Here is a video of some pregame ceremonies at an unknown date in Toronto. Stay tuned for the whole thing!

     
Hey there losers, it’s your old pal, JR again. Hockey season is just around the corner. For most of you, this means that your time spent drinking and watching shitty reality shows can now be redirected to drinking and cursing your favorite team, like God intended.  I remember this time was so thrilling as a player—getting to see your team buddies again, making fun of the guys who couldn’t speak English, and hazing the crap out of the new guys (if Brendan Shanahan is reading this, the last bit was only about funny stuff, like shaving cream in the shoe stuff. Nothing weird like naked stuff or shaving. ) If you’re reading this, you’re probably not a player, but you might have a fantasy team. Here are some tips from a bonafide fantasy master (well, I am the master of my own fantasies) to help you become king of the nerds.


Stats, stats, stats stats…EVERYBODY
Every fantasy pool has at least one guy who is obsessed with memorizing and computing stats for every player and situation. He’s someone who probably can’t watch a game without a graphing calculator and thinks he’s king of everything because he can do MATH. Don’t be this guy. He’s probably someone who wants to be the best at everything because they’ve either had a shit life and need a pathetic victory to keep going or they have somehow “earned” the right to be better than everyone else by simply existing. This guy is an unlikeable dick, and you don’t want be that guy. But you need this guy in your pool because watching their precious fortress of nerdery and snobbishness crash because his “statistically solid guy” gets injured? That’s effin’ priceless.

Being der kommissar
If you’re the commissioner, good friggin’ luck. You’re stuck trying to coordinate schedules and trying to get a group of anywhere from 8 to 20 dimwits to agree to something. Honestly, herding chickens might be easier, but I’ve never done that. I do have one suggestion: even with all the crap it takes to get it done, do a live draft instead of autopick. Trash-talking your opponents is probably the most fun you’ll have during this whole exercise, so let ‘er rip! Also, try to schedule your drafting for a time when cracking open a beer or twelve is socially acceptable (if you’re a blogger by trade, this hour is all day, every day.)

The 27 club
It’s been said that if a hockey player is 27, but has not made the big jump yet, he either won’t do it, or will die tragically. Honestly, after this offseason, I’m not sure which it is.

Screw the Flyers
Seriously, screw this team. Screw their fans, and screw Chris Pronger’s stupid face. Yes, Flyers fans are crazy, stupid, SOBs, and I hope they burn in hell. Then again, they have to live in Philly, so….they’re kinda already there. At least it’s not Detroit, I guess.

This last point’s EXTREMELY important, and I cannot stress it enough. If you take away nothing else, take this:
NOBODY, AND I MEAN NOBODY, GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOUR FANTASY TEAM
Seriously. By the start of December, half of your league will forget they’re in the league. Stats wanker guy will be bitching about how nobody takes a supposedly fun leisure activity seriously enough. Your comish will probably be drunk, if they weren’t drunk already. Seriously, your own league doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your team, so why would some random guy on the bus care? It’s the rare lady who will be impressed by your fantasy prowess, and if she is, she’s probably the one kicking your ass in the league each week. For the love of all things holy stop bitching about your fantasy team in place of conversation! Nobody else gives a shit.

This is a repost from my other site, The Victoria Times. I really apologize for the meloncholy tone of the site lately, and I really hope this is the last time. Also, this post has nothing to do with hockey.

One skill that I picked up early on college was the ability to sleep. Now that I didn't have my parents to wake me at the hour of their choosing, I could sleep in just as late as I wanted. Assuming that I didn't have any classes. Tuesday's schedule was my lightest, just one calculus review course which I planned on skipping anyways. There was no homework due, and there was a test scheduled that evening. I studied better on my own. I stayed up fairly late on Monday and was sleeping hard Tuesday morning. My roommate was at class when the phone rang, meaning I had to get out of bed to answer it myself.

It may have been the worst phone call I have ever answered.

The Tuesday in question was ten years ago today, and I had the worst information possible. Jon, my roommate's friend, was on the other end of the line: "Hey, are you watching TV?" No, I had just climbed out of bed. "There are planes crashing all over the place. Two in New York, one in Pennsylvania and one even hit the Pentagon!" How?! "I don't know!" I had to make some calls of my own. Working with that information, less than 2 years after the millennium turned, I immediately thought there was some global computer error bringing down planes. I wasn't told that the two had been flown into the World Trade Center. I thought this was a global catastrophe. I needed to make sure my family was OK. Before even turning on the TV, I phoned home. No answer. Panic stricken and remembering my aunt and uncle's number, I called them and got the machine (I wish they had saved that message. It's the masochist in me that wishes I could have recounted what I said on that machine, exactly). I was three states away from home, I didn't know anyone (it was only my 3rd week at Purdue), and I had no idea what was going on, and I couldn't get a hold of my parents, or anyone back in Minnesota. I had never felt so alone in my life.
Of course, I couldn't get a hold of anyone at home, because it was 10AM on a Tuesday. Everyone was at work. Actually, my dad had the day off, and had gone golfing. He shot the round of his life and still has the ball  he used, scrawled with the date and his score, on a mantle in the family room at my parents' house. It's a surreal reminder of how life was interrupted that day.

My story ends like almost everyone's that day. Well, it ended the same way it ended for the lucky ones, most Midwesterners. I spent the rest of the afternoon watching the news. I don't believe I spoke with my parents at all that day, but as soon as I understood what had happened, that particular fear had been alleviated. I was able to talk to a friend who was going to the University of North Carolina, so I knew that this disaster, at least, wasn't global. Beyond that, my memories of the day grow a little foggy.

The one thing that does stick out in my memory was how, in the days and months afterward, the nation changed and I grew up. Collectively, we realized the pain of others in the world world, and responded with sorrow, rage and eventually compassion. It was a great time for humanity. For once, we were all united, even if it was by this horrible tragedy.

Today is the anniversary of another horrible event. Six months ago, the earthquake and tsunami that devastated northern Japan and shocked the world killed 5 times as many people as our tragedy ten years ago. I'm not saying that you should stop grieving and memorializing the victims of the attacks. Far from it. Instead, I am pleading with you all to remember the mutual compassion that bound us in the months following the attack, and remember that there are still others that need our support, in New York, in Washington, in Japan and across the world. This social consciousness was to be the positive result of a horrible event. Please, don't let that escape our grasp.

Oh, and I failed that test. 

It has been an awful, awful summer for hockey. The personal tragedies of Derek Boogaard, Rick Rypien and Wade Belak have struck a political chord across hockey and sports. After people reflected upon the tragedies of lives lost to soon, it opened up introspection for those who have suffered with, or those who know someone with depression issues. It gave the NHL more motivation to explore the threat of concussions to player's short term and long term health. It may help create sweeping cchange across all sports, actually. Would Sidney Crosby be as cautious about his return without the sad passing of Boogaard, Rypien and Belak? Perhaps not.
But what happened on Wednesday simply does not have a silver lining, as hard as you may look. I'm sure you have all heard now, but an airplane taking the Lokomotiv Yaroslavl KHL team to Minsk, Belarus crashed and killed all but two aboard. Among the dead are former NHLers Pavol Demitra, Stefan Liv, Karel Rachunek, Ruslan Salei, Karlis Skrastins, Joseph Vasicek, Alexander Vasyunov, Brad McCrimmon, Alexander Karpovtsev and Igor Korolev, the last three being coaches with the team. I think it's important to see them listed like this, all ten men. It brings to bear the scope of this tragedy. Every team, every player, every true fan of the game of hockey was affected by this disaster.
For me, a Minnesota Wild fan, Pavol Demitra's untimely passing is undoubtedly the most notable (I refuse to say the saddest, because they are all sad). Demitra came to Minnesota when the Wild were at a crossroads. Were they ready to come into their own, become a stready presence in the playoffs? If so, they needed to give Marian Gaborik a reason to stay, and they needed to find him some help at the offensive end. Demitra was that man. A fellow Slovak and dear friend off the ice, and that yin to Gaborik's Yang off the ice. Gaborik stayed, and the Wild achieved their greatest success while Demitra was in St. Paul. He was too quiet to be popular, but too efective to be disliked. IF anything, Demitra was well respected, a rare feat for athletes this day in age.
Ruslan Salei was the thorn in Minnesota's side when the teams met in 2003's Western Conference finals. Karlis Skrastins was one of the league's go to "funny names" in a league that has many. Joseph Vasicek was the player on EAs NHL 2006 that seemed to be signed and traded weekly. Now, all three have been humanized in their deaths, becoming more than just a name. They were all people we were familiar with just by being fans of the game, and now they have been abruptly taken away from us. If you are like me, and have been reading the touching tributes to any of these 10 men, you regret not getting to know them better.
Demitra, Liv, Rachunek, Salei, Skrastins, Vasicek, Vasyunov, McCrimmon, Karpovtsev and Korolev. All gone too soon. 

Last year, the BMR fantasy hockey league was a bit of disaster. Well, for me it was. Time constraints really put a damper on my ability to forth any real effort into the season, and I was the freaking commissioner. I don't know how the rest of you did. Mostly because I didn't do a good job paying attention.

So, if you are interested in having a BMR fantasy hockey league again, please let me know. I intend to put forth a better effort this season. Let me know below in the comments or via e-mail if you are interested.

LEE STEMPNIAK: Hello, everyone! I know the show’s been on a bit of a hiatus, but today I’m happy to announce the return of “Ask Lee Stempniak!”  For this series reboot, my cohost for this episode is none other than Phoenix Coyotes pinerider and Twitter sensation Paul Bissonette.

PAUL BISSONETTE: ‘Sup? This better be good, I got some hot Biznitches to entertain later.
 

STEMPNIAK: Well folks, it looks like this “Scraping the Bottom” character sent us a bunch of questions…in March? I’ve been putting this off for that long?

BIZNASTY: Holy schnike, bro. You get too much sun during your golf game or what?

STEMPNIAK: Question 1:

Dude,What up? Do you think that this "Josh" fellow will win the BMR Fantasy Hockey playoffs? If so, will someone from BMR send him a Snickers bar? Or, at least...will he get some goddam recognition and a picture of a homemade BMR Stanley Cup? The suspense is killing me...I like totally owned everyone in the regular season and all I get is: Nothing. Nada. Nathan. WTF???

BIZNASTY: Man, this guy sounds good and pissed off. Or drunk, or both.

STEMPNIAK: Who is Josh? What is “Barry Melrose rocks”? Barry Melrose doesn’t rock.  He might adult contemporary, but he doesn’t rock.

BIZNASTY: Beats me.  Well Josh, here’s your recognition.  Send me a direct message on Twitter and I can send you some discounts for a genuine Biznasty panty soup t-shirt. Congrats on your fantasy win—good on ya for beating all the other nerds at pretending to be smart and cool.
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As you may or may not know, in real life, I am a meteorologist. It's true! I thought, with Hurricane Irene dominating the news and me having such a great platform to inform the masses, I would exercise my meteorological muscle and give forecasts for every NHL team that might be in line for Irenes wrath.

Carolina Hurricanes: Whoa. A hurricane affecting the Hurricanes? Sorry to blow your mind with just the first one. I'm too confused to forecast this one.

Washington Capitals: Washington looks to hold up well to the storm on paper, but I think when it comes to crunch time, Washington is just going to fall apart in the end.

Philadelphia Flyers: It wasn't all that long ago that Philadelphia was looking pretty good, but an inexplicable series of decisions has left Philadelphia vulnerable.

New Jersey Devils: This far north, the threat for rain will be the biggest thing. The only thing that could save Newark is a seawall. A fat, aging seawall.

New York Rangers: So much rain. So much damage. Could bring a tear to Mark Messier's eye

New York Islanders: Could get blown all the way to Quebec. Not that anyone will notice or care.

Boston Bruins: Oooooohhhh nooooooo a hurricane. Protect the Stanley Cup. Screw You, Boston.

(For a more realistic look at the hurricane, take a look at my weather site, Victoria-Weather.com. ~~cRoSs-PrOmOtIoN~~)

I want to write about Rick Rypien because of recent events.  Even if he and I were two different people, I think we have some common threads.  There are no dickjokes or silly chat rooms in this one, and it does get rather personal.

Rypien and I have both had issues with severe depression. I don’t know if he had some specific circumstances or conditions, but I know my conditions and I see that we have some things in common. For example, we both grew up in pretty small towns that were more rural than urban. I know I was a child who was more emotionally sensitive than my siblings and my family had no real use for emotions. They never talked about feelings and any difficulties (even physical ones, like my brother’s diabetes) were never explored outside of the factual account that they happened.  There was no reflection or discussion of anything. 

There was always a feeling that talking about things that were wrong was complaining and whining.  It meant that you couldn’t “just suck it up and deal.”  In short, expressing concerns was an admission of weakness—you were marked by others as a difficult, whiny, needy bitch (in every sense of the term.)

I assume everyone has a boozy calendar. Mine is a wall calendar with pictures of Dave Andreychuk that I made myself. Yesterday was marked "Wedding reception -- open bar". I don't remember who got married.

Your boozy calendar is not for the past, however, it is for the future, and the NHL has released the national TV schedule for the 2011-2012 season!. Knowing that many of these games will turn into drinking games, this is very important for you and me. 

I think I better brush up on my Boston and Pittsburgh jokes.