Wednesday, October 28, 2009
So much for skyrockets in flight and afternoon delights, huh?
Back in a far happier time, that is, Saturday afternoon, we were hanging about the house, the junior clansmen and I, the wife being at work for the weekend (two twelve hour shifts - she doesn't even see the kids).
I was prepping for my one connection to sanity, the weekly Capsule game.
(As an aside after this summer's debacle its been a fine start to the season for old Capsule, emphasis on old, after an opening loss there have been five straight wins between the two leagues. I've played four games, have two goals, three assists and have not been on the ice for a single goal against. Put me in coach, I'm ready to play. Add a little veteran crust to that fourth line. Hell I'll sit on the bench, get beat up by McGrattan and spend my three or four minutes of icetime scrambling around. You bet. And I'll do it for half of what MacIntyre gets paid too.)
Anyhow, I was a couple of hours away from gametime and I was doing my usual pregame routine, visualizing not pulling anything, doing some lunges in the kitchen, when the baby wandered by.
Now I rarely talk about our youngest because frankly babies are boring. I enjoy them but until they start to motor around they don't have a lot of cachet with me. My wife is the opposite, she LOVES babies. I love making them. Then I can do without until they are ten months old or so.
So the baby is no longer a baby. Fifteen months old and she is the most mental of the three (mentallest???) and that is saying a lot. Follow her around and we're talking climbing on the furniture, including the dining room table, emptying the TV cabinet of DVDs, dismantling the shoe rack, dumping the dog's water dish, exploring the garbage, abusing her older siblings, demanding (and I do mean demanding) food and drink ... you get the picture.
So she saunters by with a smirk and I pause and then keep on with my pregame workout and about a half minute later I hear a roar.
Its the boy. He's picked up some language from his old man. That's my phrase of choice when I'm frustrated with my loyal subjects, its not that bad, right? Not as bad as a few weeks ago when some fucker on a bike ran a red light and almost mowed us down as we crossed the Danforth. I'm a paranoid when it comes to red lights so when it goes red I always wait until everyone stops before I step out or pull out into the intersection. So here I am with my three kids and I look and I look and I step out and then buddy rips through, right in front of us.
I stop, count the kids and say, quite clearly, dazed by your man's complete and utter stupidity.
So we'll know where they picked that up from the first time they say it.
So I walk into the living room and my oldest is laughing her head off (she is trouble, big trouble that one), the baby is cackling and the boy is staring in horror at the diaper, completely full of stinky yellow shit, that has been deposited in his lap.
Oh what a difference four days makes, Saturday evening the Oilers were on top of the world, having dispatched the BJS on Thursday with such elan that we were breaking out the Bananarama and Dexy's Midnight Runners, oh baby the 80s are back! And the flu ridden lot of them came back from their little trip oh and two and then last night they stumbled and now Detroit and Boston are on the horizon and folks are talking about trading the whole lot of the sorry bums, again.
Brownlee was right.
Lets put it this way - this club, we will all agree, has holes in it. Now it had a good start to the season, some folks pointed at some luck to it but the fact is that they played nine games where the results were good and the team basically played well. Now as those nine games wore on the injury list grew from Pisani and Pouliot to include Souray and Staios and then Stone.
So you have Strudwick and Chorney playing. A lot. Anyone think this is good? And your depth chart at LW is Penner and then a bunch of schmucks. Of course some might say that's the case even if they are healthy.
And then Hemsky, Brule, Comrie, Gilbert, Lubo, Smid, Jacques and Penner, that we know of, contracted the flu.
And apparently there are at least four other players with it (source TSN).
Ever have the flu? Even a twenty four hour variety? How about one that laid you up for days? How well do you think you would be able to play sports while suffering from it?
I'm not worried yet. The players dropped a big stinky one in our lap these last few days and part of me thinks management did the same to us this summer but I won't worry about this club until everyone is up and at them.
When they are if the mess remains then I might want to drop a stinky turd somewhere but until then me no worry!
Posted by Black Dog at 4:15 PM