The Opossum-Palooza

It's okay. We don't know what the name means either.


Separation Anxiety

"Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Finals" may be the seven most glorious words in the English language, but they are also bittersweet. It's going to be tough having to wait three full months before seeing hockey again. I don't think I will ever really understand how it is I managed to survive The Lockout. That said, I think my anxiety this time around stems from the fact that I have alot more to look forward to next season than probably any other offseason in the team's history. (That'd be the hapless Washington Capitals, if you're just now stumbling across the site.) In the meantime, I'll try to keep myself busy with the likes of the NHL Awards show on OLN Thursday night (not bloody likely, actually, as there is a bar in Petworth showing the USA World Cup game on tape delay that night, or so I'm told) and possibly heading all the way out (ugh) to Maryland for the Caps' Draft Day Party Saturday night, assuming I can trick someone into going with me.

I expect this blog to go into a bit of a lull now. I've tried to make it not so much hockey-focused, but I can't say I really know enough about anything else to really say anything intelligent. (I can't say I know enough about hockey to say anything intelligent either, but that is neither here nor there.)



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