eight-point plan

Last night we sat in a hotel room in Atlantic City, watching the Philadelphia sports station and eating room service. It didn't come close to the MSG TV experience — Jim Jackson, you are no Sam Rosen. "Coatsey" can't hold a candle to the incomparable Stan Fischler (good thing we'd taped "Rangers Gamenight" to see the birthday festivities and baby pictures!) And Keith Jones? Bleh.

Anyway, I'm so grateful to the team for delivering a win (though it was far too close for comfort) and to the Caesars' kitchen for delivering a pretty great hamburger (though the night before's Morton's feast could not be matched).

I'm also grateful that Jagr was able to find a little room and do some serious scoring. Here's hoping he takes that success and gets himself on a roll. A confident #68 could be an unstoppable force.

Today, we go to MSG to cheer and panic and cheer some more, I hope, in person. We do that Tuesday from home, and then we do it again at MSG on Thursday.

And now for the begging portion of our program:

• Please that we may be firmly in the playoffs by Thursday, and only playing for position (I'll take #6, thanks.)
• Please that the team photo is all I've hoped it will be — and I get out of there with way more than one. (Yes, that is also important.)
• And please that I spend a whole lot more time after Thursday at MSG over the next two months.

We've got our tickets reserved, boys. Now make us use them.

hear the sound of marching, charging feet

Who is awesome? Sean Avery, who called Martin Brodeur (UGH!) a big whiner. A BIG WHINER! YES!!! And I missed it. Why? Because of a bleeping Knicks game, I had to watch the Rangers/Devils game on the Devils channel (though MSG said "Tune in to MSG2," there was no MSG2 last night). Grr. Still and all, Sean Avery is my new hero. Also, I watched the game, and saw the "goalie interference/roughing" moment in replay 62 times, and Brodeur started it. Whiner. BIG WHINER! Also, they are the Devils. And I am confident that God don't like ugly OR evil, I don't care how much they win.

you're ugly because you're ugly

The Rangers won again (oh thank you thank you, lovelies) thanks in no small part, I'm certain, to my rediscovery of the power of a well-placed "You're ugly!" scream at the other team during the game. It got us the Cup in 1994, I assure you, and calling Pavel Bure ugly wasn't easy. "LeCavalier, you're an ugly bastard and you stink" stuck in my throat on Friday night as well, but it turned into a 5-0 win. Good thing 90 percent of the most beautiful players are on our team.

dressed in green, saying something obscene

Everything I know tells me you don't start an entry bragging about how good your team is doing at the start of the game. Except last Monday, when I did, it was our greatest game ever. So the Rangers are up 2-0 on the Red Wings right now. Cullen got an assist on a Shanahan goal (against Detroit — this is a big deal), and Nylander followed up about 10 seconds later with the second goal. Gorgeous. Now Cullen's in the penalty box. Oh, we just killed their power play. Lovely.

Boo. Detroit just scored.

Have I mentioned that Matt Cullen's dad made a training video? He was a hockey coach. Well, it's called "Stickhandling, On and Off the Ice." Doesn't that sound like something that we (we being me plus Dollie) said during a game (because I'm sure we have).

TV Commentator: "He's got some great stickhandling, Bob"
j and/or d: Ho ho! On and off the ice.

The game is just lousy with really lame dirty jokes, which are always funny.

So yeah, 2-1. We're on the power play. And I'm going to go away for now. But wait, there will be more. Keep us in your thoughts, won't you?

Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson are there. Liam Neeson is there a lot. How come I never see him?

Ooh, now it's 3-1.

Noooooooooooooooooo! Now it is 4-3, and we don't have 4.

They lose. I cry and cry and I die.

three will love you so much

Wouldn't it be a kick if I started calling hockey games right here (live-blogging, I think the kids call it). Well, it would be a kick for me. Anyway, the second period of the Rangers at the Bruins is just starting, and we're up 2-1.

And which line did both of those goals come from? The third line. The line they bumped Matt Cullen (Eeee!) to because he was apparently outclassed as a second-line center. Whatever. Now he's centering Prucha and Ortmeyer. That is a trio I can really get into. Two Americans, even. And we (yes, now this is MY line) got both goals. So there.

PS And yes, I am the top search result for "stab myself in the neck". Good times.

PPS 8:18: Now it's 3-1. And yep, my line again.

Oh, and 8:22: Boston power play. Rangers' short handed goal. Whose? Matt Cullen's. It's 4-1. My line has all four goals.

Alrighty. It's 9:41. It's a 6-1 final, thanks to Shanahan's penalty shot and a Nylander goal. It wasn't an ALL third-line victory, but close enough. And what a joy! I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. Seriously.

yeah, no problem, Tyuts

I'm not sure what you know about "Bobby Granger's Guide to the Rangers" (very little is my guess. If I'm wrong, let me know. We have so much to discuss!) but it is a series of short spots promoting the greatest sport's greatest team (this is not defined with win/loss stats, clearly). Anyway, they are all quite funny and deliver precious off-ice seconds with the players.

Last night, Dollie introduced me to this one, which is my favorite ever, not just because Matt Cullen is in it (he's the ping-pong playing "Bonehead" who doesn't understand Russian) but mostly because it made me laugh for at least 15 minutes after I saw it. That plant? Comedy gold. I've never caught this one on TV, and I seriously watch hours of MSG a day. So I'm sharing. Enjoy!

I'll serve you just to serve

Today is a very sporting day. First was the marathon, which I mark not by running 26.2 miles, but by clapping and "whoo!-ing" nonstop for three hours. It's exhausting, and probably the most athletic thing I do all year. Here's a photo I found on Flickr from today. I'm in it. So's Dollo. Can you find us?

And now the hockey game is on. It is too hot in here (or I am too fevery) to keep my new gorgeous amazing Beukeboom jersey on (#23, son!).

I can't go to sleep 'cause I'm too damn scared

I just saw the single most disturbing commercial ever. All you need to know is this quote:

Honey, why is Peter Forsberg in our bed?

UGH! Of all the hockey players in the world. I mean, really. What a nightmare.