Saturdays with Sully – Last Time Detroit Plays in Phoenix

Well the countdown to H2H2 is at 150 hours, as I crawl out from underneath my hangover to write this. Busy day for me, as I head to Phoenix to watch the Wings play tonight against the Ky-oaties. Always a dangerous drive, that, and last time I narrowly avoided Harkonnen treachery that awaited me on the other side of the dust storms.

Detroit has a fairly good record in games I’ve attended, losing once in regulation and only once, but as we learned earlier this week, even a perfect record of mine can be snapped by the dangerous Pacific Division (and I’m saying that sarcastically, for a change).

As I’ll be present for this game, I won’t be LB’ing but I will be getting my practice in for H2H2, as in practice for some good ole fashioned sport drinking. It’s amazing how difficult it was for me to get into good physical shape after quite a long winter of binging, but it’s equally as impressive how unresponsive my body is to chuck out the health and rebuild a respectable tolerance to alcohol. Once again, I’m gonna soldier through it because like most things, I do this for you.

Jimmy’s back in net and I’m looking for Detroit to answer for their recent slow starts and piss-poor efforts. This is a great game to be present for.

Lastly, I’ll just add that last time I was at a Red Wings game at Arena I asked a local police officer (in a friendly manner, I wasn’t being detained) if it were actually the law to throw people in jail who were caught tossing an octopus on the ice.

“Any throwing of objects onto the ice surface, field or stage during a public event at our facilities here in Glendale warrants arrest, yes.” So there you have it, I won’t be tossing our favourite mollusk onto the ice. Interesting to note though: Phoenix, like most NHL teams in other cities, hate our rich tradition of shelling out the cephalopod during games. Which got me thinking, do you know who else hates the Octopus?

(lengthy, but great listening)

Karl Pilkington. Yep. Kind of makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Or, as Phoenicians would probably say, “kind of weird, innit?