I've seen the (Tim Horton's) sign

I've been feeling a little down and worried about our 2009-10 roster this week. Sure we've got Gaborik in the picture, but who will be his linemates? Then Zherdev fucks around with his very solid qualifying offer, opting for arbitration. It pisses me off to think we gave up Tyutin for Zherdev just for Nik to bugger off to the KHL after a half-assed effort last season. Not only Tyuts, but Sather opted to qualify Nik in lieu of perhaps signing Antropov or my beloved Freddie. Completely suck. Then there's the whole Brashear issue. I might have said this before, but man that peeps diorama has been nothing but a jinx. First we lose to the Caps in the first round. Then they lose to the Pens who then go on to win the cup. To cap off the curse we actually let Orr walk and sign Brashear in his place. Larry Brooks had a pretty scathing take on this move. I totally concurred, but then my heart softened when I read this Washington Post piece from last May. Who knew Brashear had so much in common with Harry Potter? Sean Avery better watch out because Brashear's life would make for a much better movie. Ok, maybe a Lifetime movie, but still compelling. I hope they room together and bond over their mutual love of Phillipe Starck.

So here I am getting stressed over something that 1. I have no control over and 2.Isn't much of an issue until mid-September. Part of the problem is the lack of Hockey coverage - no NHL on the Fly, no Hockey Night in Canada radio. Totally understandable because there is no hockey Dollie, thus nothing to cover! I keep refreshing Yahoo! Sports hoping for relevant news to no avail. But then today two good things happened. We signed Ales Kotalik, formerly of the Sabres and recently of the Oilers. Don't know much about him but he kinda looks like Chad Hunt(nsfw) in this photo. Good enough for me. He should don a shirt and drop that towel. Our Czech contingent is getting bigger by the minute!

Then I heard great news. 13 Dunkin Donuts locations are being magically transformed into Tim Horton's franchises by Monday morning. Not only that but 3 of them are in close proximity to MSG. I've long been addicted to Tim's incomparable cocoa, and their Timbits kick Munckin ass. In the past I've gritted my teeth every time hockey coverage has shown the Tim Horton's logo adorning the boards of opposing rinks. How dare these enemy teams have access to that delicious cocoa? Now our boards can be Hortonriffic too! I think it's an omen of success and fun for the upcoming season, thus burying all of my previous doubts. Ok, not quite, but at least the games will be tastier. Note of caution: "Toujour Frais" means "Always Fresh", not "Always Strawberries"! It's a common translation problem with only a passing knowledge of French. Bottoms up!

Stay gold Andy Roddick!

Aw Andy I'd like to give you a hug too! I have to be careful what I wish for. Whenever 2 of my favorite players oppose each other I always hope for a good match, but Sunday proved to be a little too good. How can you celebrate Federer's awesome accomplishment in the face of Roddick's disappointment? Over the last weeks Andy said one of the advantages of being on tour for so long now is that there aren't many situations he hasn't experienced before, isn't prepared for. I can guarantee that he's never served to stay in the Wimbledon championship final at 14-15 in the 5th! So maybe next year on the green lawns (or even this year at the U.S.Open) this new experience will propel him even further. Maybe Agassi will give him a call and remind Andy it took him four finals losses before he ever hoisted one.
And Andy don't forget Goran's brilliant run to his fourth Wimbledon final and only Grand Slam win in 2001. You should have ready recall of your 3rd round match which I believe looked something like 7-6, 7-6, 6-4. He was so moved by beating you he literally ripped his shirt off. Notify Lacoste, I want to see some of that action at Wimbledon 2010! Breakaway polos are the future. I've seen Goran's name etched on that beautiful Golden Cup and I want nothing more than to see yours there too.

As much as I feel for Roddick, I cannot ignore Roger's unbelievable 15 Slam wins. While I was pulling for both players, as soon as Sampras took his seat (late too!) alongside Bjorn Borg and Rod Laver, I knew Roger had to win. Pete may not be as distasteful now but he still sports that ultra-smug look, and the thought of him enjoying Roger's possible defeat was enough to tip the scales of my favor. Not that it has much to do with me, Federer being the Greatest of All Time and all. Congratulations Roger!

leggo this uggo

Well I made the mistake of daring Sather last post and you know what he did to show me up? He signed Donald "Monster Face" Brashear. I can't stand that fucking guy, especially not in exchange of my beloved 4th line. Maybe he'll at least sport his G.I. Joe action figure beard this upcoming season so I don't have to see all of his face. Gotta work with us Brashear. Adding insult, Sather didn't even let us enjoy the absence of Snottie Gomez for a full day before dropping one of the dirtiest players in the league in our laps.I will say the Gomez deal was ideal, and I'm totally optimistic about Gaborik joining our team.
How cute is he here, drafted 3rd in 2000 to the Wild. I'm glad we got him instead of that jerkoff Heatley on the left. Who wants a guy that dicks around his team (and others) this much? I'm still a little nervous and not exactly resigned to the loss of Freddie and Colton Orr. What if Slats gives up too much on another gamble? Or buys up a lot of lower tier contracts like he did last year? What will our team look like, play like? Can Brashear be Wolf Pack bound. A girl can only hope.


One of the best things about tennis is that there is no GM, no overlord making decisions for the good or evil of his team, mostly on wing and a prayer. Ultimately it's just one player and his skills set against another's. In a Grand Slam tournament that means paring down 128 contenders to just two for the championship. Luckily for me my two favorite men are in the final of my favorite Slam, Wimbledon. So a whole lotta people, mostly Brits, were hoping for a Federer v. Andy final at Wimbledon. So was I, but I set my heart on a Roddick/Roger final from the very first serve, and they both delivered my wish today with masterful semifinals. I'm so proud, of Roger for his 7th consecutive finals appearance on grass and to Andy Roddick for playing to his full potential. I just don't know who to root for. I predict the match will resemble their first Wimbledon final in 2004. Very tight and well played, that's what I really want. May the best man win.

But I wanted the "REAL" fake glove!

Michael Jackson may be the King of Pop, but when I was in the 3rd Grade he was the king of everything, especially my heart. The girls in my class constantly fought over who was gonna be his future wife, but we were united in thinking that slut Billie Jean had better hit the curb. I had a beautiful foldout poster I procured from the Day & Night convenience store that I pinned up in the spot of honor directly behind my bed. I would lovingly give my 2-D Michael a goodnight kiss before bed. The ubiquitous Beat It jacket was for sale at the local Jamesway (your way!). The boys section had a liberally stocked rack featuring every size from toddler to teenager. As badly as I wanted it the price tag and the obvious male location of the item kept me from outright asking for it, but I did have my heart set on the very poor facsimile white glove they were hawking. I just had to have it if only to moonwalk in the privacy of my own bedroom, but no go. My parents countered, "What do you need one glove for? Where will you even wear a single glove?" There was no convincing them, but I must have pestered them enough that my mom (channeling Eddie Murphy's mom) said she could make me a better one herself. Despite her best efforts, the resulting glove was a travesty - a thin cotton sheath with maybe 3 silver sequins glued to it. At least she insured that it would not be worn outside the house. Today when I asked her to set aside any MJ memorabilia she comes across in the house she had the temerity to say to me, "I think you have a glove somewhere here..." Yeah, a fake fake glove. Thanks a lot mom. Anyway I never mastered the moonwalk, never became Mrs. Jackson, never was known as the Gloved One, but I did meet Michael Jackson and he was a delight. Very sweet, polite and respectful and I'll miss him.

What does Michael Jackson have to do with hockey? Not much except I believe he would have enjoyed watching the draft for the same reasons I watch every year. This 2009 edition had some buildup, some energy but as the evening wore on my excitement wore out. Still I'm happy with our pick, the top high schooler Chris Kreider. So it may take him a few years to even contemplate the NHL, but I'll wait. He's rocking an old timey WWII look I really dig - and he's fast. We're gonna need some speed in the wings especially now that Sather has bypassed a qualifying offer to my dear Freddie Sjostrom. The utter willingness to not only dismantle but totally disregard the 4th line is appalling and inexplicable to me. I know we have young kids who could fill those spots but will they comprise the leagues' top penalty kill and feature one of the top enforcers? I doubt it and I mourn. Word is Renney wants them in Edmonton. I tell you if he completely transports Freddie, Blair Betts and Colton Orr to Canada I'm on board as an Oilers fan. This is a double blow with Pronger joining the Flyers. Who's gonna protect Henrik? Orr may not be physically in the crease muscling out intruders, but his right arm keeps many attempts to assassinate our King at bay. With this news I'm not sure I'm up for any more surprises when free agency hits this Wednesday. Prove me wrong Sather, I dare you.

no diablos, no mariaches

Yesterday was a banner day for Brian Leetch. He was named as a first ballot inductee for the Hockey Hall of Fame along! Congrats #2, very well deserved. Enjoy it even if you have to put up with Brett Hull the whole time.

Unfortunately it was not such a banner day me, Miss Dollie Banner. Getting ready for work I noticed smoke coming out of the outlet above my oven. Great, chances are there's a fire in the wall. I call my landlord in a panic and he sends up the 2 Spanish brothers who have been doing an interminable amount of home construction in my building. Everything's already a bit dicey when I notice the younger brother has a red and black jersey on. Sure enough he turns around and it's sporting a blasted Devils logo. Now I'm in a literal and figural hell. When my landlord came up I complained about it and he told him, "No Diablos!" Turns out my kitchen wasn't burning, but was embarrassingly dirty

It's hard to get away from the Devils, right Leetch? That club refuses to let the Rangers celebrate anything on their own. First Scott Stevens gets inducted along side Mark Messier now Lou Lamoriello is also included in this year's festivities with a special innovators citation. Whatever. I'm surprised he'll have the time what with his nearly constant search for a Devils' coach. With Sutter off to Calgary, Lou's gotta look over the available candidates, his main criteria being a hardass who's bigger than Brodeur so the prize goalie isn't the fattest guy in the locker room. I'm thinking Michel Therrien.

Maybe this is all a sacrifice for a good draft (or a good Wimbledon). My friend Mike was joking the other day that Sather should trade down just to get rid of Wade Redden. Redden and a 1st round pick for a 7th round from Edmonton sounds great to me. At least I'm pretty sure Henrik and Avery aren't going anywhere. Speaking of Avery I cannot post without some Aves content. Here's a clip of him from Bonaroo last week. Loving the remix edition of his glasses with the lavender lenses. Very Mike Viola circa 2000. I'm thinking we should hook him up with Jack the Roadie.

Here's to an exciting and successful draft. I hope this one actually makes it to the team.

NHL all growed up

For a week without any games, there was a bunch of hockey. Sean Avery started it off with a a visit to Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. While it sweet to see him getting even more mainstream media exposure, I'd rather see him in glasses. Plus I miss the old, shall we say franker, Sean Avery. I hope Torts didn't see that segment because somebody's not been practicing his shot. And I've seen him chain smoke this off-season. Might as well live it up until August, right?
Thursday night brought the NHL awards, snatched from the CBC's semi-professional clutches and relocated to Las Vegas. I wasn't sure how the upgrade would translate. There was something adorably ridiculous about the Canadian produced specials. Ron MacLean's corny jokes and constant references to Don Cherry set the perfect tone for the low-rent affair. Basically expectations were low, so the audience could never be too disappointed. This year the awards were much fancier, so much so that it made for an even more awkward show. I think some of the winners were so overwhelmed by the set and the setting that they could barely speak straight. Or maybe it was making Steve Mason follow Chaka Khan! Two winners did acquit themselves with aplomb, Ovechkin and Tim Thomas. Ovechkin's jokes are just as corny as MacLean's, but his crazy teeth and clipped English just plain sells it. Thomas was by far the highlight. He was funny and sincerely emotional when excepting his two Goalie trophies. Did I wish it was Henrik? You bet, but I'd much rather Thomas get his due and truly appreciate it than Brodeur adding just another accolade. Speaking of Fatso, he must have been so upset at not being up for the Vezina that he forced the State of New Jersey to celebrate him that very day. I celebrated "Martin Brodeur Day" by watching the 2008 handshake line again.

In an attempt to spice up the awards I tried to figure out a drinking game before showtime. Maybe every time the camera lit on Sidney Crosby? But saints be praised he didn't even show up - must be still splashing around in Mario's pool for the kiddie swim. Anyway three prime drinking opportunities blossomed during the show:

1. mildly drunk - every time someone willfully mispronounces a player's name. I'm not even sure who it was, but it sounded like they had never even seen the name Pavel Datsyuk let alone said it aloud. It went something like "Pavement Datsun"! I know no one watches this thing, but you might want to practice before hitting national TV. Don't feel bad though dude, the Chyron operator spelled it wrong too!

2. undoubtedly drunk - every time you spot Michael Buble in the audience, on stage, in the bathroom. This dude was all over the awards. I know he's Canadian and looks good in a jersey, but he didn't even sing. Why was he even there?

3. excessively drunk - two words Jeremy Roenick. I thought I had Buble overload until Roenick introduced at least 4 segments and was in every other audience shot. Wait a second Bettman, this notoriously loudmouthed grandpa can be the poster boy of your new NHL, but Sean Avery can't be anywhere near a camera? Have you seen the amount of press Avery's generated in the last month? The Penguins couldn't even make the full cover of SI!

At least let Ovechkin host next year. You could have Don Cherry translate everything he says. Comedy gold I tell you.

Well I'll be moving on to greener pastures of Wimbledon tomorrow, or at least until the draft next week. I believe in you Roger, let's get number 6.

everything's coming up roses

First off it sucked. Gave me a bad case of Bylsma. But really, when Maxime "Bad Hands" Talbot is your number one star in a game 7 you know something has gonna horribly wrong. Right Marian Hossa?

Despite the outcome (ps You're welcome Roger Federer!) there were a few things I did enjoy during the finals. I always love hating on Marc-Andre Fleury and when the Pens consistently refered to him as "Flower" throughout this series I simultaneously rolled my eyes and ground my teeth. Not a pretty picture, but better than looking at the Flower. I would have nicknamed him "The Bite". Have you seen the mouth on that guy? The Pens did manage to coin a fine nickname for one of their own. Of course they tried to keep it a locker room secret until Jordon "The Elf" Staal let slip that Rob Scuderi earned the moniker "The Piece" when he mispoke to the press. I was hoping it was in honor of the size of his weapon, but the real story is just as classic.

I will admit that I made some peace with Malkin during the course of the playoffs. At least he seems to be a genuine human, unlike that automaton Sidney Crosby. He was so wooden during the post-game festivities than even Doc and Eddie spoke at length on NBC that they had hoped for a bit more enthusiasm from the champion captain. It seemed like he was responding to questions after a loss than the biggest win of his career (may it stay that way!) It was probably because he spent half the game on the bench. Sucks to be you Sidney, expect that it totally doesn't you lucky bastard.

In better news, it seems the non-sports media is as in love with Sean Avery as I am. Vanity Fair has a new and highly amusing interview with our man in blue. I didn't really think I had an Avery problem until I was talking hockey with my mom this weekend and after going on about him for nearly 20 mins she commented, "I think you really like this guy!" As if he was my BFF and it was time to declare my secret love. This from a women who used to regularly inquire after "Sean". We've all got it bad, but I think it's in more of bromance sort of way. I just find him awesome, and I love his take on nearly everything, except maybe fake tanning.

Also he's on Jimmy Fallon tonight. This guy gets around. Good work Sean. Do you think Bettman will DVR it? I know I will.

Here's to the Rangers in 2010!

ps. I would feel better about a parade in Pittsburgh if The Office was real and Michael Scott coercd everyone at Dunder Mifflin out to celebrate. Of course he's be sporting his "From Dwight" jersey. Yes, that would make it go down a bit easier.

rockin' and rollin' and whatnot

Just one more Federer nugget (with a bit of Murray from Flight of the Conchords for added pleasure!) Love these guys.

Do you think there was celebrating at Warren 77 when the Dallas Stars fired coach Dave Tippet? I bet there was if Avery was even there. It possible he was off to the wilds of nowhere for the 2009 Bonnaroo Festival which he's covering for Fuse.

Avery's everywhere these days. He even made one nameless team's sometimes cryptic combine questionaire to weed out the incoming draft picks. Projected #3 pick Matt Duchene let drop to Jeff Marek on Hockey Night Radio that the strangest question he was posed was, "Would you rather have dinner with Barack Obama, Maria Sharapova or Sean Avery?" I wouldn't let Gary Bettman hear my honest answer to that one. Duchene went with the diplomatic answer - Obama. Wise choice you don't want to end up on a watch list before you're even drafted!

The most precious piece of silver will be lifted tonight, please let it be the Red Wings. Here's to Lidstrom and Co. (plus the Hersey Bears) tonight!

one championship at a time

When Nadal bowed out of the French Open in a fourth round defeat I made a devil's bargain with myself: If only Roger Federer could prevail and hoist the French Open trophy I would not concentrate any energy on the Penguins failure in the Stanley Cup Finals. Although I find the thought of Crosby's name etched on the cup infinitely distasteful, the promise of Federer's on the coupe des mousquetaire, the last missing piece in his quest for the ultimate place in tennis history, was too sweet to deny. That it would be handed to him by my other tennis sweetheart Andre Agassi, the last man to win all four, was an image I ached to see realized. And here it is to your left. Look at those pair of cheeks (and for once I mean the ones on their faces)! You can hardly tell Roger had already been crying for a good 10 minutes. He really is the Mark Messier of tennis, but I love his emotions and his inability to control them at times of both victory and defeat. For someone who can almost surgically disect his opponents it can be easy to forget just how much his success means to him.

Can you imagine the relief Roger must have felt in finally overcoming this one hurdle? It's the kind of accomplishment I want so badly for Henrik, Avery and the Rangers and it would be sweet justice if Crosby never achieved it. Unfortunately he's one game away, but so are the Red Wings, even if Lidstom's already been immortalized 4 times. Let's hope for 5!

air conditioner tv restaurant

Tonight we went to Warren 77, Sean Avery's Tribeca bar/restaurant.

It was a delight.

We got there at about 7:45. It was a little busy. While a magical dream of a server made us up a table for four out of nothing at all, a stylishly rumpled brunette walked by us in the entryway, and smiled at my friend's talk of the Yankees game. In short order, she was joined by her bespectacled pallie, stunning in a t-shirt and jeans. Her pallie was Sean Avery. We're in the place 30 seconds and we're face to face with Sean Avery. Yes. Yes. Yes.

We were welcomed, seated and perusing the menu in less than two minutes. Our table enjoyed two of the signature cocktails, the Pimms Cup (Pimms, cucumbers, mint, ginger ale, duh) and the Red Velvet (champagne and berry puree), both very delicious and very reasonably priced at $12. A Coke was $3 (In a bar? In Manhattan? YES.) Gin & tonic was $8. Can't complain even a little.

TVs were tuned to the Yankees game, then the NBA playoffs (then Law & Order, inexplicably - Mr. King MSG shout out?). They were spinning what sounded like the soundtrack to "Stand By Me" for most of our time there, not terribly original, but completely enjoyable. Then they played Belle & Sebastian's "We Rule the School" followed by the Archies' "Sugar Sugar." Possibly broadcast from my iPod.

Anyway, we ordered several drinks, plus the mac and cheese ($14), grilled cheese with tomato soup ($9), a burger and fries ($14), and cookies ($7) to finish up. All completely delicious. I can speak more on the grilled cheese because I had it. Yum. The tomato soup was extra great - thick but light and very freshly tomatoey. The grilled cheese was crispy and cheesy and perfect for dipping. If you order a cheeseburger, they ask "cheddar or blue." Two cheeses, and one is blue? This is where I belong.

PS As I write this, Dollie is singing "Inigo Montoya, you killed my father" to the tune of "Kokomo." Please deliver me from evil.

So yeah, between the attention of our gorgeous (in that amazing fresh-faced pink-cheeked, dark haired, fair skinned Snow White way) server and the constant back and forth pacing of Sean Avery himself - who didn't come over and speak to us, but was definitely keeping an eye on all happenings - there was no lack of hospitality. We all felt comfortable and happy and eager to return for more.

PPS Dollie is singing "Karate, I love it" to the tune of "All Night Long." Yeah, really.

As for the atmosphere, there's sports stuff hanging up, but in a very non-obtrusive way - if you weren't looking, you wouldn't see the shot of Avery scoring on Brodeur behind the bar - and TVs are there if you're watching but easy to avoid. I don't know if it is the comfy darkness or authentic side-street atmosphere, but the place really reminded me of the Cooler (late of West 14th Street) - a ringing endorsement from me that may sound scary to those who prefer their Meat Packing to come with velvet ropes and table service rather than tranny hookers with stab wounds. (Long story.) Warren 77 is, of course, in a totally safe, um, upscale, area. It just doesn't feel like a sterile startup.

A note on the bathroom: I've never been to jail, but now I have peed like a detainee (in a pristinely clean, well-appointed prison.)

Warren 77, I give you five stars. I want to go again tomorrow.