Well (updated)

Today they got me.  Or rather. They got the camera lens.  In one of those freak accidents, a puck came flying through the hole in the glass and hit the camera dead on.  Even though I was already having a pretty bad week and this pretty much capped my pretty bad week I held myself together until we got to the car.

Then I cried.

And it isn't just the lens.  The lens breaking just sort of broke me too. I'm not paid for this,  if I was this probably would be more of an inconvenience than an untimely disaster.  But, hey, at least I didn't get scope eye. 

UPDATE:  So last night I was sobbing because despite my insistence that I had insurance on the lens, they kept telling us that we had not insured it.  I kept saying "I would never ever not ever ever NOT get insurance (double negative, I know, shush) on a camera lens. I insure everything."  So I was stunned.  My lens was busted and I had no way to replace it; neither insurance nor cash.  But Goliath kept repeating that the guy was just being a lazy bum who didn't really want to help. So we decided to try again and keep trying until we got results. It's just not like me to turn down insurance on a camera lens when I shoot SPORTS for crying out loud.   

Well, guess what.  I've insurance.  But now I have to beg and plead and insist and beg some more to get the lens replaced immediately rather than have them hem and haw about how they have to look into the potential for repair.  I mean....it was hit with a hockey puck in the unlikeliest fashion with enough force to disintegrate the contacts.  DISINTEGRATE the CONTACTS.   You can't repair what was completely disintegrated.  

Wish me luck and, hopefully, hopefully or I will cry some more....I will have pictures.

Stealing Thunder

I understand that I never did post an update concerning the last regular season games in which we played Bakersfield, you'll understand the madness that was the nearing playoffs as the cause of that.  Still it deserves a few sentences of recap before proceeding onto the real meat of our story.

The first thing that deserves mention of the weekend prior to this last one, was the announcement that star goaltender JP Lamoureux had returned from the AHL.  I suspect when others heard the news a cheer of delight most likely rang throughout their rooms, but for me, reading the headline, the first words, or rather word, out of my mouth was: "Really?"  

Goaltender JP Lamoureux returns to the net of the Utah Grizzlies.

I suppose I just wasn't convinced as I sincerely did not believe we were going to get him back this season...or, frankly, ever.   Then, after the initial surprise had worn off like the effect of helium on one's voice, I realized what this meant.  

It meant that two of the greatest goaltenders in the ECHL (JP Lamoureux and Andrew Engelage) were ours...just in time for the play-offs...and after that realization dawned on me I honestly gave little thought to Bakersfield.  Instead, I danced around the room with the dog.

However, the almighty Hockey giveth and it taketh away.  Saturday night I was sorry to learn that Ryley Grantham was returning to the AHL and that with JP's return, Tyler Sims, a goalie Goliath and I had come to appreciate both as netminder and as friend, was dismissed from the roster.   It was heartbreaking to trade hugs and farewells at the end of the weekend.  He's a talented man, and both Goliath and I have complete confidence in him to succeed where ever he goes on the ice or off of it.   He has too many great qualities and is too much of a hard worker to find anything less in life.  It would be nice, I think, to find one another at some banquet again, years later, and toast to finding each other prosperous and well in the sport we love. 

And on Saturday night, not only did we see JP in the net for the first time in months, but we had a new number on the ice.  Number 10.  Matt Reber.  A guy from Dartmouth College on try-out with the Grizzlies.   Off of the ice, he is quiet but approachable and easily humoured, just the sort to be underestimated and overlooked by the opposing team...which did exactly that.  One assist and a hell of a game later, Goliath and I exchanged raised eyebrows.   We hadn't been this dazzled by a new guy since Paul McIlveen and Paul wasn't playing his first professional hockey game then. Who was this Matt Reber? and holy shit!!!!

What is in the water at Dartmouth?!!!

As for the games themselves, it was interesting to note that despite the forty-two penalties combined Friday and Saturday night on display in front of ten thousand fans, I had the pleasure of sitting in the lobby afterward and watching the two teams engage one another, much differently, at the end of the night.

During game.

After game.

I know people will argue that this is pure hockey culture at work here, and it is, but...admit it...you would NOT (and we did NOT) see this on display with Stockton a few days later....when it comes to Stockton...even in the lobby after those games...you can cut the tension with a knife. The hatred there is palpable.   Goliath and I sat there alone with the entire Stockton team after the games looking like this:

Which was especially upsetting when a few of them go: "You're that youareahockeyfan blogger aren't you?"  (By the way, Zane, if you are reading this I haven't forgotten your request.)

 And then Goliath? Well, he added to the whole bizarre atmosphere by doing this:

 It was clear the Stockton Thunder weren't entirely pleased that night...and why would they be?  They too had underestimated new guy, Matt Reber; how well he would work on our offensive line, how observant those eyes were, how he could make the plays as quiet as a mouse running under the pews of the church.

Matt Reber (10)

They underestimated the man deserving of the "C" on his chest, Simon Ferguson, nearly a year older and certainly a year wiser, shouting across the ice to his teammates to be ready for the double goals and assist that were his.  A very blatant warning of things to come; an unstoppable freight train of offensive power that would take the ECHL by storm over the series. 

And this is why he has a "C".

They struggled to contain the everywhere-at-once and always involved Paul McIlveen,  were completely stunned by another new guy in Montrealer Samson Mahbod (who had the Stockton Thunder asking me about him the very next night..."Who is Number Sixteen?!" they prompted us while wearing humbled expressions),  and failed to dilute the powerful concentrate of atheletism found in Kevin Deeth's blood even when they took a cheap shot at him in a Czuy boarding incident that I'm surprised resulted in a mere two minute minor.

The "Deether"...pure athlete in concentrate.

In the end we had them 5-2...and that is why they stood there, stock still in the lobby, glowering at us, glowering at their shoes, glowering at the rain as it beat down onto the roof of the building and flooded the streets.  The Utah Grizzlies were supposed to be a team that had fallen apart.  The Utah Grizzlies were the team everyone wanted to play first; the easy-way-forward.  Instead they had found us not only restored to former glory, but with it...restored to earlier levels of energy and enthusiasm.   It had not occurred to them that with JP Lamoureux back in the net, with new players that had been mismanaged in their earlier careers suddenly finding themselves with a team they could play for, shine for,  with a Captain who had been given a chance to step back and examine himself and come back better than ever, they were facing a team that had remembered, all over again, what it wanted most.

The play-offs, you see, are incomparable...it represents to the Grizzlies precious time with the most devoted of fans and friends, with the best of teammates and the toughest of competitors; a last few games to celebrate a year that had shaped them, wizened them, hurt them, and redeemed them together.  The Grizzlies were not going to be cowed by a team that had hated them for five years straight. All they wanted was a simple hand shake.

The next night....the Stockton Thunder continued to underestimate just who and what they were dealing with.  They did not see defenseman Nick Tuzzolino (also returned from the AHL) blast his way into their house and assist his partner Giffen Nyren with a powerful goal until the horns sounded and Giffen Nyren fell to his knees in celebration, hamming it up for a crowd that remembered his game-winning goal just weeks ago.

Giffen Nyren and teammates celebrate the first goal of the night.

And while they already knew to be wary of the talented Brett Parnham, they didn't do a very good job of that either.  But now I can already see the Thunder again...walking out with much brighter smiles afterward...Garet Hunt, that villain I am admittedly fond of, nodding to myself and Goliath a polite goodnight.  They too had stunned us.  They too left us glowering at the spring rain as it fell cool and soft in the light breeze outside the double glass doors.

Stockton's McKenzie, and Grizzlies Captain, Simon Ferguson, await the official for the penalty call.

It had happened in overtime...Stocton's Czuy and Lawrence overwhelming and surprising Lamoureux and cheerfully requesting the game-winning puck from the referee's hands seconds later.  A bitter game finally won...the celebration lasted long on the ice, prompting angry glares from the Grizzlies as they skated to the tunnel, looking over their shoulders and probably muttering under their breaths to the Thunder, "Enjoy it while you can."

A few members of both teams asked if Goliath and I would be joining them for the finale in California.  We were 1-1.  Even.  With gas threatening nearly four dollars a gallon, it was my sad duty to reply, "Probably not."  Instead, Saturday evening, straddling the Wood Memorial and Santa Anita Derby of the horseracing world and the impending face-off in California between the Grizzlies and the Thunder...I tuned into the radio broadcast over the internet an hour late and signed into skype to see which youareahockeyfan blog readers were present to listen in on the road game. 

I was greeted with an explosion of messages to the tune of "WE'RE TIED. WE'RE TIED. Simon and Hugo scored!!"  I had made it part way through the third period and before I could even register that those two men who had contributed so much to our team offensively this year had continued their winning ways, Matt Reber broke the tie.  I plopped down in front of my desk and began laughing until tears came to my eyes.   Simon. Kevin and Matt Reber.  Well, with an offensive line like that,...what do you expect?   Seconds later, I was broken out of my wondering reverie with the sudden question from my good friend, Namiko: "Who is Matt Reber?!"  Well,....he's brilliant.  New. And brilliant. And he's ours.

The amount of fangirly screaming involved when Simon Ferguson missed the empty net and, instead of falling apart, focused and redirected the puck to Marcus Carroll who pushed the score to 4-2 in the final seconds of the game,  gave Goliath a raging headache afterward.  A headache which prompted him to chant "I hate hockey" in order to counter the "We love hockey!".  High off of the victory, we girls bounced and babbled and grew wide eyed at the idea that tomorrow's game was now an elimination game.  And no one slept a wink. 

Which is a real shame...because we had absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

Did we boys?

The Stockton Thunder slip.

In a word? SHUT OUT.  5-0 Grizzlies win.  

And they got their hand shake.

Simon Ferguson Makes Me Smile (wickedly)

This morning Adrian Denny posted in the grizzblog that: "No one in the ECHL has done what Simon Ferguson has done this week. The Utah captain has been a part of nine of 11 Utah’s total goals and leads the league with three goals and six assists."

This same statistic prompted Stockton sports blogger, Scott Linesburgh, to proclaim that Simon Ferguson must be stopped as he is "killing the Thunder."

And this has prompted me to go: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...followed by a very quietly mumbled "I love you, Simon."

Kick their ass tonight.