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Phoenix Coyotes Category

Friday, September 18th, 2009

09-10 Season Preview: The legend continues…

Warning: Very long and abstract entry ahead!

My blog has had an incredible growth over the off season, and so I know that many of you are new readers that don’t really know what to expect from me during the season. Psycho Lady was really created to be my online diary as a hockey fan. I wanted to show other hockey fans the game through the eyes of a single female alone on the road and getting in to all kinds of trouble. Naturally, I haven’t had the need to post any journal-like entries over the summer since there haven’t been any hockey games for me to go to. Anyway, today is the eve of my hockey season. My NHL action begins tomorrow night with the Flyers and the Leafs!!

If my blog were a TV show, then this would be the part of the season premiere where we revisit what happened at the end of last season so as not to strain the memories of the viewers. The major event of last season was my “mystical six game road trip.” I have alluded to it a few times over the off season, but, truthfully, I clam up whenever people ask me about it or anything relating to my switch to the Phoenix Coyotes. The events of the six game (eleven day) roadie, and all subsequent games, are still detailed in the blog archives, though, I find them terribly embarrassing.

Despite embarrassment, I feel that I need to suck it up, and share my story with you once again, as it will be in the foreground of every hockey game I go to whether I choose to write about it or not. Everything I am, and everything I have (and don’t have) is in this story, and so I know that the only reason I can handle such vulnerability is because I know that you can’t see me. Know that if I were to have to tell you this story face to face, I’d be a deep shade of crimson, glassy-eyed, and stuttering like a nervous moron. An open mind is required for reading this entry, but rest assured that everyone who has heard the story agrees that it is pretty incredible to say the least. Here goes.

I know that there is an overwhelming population out there who don’t believe in psychics or anything of that nature for moral or “scientific” reasons. I will admit that there are lots of hacks out there; “sidewalk psychics” who will read your palm for ten bucks and all that crap. Of course, with any psychic, it’s important to just listen to what is being said and see what happens. After all, you can’t accurately judge a psychic on the spot – you have to wait and see if anything actually comes true.

Back in February 2008, I began to notice a trend with the psychics I was seeing. They had all seen the same thing, and claimed that my “soul mate,””true love,” “destiny” had a connection to Arizona. Arizona seemed like a really bizarre place for me to find romance. It was not on my list of places to visit, and I knew, as the crazy hockey fan I am, that I wouldn’t go there unless it was for hockey. This inevitably brought up the question, “Why the @#$% would I want to go see the @#$%%# Phoenix Coyotes!?!” I decided to just brush it off, and hope for the best, but the same predictions kept coming at me at a faster and faster pace.

By the start of the 08-09 season, I was really beginning to feel like this switch was going to happen even though I desperately didn’t want it to. In my heart, I knew exactly what was going to go down. I started going to more and more games, hoping that I could somehow cheat fate and have this whole Arizona mess averted not only for my sake, but for the sake of all those involved. However, by November, I just accepted it. I pulled up the Coyotes schedule and made out a spread sheet (yes, that’s right, I do that) of possible game plans for the rest of the season should it come to that. The team had a five game eastern kick scheduled in March. This really stuck out to me, and I even highlighted it in a special colour. By Christmas, I had rearranged my finances to support following a Western team instead of an Eastern team – mainly this meant more flights, and less road trips. I was pretty much just waiting for it to happen, but still praying every night that it wouldn’t.

March finally rolled around, and nothing had happened. I was starting to believe that nothing was going to happen. I was on my way to Boston for a game on March 3rd. Boston had really stuck out to me as a place I needed to go, so I made sure I was there for both of my team’s games last season. Anyway, a very odd thing happened when I was packing for the trip. I was only going to be gone for two days, but I packed like I was going to be gone for two weeks. I know this is normal for a lot of girls, but this was really out of character for me. Aside from bringing a spare shirt and pair of socks, I’m usually a really light packer. For absolutely no reason at all, I just kept piling clothes into that suitcase.

The day after the game, I was sitting in Logan International waiting for boarding. I had arrived extra early that day because I wanted to have my flight moved up. They were going to charge me more than what I already paid for the ticket to move it up a few hours, so I promptly said, “Fuck that!” and decided to catch up on some studying. After I finished reading one of the books, I began thinking about the Arizona business again. It was the NHL trade deadline, and I knew deep down that a trade was the key to me switching to Phoenix. I was thinking about how lucky I was that the trade didn’t happen, but I suppose I spoke (thought) too soon.

At that moment, my phone went off. A friend that I hadn’t spoken to in months was texting me to inform me of a trade – THE trade. I jumped out of my seat knowing that this was THE moment, that my time had arrived. I had to act. I had to do something, but I didn’t know what. Suddenly, another text came through, “They play in Buffalo on Friday.” The light bulb went off – my spreadsheet, the eastern kick! The Coyotes must have been on that very road trip! I threw open my suitcase, grabbed my lap top, and quickly found my way over to the Coyotes website. “Next game @ Boston.”

I started to pace around the airport. Something had to be done. I had always said that I didn’t know if I could handle switching teams at random. I wanted to have a flawless transition so it didn’t look like I just abandoned one team for the other. Here I was in Boston while receiving word that I needed to be in Boston – an odd coincidence to say the least. Anyway, I was pacing and I had naturally turned bright red. My brain was saying, “Sit down. Let’s talk this out rationally,” But every other part of me was racing at top speed toward the exit sign.

No matter what you believe about psychics, I think even the biggest skeptics will agree that if a prediction came to fruition, they would probably still act on it. I always use the example of the lottery ticket. If someone or multiple someones kept telling you that you were going to win $27M in the lottery from a ticket you bought at a specific vendor, would you not buy that ticket if you found yourself standing in the doorway of that store even if it was a year later? I think we both know that you’d happily hand over that $2!

My mom used to always say that she didn’t need to have a son because I practically am one. I’ve never been overly girly; never did that whole girl’s night crap like watching chick flicks and reruns of the heinous trolls on Sex and the City. Anyway, my point is that I’ve never had these fairytale, silver screen romantic notions. But at the same time, I was not much for dating around. I always felt like I’d know when something was right, and, unlike some people, I’m not cruel enough to lead someone on. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but at the same time I don’t want to get trapped with the wrong person. I don’t think I’ve ever agreed to a second date in my entire life for that very reason. Maybe this is the wrong approach to take in life, but it has been my approach to this point.

Trembling from a sudden fever at Logan International, I was at my crossroad. Do I take the safe route, turn back, and wonder what could have been? Or do I put my own life on pause in pursuit of the man of my dreams who may or may not exist? For someone who never had love as a top priority this was a major change for me. I would say that this event turned me into a girl pretty damn fast because there was no doubt in my mind about what was the right thing to do. All I knew was that if this person was really linked to this event, then I would do anything for him anyway – the only catch was that I didn’t know him yet. This was by far the most romantic gesture I’ve ever done.

***I feel that it is important for me to stress that I am not under the impression that I am necessarily meant to be with someone who plays for the Coyotes. I see the trade more as a catalyst, but I do know that this person could be anyone. Besides, I doubt there is a hockey player out there man enough to handle someone like me. There is a reason they date fake girls with fake boobs.***

Like I said, I ran like hell toward the exit sign, and hopped in the first cab that would take me back to the hotel. I lied my way out of exams, convinced professors to give me extensions on papers, and went completely AWOL. My family allegedly resorted to tracking my location on my blog, and tried to figure out why I was going from Boston to Buffalo, Long Island, Detroit, and Newark. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew that my best bet was to shadow the Coyotes road trip until I figured things out.

Deep down, I think I was hoping for lightning to strike as soon as I found myself back in my seat at TD Banknorth Garden. But nothing was immediately obvious to me. On top of it, my stress levels were through the roof. You can only imagine how uncomfortable it is to know that you are being completely insane and going to hockey games for less than admirable reasons. I have never felt more vulnerable in my entire life. My heart was exposed for all to see and that made me want to die. It also made me overly sensitive when I encountered dick moves in Buffalo, and extreme dick moves in Anaheim. I felt like I was being completely slaughtered. I had risked so much to be there for whoever it was, and I was being abused to the point that I was starting to regret ever taking the chance in the first place.

The interesting thing was that whenever there was a sign of trouble, another sign of encouragement would immediately follow in its place. After a horrible game in Buffalo, I found myself in Long Island wishing that I didn’t already have the tickets for the game and thinking that I should have just given up back in Boston. Nassau Coliseum really gave me my first positive reinforcement to keep on track. I had miserably wandered into the little girls’ room when one of those ugly metal framed advertisements stopped me in my tracks. I felt like I was being physically held in front of the sign until I understood it. It was an ad for immigration to Scottsdale. At first I didn’t think anything of it. It didn’t seem out of place to me, until I realized that I wasn’t in Phoenix –I was in Long Island. I knew then that I had to go to Arizona, and made sure to book a stay in Scottsdale before the season ended.

As the Coyotes games continued, I felt myself really starting to crack under the pressure. Trust me, you don’t know stress until you’ve experienced a saga like this. The game in Anaheim was a total disaster. I was finally broken. I gave up. I couldn’t do it anymore; I couldn’t handle the constant hi-sticking to my heart and my ego. The problem was Phoenix was still booked. I was scheduled to touch down for the last game of the season. I decided that I would give it one more shot, but that I wouldn’t go to anything else until that game.

Phoenix finally came around, and it was a really great game. Apart from discovering that Arizona men seemed to be all over my stuff to the point that they sprint after me down the street, my mystery man still remained a mystery. Now I was facing a very long off season, and I still had no answers or any clue as to where to go from there.

I didn’t like the idea of having six months to agonize over the value of my recent decisions. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and try to rule out or confirm the most likely candidates for the position of mystery man. It has been a long summer of nerves resulting from setting myself up for rejection over and over again; and not just any rejection, the worst kind – MySpace rejection. You can only imagine the bitterness one would feel after all this drama. I risked my financial security, my education, my job for this, and for what? My heart is starting to feel like scar tissue.

So, I found myself back at square one. Coming into the 2009-10 season, I had to decide if this melodrama was worth all the suffering it was causing me emotionally. After a very long internal struggle, I decided that I would keep following the path with the Arizona team. If I was meant to do this, then I better keep at it (at least while I can still bear it.) I am a hockey fan first and foremost. I can’t live without it, and no matter what, I will end up on crazy road trips to see one team or another. So, my team might as well be the team with my own personal legend attached to it. Like I said, if I’m supposed to do this, then I better just do it. As Gretzky said, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” (HA! Totally lame, but I said it anyway!)

To lighten the mood, the top photo is my first picture from the 2009-10 NHL season. The eve before Flyers@Leafs. I never got a picture of the Alps while I was in Switzerland, so here is my attempt to fool you with my fox-like abilities. Small things amuse me.

Wednesday, September 16th, 2009

And so resume my hockey anxiety dreams.


My aunt used to tell me that nightmares about missing a university exam would haunt me for the rest of my life. Truthfully, I never had those. I’m not “normal,” after all. Instead, I have terrifying dreams about being late for, or completely missing, hockey games. There is nothing scarier to a hockey fan than to arrive at the top of his or her section and look down at the ice and discover that the puck is already in play; to know that precious moments of the game were missed sitting in traffic or standing in line for a beer. It’s definitely one of the worst feelings in the world, and it frequently haunts my dreams. The good news is that once the hockey anxiety dreams kick in, it’s a sure sign that the hockey season must be right around the corner. Last weekend, I had my first hockey nightmare of the 2009-10 season. It went a little something like this.

My new baby (car) was parked outside of this very large, mansiony house. The unsettling thing is that a few days later I found myself parked in front of this very house, yet I had never seen the house before. I loaded my stuff in the trunk and got in the driver’s seat to take off. I maybe drove two feet before my car was attacked by a barrage of women in dresses. It was the wives. The beasts. I’m not sure which team they belonged to, but they were unmistakably hockey wives. They surrounded my car and told me that I could not leave until I helped them with their outfits. I rolled my eyes at them, but got out of the car, locked it, and stomped back into the house.

After a few moments, I was able to escape the wretched creatures. I dashed out of the house only to see that my car was no longer on the street. It had been stolen. Naturally, my first thought was not, “Oh @#$%! Someone stole my car!” It was, “Oh @#$%! How the @#$% am I supposed to get to Pittsburgh now?!” (Pittsburgh is my first regular season hockey destination this year.) I was in a panic, but I tried to remain calm. I ran back into the bordello of hockey wives, and frantically contacted Globali, the alleged tracking system that I have in the car in the event of its theft. All they could tell me was that my car was still in the country, but every time I asked what could be done to retrieve it, the operator either gave me a sketchy ambiguous reply, or dead silence. There was definitely a conspiracy afoot.

I set off on a quest to Globali to use brute force against them until they retrieved my car! I only had a matter of days before the Coyotes and the Penguins were set to face off at Mellon Arena – the clock was ticking. Globali was set in the back of this wooded park. I see this park in a lot of my “quest” dreams, yet, as far as I know, it’s not a real place. Anyway, I found the Globali cabin, and started barking orders at the woman working inside.

She went to check on the location of the car on an old school looking computer. She turned back from the screen with a strange look in her eye, and that same sketchy response that the others had given me on the phone. My blood was really starting to boil, so I had to put on my best bad cop routine, and get up in her face as menacingly as possible and demand that she tell me where the car was. Suddenly, I heard a voice whispering to her from the computer screen telling her that she was not permitted to tell me where the car was…or else.

It was the Christmas Carol version of Mickey Mouse who was controlling the minds of the Globali workers. It was suddenly clear that keeping me from hockey was a large scale Disney Corporation evil conspiracy. Were the Ducks behind this? (Yes, I’m aware Disney sold the team four years ago). I was suddenly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the situation, and, out of frustration, attempted to snap the Globali woman out of it by hurling a deck of tarot cards at her head. I am disturbed by the loaded symbolism attached to this weapon of choice. Anyway, I hit her square in the forehead (they didn’t call me the Bionic Arm in junior A for nothing!), but it was no use.

The rest of the dream was a whirlwind of dizzying frustration, silent screams, and panic over what was to become of me and hockey. I was still distressed when I woke up, so I ran to the front door, and looked out the window to see if my car was still in the driveway. It was, but there are still a few weeks before I leave for Pittsburgh – anything can happen.

P.S. If there are any psychiatrists out there making an assessment of my mental health based on this dream, then I should remind you that my blog is called Psycho Lady. Consider that your disclaimer.

Monday, September 14th, 2009

Top 10 Tuesday: Wicked hockey stuff.

Today’s Top 10 list compiles an assortment of random, neat hockey related things that you may or may not have known existed (unless, of course, you follow me on Twitter). #1 is obviously my favourite! I don’t feel so bad about missing Chippendales in Vegas during the NHL Awards Week anymore *tee hee.* Special thanks to the hardcore ‘Yotes fan who showed it to me! ;o)

10. Hockey Tarot Cards


For all the hockey mediums out there. I am assuming this is the Seven of Wands.

9. Wedding Favours


Hockey and I gave these out at our wedding. I’m only kidding, of course. Hockey and I didn’t have a proper wedding. We had a quick and dirty exchange of vows at a chapel in old Las Vegas.

8. Shatter Puck Car Decal


I saw this on a car once during one of my hockey adventures and I thought it was sweet. Also available in team pucks, but they aren’t as nice.

7. Camouflage Jersey


Lurking in the bushes behind the practice facility has never been easier! Check out more crazy jerseys at BradHall.com

6. Flyers Fuzzy Dice


Fuzzy dice are the best and most tackilicious way to assert one’s hockey allegiance. Check out, Fuzzy Dice: A speed demon’s best friend, to read about how my Flyers dice saved me from a speeding ticket in New York. Be careful driving through enemy territory with these, though. I nearly got shot in New Jersey for having them in my car!

5. Shooting From The Lip: Hockey’s Best Quotes and Quips (Chris McDonell)


Not gonna lie, I own this book. Best Line: Every time I see you naked, I feel sorry for your wife! – Jaromir Jagr to Matt Barnaby

4. Nike Goalie Commercial Series

The greatest hockey commercials ever made. This is my favourite installment from Nike’s old hockey series! “Are you Swedish, sir?”

3. Tuxedo Jersey


This jersey says like, “I want to be formal, but I also like to party.” I like to party, so I like my jersey to party. Check out more crazy jerseys at BradHall.com

2. The Hockey Sweater (Roch Carrier)


The greatest book and short film of all time. Carrier captures the raw essence of our game like no other hockey writer before him or after. You can watch the entire classic Canadian Film Board adaptation here (renamed,The Sweater).

1. Rare Footage of Coyotes Players Trying to Raise Money for the Financially Struggling Organization.

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My new favourite thing! For the record, I did not make this video, but I would pay GOOD money to see it live. Just something to consider if the Coyotes need a get rich quick scheme. P.S. Sometimes I squeal when I watch this.

Friday, September 4th, 2009

Dawn Approaches: Marriage counseling & other updates.


It’s hard to believe that the twilight of the offseason is almost over, and preseason puck is only days away! I don’t know about you, but it still feels like August to me! Alas, hockey and I have been having some problems with our marriage, and the 2009-10 season is expected to be a very difficult one for us.

Last season, our relationship took a devastating turn in the final stretch. Perhaps there were too many games both on and off the ice, but careless words and empty ultimatums were thrown around in the heat of the moment. Like any wife, I feel that hockey takes me for granted sometimes. He’s forgotten that my support is not some unwavering and unconditional thing. He seems to think that I’ll just be there for him no matter what he does or no matter how it puts me out. He doesn’t appreciate the effort on my part, like turning my life upside down, or dropping everything to fly to Anaheim and beyond.

I spent the greater part of the offseason trying to work through our problems. Naturally, this was mostly a one-sided effort on my part. Hockey liked things the way they were. He didn’t want to have to pick up the phone or get on his knees and plant tulips…er…beg me to stay. No, hockey is satisfied in knowing that I’ll be rinkside until death do us part.

Of course, this made things difficult in terms of planning out the 09-10 season. Nevertheless, I’ve decided to stay the course with Phoenix for my first two regular season games this year in Pittsburgh (October 7th) and Buffalo (October 8th), after that it will all depend on how unpleasant those games were. However, after hearing about the Taylor Pyatt signing in the desert, I am more enthusiastic about this decision! My body temperature actually rose 3oF when I read the news! Hopefully, Gretzky keeps him off the Lombardi line because I might faint from too much man if they are together. Tell the Mellon Arena staff to keep a paramedic on hand for me just in case!

Anyway, team selection is not the only potential obstacle threatening our marriage this season. It is looking more and more likely that I will be moving to Kamloops, British Columbia at some point early on in the season. This move will put a definite strain on my marriage. I’ll be moving from the hub of hockey, to a place where the closest NHL team is three hours away, and the second closest is seven! It’s a good thing I anticipated the switch to Phoenix at Christmas and made sure I had those Aeroplan cards set up! Guess I’ll be brushing up on the WHL while I’m there. Either way, the uncertainty of my home base is making our relationship rocky right now, even if I do decide to stay here in the long run for whatever reason like, I don’t know, an NHL team in Hamilton!

Now on to other things…

Welcome, Sweden!


The Psycho Lady Hockey universe has expanded again, and I’ve noticed that I’ve developed quite a strong and regular readership in Sweden! I’ve even found write ups in Swedish that I had to run through the old FreeTranslation.com in order to understand. So, I’d just like to take a moment to formally welcome my new readers from across the Atlantic! I guess I’m going to have to start reading up on the Swedish Elite League.

Confessions of a Hockey Addict Through the Worst Photography You’ve Ever Seen [08-09 Edition]

I’ve been feeling like a slacker lately since most of my recent entries have been lists and photo albums! It’s the offseason, so what can you do! Anyway, if you’ve been waiting with bated breath for the 08-09 edition, then fear not, it is on its way. I am currently waiting on some pictures taken at the infamous Pittsburgh game last season. These pictures have not seen the light of day, as they were from such a mess of an evening. Currently, they are still on my friend’s camera which is buried in a moving box in London, ON. As soon as she gets them to me, I’ll post the final installment (until next summer). That is, of course, only if the pictures are appropriate! Perhaps, I should recite the “morning after” conversation to remind you of what happened that night.

Me: OK *notices headache,*this is what I don’t remember. I don’t remember paying at the bar, and I don’t remember going to sleep.
Friend: Well after you started giving [Pittsburgh Penguin] shit for having a teenstache…
Me: I didn’t say that to his face!
Friend: Oh, yes, you did. You should have seen the look on his face *imitates look on his face.* Then Britney Spears paid at the bar, and we went on one of the tour buses.
Me: Oh yeah, I remember the bus.
Friend: Yes, then we came back here. One minute you were sitting on the chair, the next minute I look over and you were on the floor.
Me: Are you kidding me?
Friend: Oh no. I had to fireman pull you into bed and put your pajamas on.
Me: *notices missing bra*
Friend: Yup, your boobs were everywhere.

For the record, I had just flown in from Anaheim and I was still traumatized from the experience! I don’t drink normally, and apparently have no tolerance for it LOL. Until next time…keep your stick on the ice!

Thursday, August 6th, 2009

The Phoenix saga continues…


The Coyotes situation has exploded again and I’ve decided to weigh in simply because I wanted to post this sweet cartoon a die-hard Yotes fan sent me! So, rumour around the proverbial water cooler is that Balsillie’s $212.5M bid to purchase the Phoenix Coyotes will now be considered at the team’s auction on September 10th along with other bidders both for and against relocation.

OK, for the purpose of this entry, let’s assume that Balsillie’s bid is accepted, and that his legal team is able to override the NHL’s recent vote against his suitability as an owner on the grounds that they have approved of him as such back in 2006. Let’s assume that a suitable owner cannot be found to both appease creditors and keep the team in Arizona. Let’s assume that relocation to Hamilton is the probable outcome of the Coyotes’ saga. Suddenly, $212.5M looks like chump change.

Earlier on in the court drama that is the future of the desert dogs, Bettman made a public statement that Balsillie’s bid is not as much as it seems. Well, he’s right. What do you think would happen if a billionaire business mogul waltzed into the Air Canada Centre and announced that he was buying the Toronto Maple Leafs for *Dr. Evil voice,* ”Two hundred and twelve MIIIIIIIIILLION dollars mwahahhahaha!!” Well, after MLSE staff and executives regained their composure from guaranteed hysterical laughter, the likely outcome would involve Richard Peddie grabbing his trusted two barrel shotgun and yelling, “Git outta maaaa office!”

The Toronto Maple Leafs are the money makers of the National Hockey League. It is suggested that an NHL club located thirty minutes west of the ACC would pull in similar financial figures, which means that the Hamilton Coyotes have the potential to clear between $400M and $600M a season. A team with that kind of value will not go for a steal – and $212.5M is a blow out sale!

If relocation is a real possibility, then potential buyers willing to move the team to the open arms of Copps Coliseum will have to view the price of the Coyotes as a team with southern Ontario value instead of small scale sunbelt earning potential. Likely this fact will bring previously uninterested buyer groups out of the woodwork, and an all out bidding war will ensue on September 10th. Fortunately, for Jim Balsillie, if anyone is in the position to up the ante, it’s him. However, Balsillie didn’t get nauseatingly rich by investing in projects he was unsure of. He has already proven in the past that he doesn’t want to get locked into a possible money losing venture. According to the Canadian TV show, Power Play (a show revolving around the dealings of a mock NHL team, the Hamilton Steelheads), Hamilton is a small hockey market. Not sure what the writers of that show were on, but perhaps, as history suggests, Jim Balsillie will be cautious about raising his bid should it come to that.

Here’s to what promises to be an entertaining September.

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