Rangers win 2-1. Ok, maybe I was wrong about not putting Drury on the wing. That Gomez/Drury/Naslund line looked scary good. Naslund looked about 7 years younger, and Gomez was doing Gomez things all game. Naslund at one point in the third had a move where heput everyone's jock on Mars before he clanked it off the pipe.Hank played solid, but the story of the game was Mike Smith, goalie for the Lightning. Is he a member of the FBI Witness protection program? Mike Smith, c'mon, I don't buy this name. Regardless of that, he's actually a very very solid goalie, made some brilliant moves. Good win by the Rangers, taking a 2-1 lead in their season opener.
I'm just happy we finally won something. Tomorrow we'll battle Metallurg Magnitogorsk, the European chamption, for the Victoria cup, which i thought was the Queen Mothers Bra size but is apparently a scheduled playoff between European and NHL teams. Winning the Victoria Cup is like climaxing from a vague, borderline drunk/consensual sexual escapade, complete with an absurdly small settlement
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly concerned about the apathetic nature of the Rangers pre-season. Heath Ledger has shown more life than the Rangers offense, and the Peter Nedved experiment has come to a merciful end. As I wrote about in my Melt Your Face Off Rangers preview , the wings haven't quite meshed with the centermen yet.
So what's a Renney to do - ah, I see, move our best faceoff man to wing. Drury could protect two fast players on his wing, moves the puck well, and throws his body around in front of the net. Based on all of the above, I'm not sure that's necessarily the best move, but hey, what do I know, I just play NHL '94 in my mom's basement.
Not only did I screw them out of money by not allowing them to trade me and rebuild, crippling our team for years to come, but now I can lay the world class beats that PokerStars is known and loved for by its players!
O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The team has weather’d every storm, the prize we seek not won; The season is near, the Czech I see, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel,no leader yet grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of blue, Where in the rafter my Captain lies, His jersey cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up from Buffalo; Rise up—for you the C is sown—for you the Goal song trills; For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the Gardens a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying blue seats, their eager voices chanting;
New Captain! dear import! The way you keep your head; It is some dream that on the deck,
Our leadership fallen cold and dead.
My Captain is not named, no lips or voice to trill; Our team for now has no pulse, but soon I hope it will; Our aircraft fueled safe and sound, its voyage for pleasure and fun; Across the Ocean, the team will land, comes in with no object won;
Exult, Garden crown, and ring, Goal Song! But I, with mournful tread, Wait patiently for my Captain named,