still believe.

Go Canes.