A Frustrated Fan
I spent nearly the entire month of August away from the blog. True, I once posted a few thoughts on the Swedish saga/enigma known as Mats Sundin. But otherwise, it was 30 days where the center of my universe drifted from hockey to summertime pleasures like cookouts, the beach, lazy evenings on my deck, and good friends. Okay, and I went to work a few days in there.
But I am soooooo over summer. I have a fever for hockey action that surpasses any desire Christohper Walken may ever have for the cowbell. I cannot wait for a faceoff, a slapshot, a solid hit in the corner. I miss John Tortorella’s crazy outbursts and Jacques Lemaire’s sarcastic postgame press conferences. I long for a double header on Versus and for Coatesy’s Corner during the Flyers’ first intermission. I crave the sound of a jam-packed Wachovia Center as Lauren Hart sings the national anthem.
Heck, I’d even get excited to watch Sidney Crosby spend an entire TV timeout whining to the referees about nothing while Pierre McGuire drones on and on about . . . . what does McGuire talk about anyway?
I mean, the Squirts skating to remixed music just isn’t cutting it anymore.