11:31 am - FeedReader RSS reader alerts me from Capitals Insider, Tarik El-Bashir "Johnson Sick; Theodore to Start".
11:32 am - I get in my car to go to Publix to buy more beer.
11:35 am - I realize that 8 beers is probably enough and change headings to ABC for bourbon.
Noon - 5:15 pm - Some nervous pacing/semblance of work transpires.
5:15 pm - (a.k.a beer:30) pssshhht.
5:30 pm - psshhht.
5:45 pm - psshhht.
6:00 pm - Remember that I need to make dinner for my wife. Heh, heh.
6:15 pm - psshhht. Put nurishment in body.
6:30 pm - psshhht. XBox to ease the mind until 7:00 start.
7:00 pm - Game at MSG commences
7:15 pm - 0-1 Rangers. Send first of many, "I told you so" text messages to JT believers.
7:20 pm - 0-2 Rangers. Sulk. Psshhht.
7:21 pm - 0-3 Rangers. Practice my George McPhee voice while figuring out how to get in touch with Ray Emery's cell phone number.
"Ray, this is George. We'd like to have you be a goalietender..." Try again.
"Mr. Emery. Are you available? err... Not personally but as a
goaltender, professional-ly. As a professional goaltender..." Try again.
"Agent E? This is HQ. The plan that we discussed in Antwerp over the summer is in effect. Repeat: It's gone 100% off the reservation. We're instituting Plan B. Operation: HOLY GOALIE. Return to Washington for reassignment." I like that one.
7:30 pm - Calmness ensues as Brett Johnson, with shaking and tremors visible on camera, stops all the pucks. (Then barfs in ice bucket next to Zamboni).
8:00 pm - JT resumes his netminding duties. Pssshhht. Locate the bourbon and put the 2-Liter Coke on stand-by.
8:05 pm - 0-4 Rangers. Screw the Coke.
8:15 pm - I'm heavily into my drink and playing Vexed on the phone with one eye closed when Alex changes the game in his next three shifts.
- Caps kill a penalty at the 9 minute mark. Oveckhin steps on with Backstrom and Kozlov and have a nice tic-tac-toe to Ovie down low where he knocks it off Lundquist's blocker/shoulder. He bolts back to the net as the whistle blows. Takes a cheapie by Stall and butt ends him to the gut. He starts a scrum. I smile.
- At the 12 minute mark, he takes a shift that's a minute and thirty seconds long. He enters the zone twice in control of the puck then shoots. The team loses the zone but he nails Redden in the corner. Rangers defense and Kozlov change but the Sloan pushes the puck right back to Ovie now with Fehr and Backstrom. Staal and Roszival both follow Backstrom into the corner leaving Zherdev to cover Ovie. He spins and fires a fluky goal that deflects off of Roszival. There is half-hearted much-rejoicing Pythonesque, "And the good guys score, yeah." On the next shift. Laich, Kozlov, and Fleischmann turn up the intensity and get a couple more shots off. Sam Rosen remarks that the momentum in the game has shifted. I put away my phone.
- At the 15 minute mark, #8 resumes his terror. He blasts around/through Redden then later in the shift outmuscles Mara and Kalinin to get to the front of the net for a deflection. Gets the rebound, takes it around the net with Mara slashing him. Punches the puck to Backstrom who gives it to Kozlov in the slot. Kozzie rips a shot that deflects into the netting as he gets hit by Mara. Ovie steps between Mara and Kozlov at the whistle then turns to camera as it breaks for commercial and yells "Fuck" loud enough for MSG and all its microphones to pickup. I start to drink water.
The third period was blissful. Ovie hit anything that moved and Theodore stopped the puck. Then the Caps came back and won. After the game, I sat in disbelief with chills staring at the Center Ice "Good Night" message and listening to the porn soundtrack for a solid 10 minutes.
I wanted to write about this game but I didn't think writing after that many beers was productive (it shows I still had some sense about me). Realizing I had the DVR running, I give a big smile, and remark to my wife that this is in the top five of the 1000's of Caps games I have ever seen. Then, I went to bed* and had glorious Caps dreams.
*Editorial note - This last part is not true. Before bed, I set up the motion detector on my webcam to figure out which dog is pissing on the patio. This, of course, failed miserably when the battery died around 2:00 am because drunk ass forgot to plug in the A/C adapter. Secretly, I fear that I'm the one doing the patio pissing and subconsciously "forgot" the power supply. Going immediately to bed just sounded better than having to explain my vain attempt to delay the inevitable realization that I'm in a territorial pissing contest with a husky and a rottweiler. Never let the truth get in the way of a good story, eh?