Donald Brashear Will Break Your Face

Ted Leonsis, majority owner of the Washington Capitals, recently defended his team against allegations that it lacked any identity and was soft. That was yesterday. Apparently, Caps coach Glen Hanlon reads Ted's blog.

If you still think the Capitals are a soft team, I suggest you have a talk with Vitaly Vishnevski. I was going to make Vishnevski's name a link to a picture of his blood stained visage after his run in with Donald Brashear, but, sadly, I was unable to find one. Thusly, the joke is sort of lost. Rest assured, if you missed tonight's 4-2 Atlanta win, that Vishnevsky (for lack of a better term) got the shit beat out of him by The Donald, as did several other Thrashers. (By other Caps, I mean. Brashear is only one man.) The moral of the story? Do not fuck with the Washington Capitals.

As an aside: Hello, everybody. Nice to see you again. I have tomorrow off in honor of our Pilgrim brethren, and I intend to use that day to explain myself and my absence from this here blog. Assuming I don't end up passed out on somebody's couch. Or floor.

O-P Field Trip: Verizon Center

As you may have noticed, I've been MIA the past week. A combination of a busy week at work and an inadequate Verizon DSL connection have conspired to keep you from experiencing my unique brand of humor. Or, at the very least, it's kept me from posting anything. To make up for it, I bring you this Very Special Entry: An officially sanctioned Opossum-Palooza Field Trip. (To find out how you can get your field trip sanctioned by the O-P, email opossum-palooza@hotmail.com.) This time around, the field trippers were myself and sometimes contributor DefDude. The occasion was Alex Ovechkin Calder Trophy (pictured) Tribute Night.

I could now go ahead and bore you with stories about the tribute ceremony (pointless photo-op followed by a pretty good video montage of Ovechkin's first season highlights) or stories of the game itself (a frustrating 4-3 overtime loss to the Atlanta Thrashers, for details go here), but I won't. Instead I will spend some time discussing the man in the Alex Ovechkin sweater sitting at the end of the row in front of us. We were lucky enough to be sitting in a section (430) with some most excellent Capitals fans who were knowledgable, funny and overall entertaining to be around. This man, however, was not any of those things. We knew we were in for some trouble when he was screaming at the people in front of him for moving to their seats while play was going on (fair point, but there are nicer ways of saying it than "Jesus, I paid good money for these seats! Sit the fuck down!"). He then proceeded to scream every single uninformed, ignorant thing you would expect to hear from someone who has almost no knowledge of the game. Whether it was trying to convince Alex Semin to shoot the puck (right before Semin made a gorgeous pass to Jamie Heward for a tap-in goal), or screaming at the Caps for not hitting more, the man could not have been any more obnoxious if he tried. The best part, however, was when, while play was still going, he pulled out his cell phone and started yammering away. The cell phone, of course, was decorated with a Number 8. No, not that number eight. That number eight. In an unfortunate turn of events, he also had a young boy of about eight or nine (whom I can only assume was his son) with him. They both left at the end of regulation, rather than stay and watch overtime.

But enough whining about the bad fans, let's get on with the pictures:

The view from our seats.

The commemorative coin. In very nice packaging.

DefDude, DefDude's unfortunate facial hair, and Alex Ovechkin's Calder Trophy.

What can I say? I was in a "take pictures of trophies" kind of mood.

Sadly, the poor digital zoom on my camera phone didn't allow me to get good pictures of "Fatty McGee" (DefDude's nickname of the jerk at the end of the row) or the clever gentleman with the number 69 jersey sitting a few rows in front of us. So this will have to be enough for you. I leave you with this, possibly the worst picture of me ever taken:

NHL Preview: Atlanta Thrashers

It's time for the eleventh installment of our thirty part series previewing the fast approaching NHL season. For those of you who were rather enjoying DefDude's most excellent previews, you are completely out of luck. Southeast division previews are being brought to you by yours truly. Check back in a week, when DefDude starts previewing the Northwest division. But for today, let's look at the Atlanta Thrashers.


The Atlanta Thrashers? Where to begin. Ordinarily, I fill this first paragraph with tales of a franchise's glory days. Problem being, with the Thrashers, the closest thing they have to a glory day is the day they drafted the (then) best Russian prospect ever in Ilya Kovalchuk (pronounced Koval-chook for you ignorant, non-Russian speakers). Other than that, the hockey fan(s) in the ATL had very little to get excited about in the franchise's first five seasons (plus lockout). Things started looking up last year, as the Thrashers were in the thick of the playoff race (well, if not the thick, then they were out there on the edge fighting for the eighth spot) up until their second to last game of the season. They eventually finished tied with the Toronto Maple Leafs for the sixth worst record in the Eastern Conference (or ninth best, if you're a glass half full type). This year, the team embarks on a noble quest to be only the eighth worst team and bring the joy of playoff hockey to the state of Georgia for the first time since the Jimmy Carter administration.

It won't be easy. The only real bright spot for the Thrash (great nickname, by the way) this offseason was the signing of backup netminder Johan "Headcase" Hedberg (you can also call him "Moose" if youd like). While he will provide a stabilizing presence in net when Kari Lehtonen inevitably goes down with an injury, the fact that he is batshit crazy should probably be a cause for concern. Not as much, though, as the loss of Jaroslav Modry, which has left their already thin defensive corps in a very bad state.

The only really good move the Thrashers front office made was the decision to do away with the team's dark blue home sweaters, and replace them with the significantly more aesthetically pleasing third jerseys (ostensibly, this was because this is the only reason anybody outside of the NHL even knows who the Thrashers are).

To keep up with the Atlanta hockey team via blog (because, really, what other way is there?) check out Thrash Talk.