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Tag: oshawa generals

Saturday, December 31st, 2011

The OHL Comeback: And then the Kingston mascot molested me…

Kingston, ON I woke up on Friday morning with nothing to do, and, to me, that was outrageous. I only have a guaranteed two weeks of North American hockey to look forward to this season, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make the most of it. So, I decided to get my ass out to an uncharted OHL rink, which meant, as you may have guessed, that I did not have time to do anything other than throw on some clothes, grab my overnight bag (that was luckily still loaded with unused Pittsburgh stuff), and run out the front door like a grotesque and unshowered bat out of Hell.

Hours and hours and hours later, I pulled into Kingston. The traffic all the way down the 401 was brutal, and I have absolutely no idea why! I think there was some severe rubbernecking going on. Unfortunately for the patrons of the K-Rock Centre that night, namely the quiet old man sitting next to me who yelled, “Shit” periodically throughout the game, I didn’t have any time to get cleaned up before heading to the rink as you can tell from my game day shot. Sorry!

The temperature was well into the negative that night, and Kingston had turned into a virtual skating rink. I had to glide all the way to the arena at the pace of a speed skater to avoid losing some of my extremities to the cold. I sought shelter in the first deserted entrance I saw to wait for the gates to open. An usher with a strangely familiar face was pacing around the doorway. I couldn’t shake the fact that I knew him from somewhere. Finally, after racking my brain for the 15 minutes prior to the doors opening, I handed him my ticket and asked, “You didn’t happen to work for Maple Leaf Sports, did you?” Sure enough he WAS one of my old work colleagues from waaaay back in my MLSE days. We weren’t in the same department, and he had facial hair now, which explains why I struggled to place him with confidence at first.

Yeah… Pick up those pucks!

We spent the entirety of the second period shooting the shit, which was fine because neither the Frontenacs nor the Generals scored a single goal in the period, so I didn’t miss anything other than some young boys skating around with a dangerous amount of facial hair for their own good. Anyway, he told me several interesting legends from his time working with the Leafs. Back during the 2003 playoffs he set the ice at the Air Canada Centre with two lucky pennies. One penny was dated 1967 and the other was 2003. He hid each penny under the goal posts in the Leafs zone. For each of the three games hosted in Toronto, NO ONE scored on that net. Now that’s not to say Toronto was never scored upon, just that no one was able to score on that end of the ice. Unfortunately, management found out about the pennies, and made him take them out. He also noted that since he stopped doing the ice at the Air Canada Centre, the Leafs haven’t made the postseason. Interesting… and here’s hoping that his curse is finally lifted this year!

While we were swapping stories, the Fronts mascot, Henry, interrupted us by rubbing my back in a manner that can only be described as somewhere in the realm of post-coital sensuality. I have quite the storied history with mascots doing bizarre things to me. Most notably Griff in Grand Rapids (AHL). He used to attack me ALL the time; every time I went to Van Andel Arena, or if he showed up at another rink that I was also at. He’d always BITE me, or just lurk in my general vicinity with his menacing presence. Then there was Tex in KItchener (OHL) who was most famous for messing up my hair, and that damn Phlex in Philadelphia (AHL) who thought he was better than me! Actually, the most disturbing mascot of all wasn’t even a hockey mascot. Back during one of the Halloween Haunts at Canada’s Wonderland, one of the monsters kept following me around saying, “Yeaaahhh, let’s make a baby.” What I found most uncomfortable about that whole incident, as well as with my Henry encounter, was that the mascot was shorter than me. I don’t know. There’s just something severely off-putting about shortness in mascots.

Despite a loss for the home team, and the fact that the arena poutine made me feel sick (don’t freak out or anything. I think the problem was not the poutine itself, but rather the fact that I crushed not one, but TWO A&W Papa Burgers prior to the game…don’t judge me!), it was an overall great experience to finally get down to the “controversial” K-Rock Centre. Kingston has been #1 on my OHL hit list for a couple seasons now, so it’s a great feeling to finally add this one to my repertoire of episodes of hockey related insanity. Sadly, according to the people of Kingston, the K-Rock Centre raised a lot of eyebrows when it was being built – something to do with the fact that the mayor owns the land that it’s built on. Anyway, the bottom line is that a lot of hockey fans in Kingston refused to support the Fronts as a means of protest against the whole scandal. Hmm makes me wonder if the 67’s and Bulls had a spike in ticket sales since the new rink was built. You really have to feel for the kids in all of this, though. It must be tough to play in front of an empty barn at such and impressionable (and vulnerable) age.

And now I leave you with a rare photo of former Frontenac, Mike Zigomanis, with his pants ON! Sean Avery is also pictured.

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Saturday, April 16th, 2011

It Was On: Why the the second half of the Niagara/Oshawa series made my whole life.

St. Catharines and Oshawa, ON The Niagara IceDogs were back to their winning ways in Game 3, and, well, in every other remaining game in their five-game series against the Oshawa Generals. This victory was bittersweet for me, as it was one Tim Billingsley’s last game of his ten-game suspension, and therefore, the last game I was able to stroke his mighty……playoff beard, of course. Yes, I’m a creeper (he should probably be worried, just like Tim Brent), but show me a better facial bouquet of manliness, and I’ll quickly jump ship. Yeah, that’s what I thought, Tyler Kennedy.

Game 4, back in Oshawa, was special. Kat came in from Ottawa for the game, so there was much terrible poutine and chicken wings to be had. You might remember her from my first visit to Urbandale Centre last season to see the 67’s play on home ice. They faced off against Thebradboyes’s former Erie Otters that night. I thought I’d just throw that in there because I had opted to wear my sparkly Flyers shirt to the game in the ‘Shaw in honour of the Sabres/Flyers first round match up. It was a tough decision picking a side for this NHL series. On the one hand I have my former babies, the Flyers, and on the other hand I have Thebradboyes – my first ever hockey crush. Tough call – had to take it upstairs. Part of me was hoping to make up for missing the Broad Street boys’ run to the Cup Final last season due to my unfortunate decision to move to Korea. We’ll have to see about that. The Sabres are just so hot right now.

The IceDogs fans were unhappy with my ensemble, however. I should have known they’d all be Sabres fans if not purely for geographical reasons. I took the most heat for wearing my Philly shirt to that game than I ever have in my entire life, and that includes wearing it in enemy NHL barns like Toronto, Ottawa, Buffalo, and Montreal to name a few.

Yes, the fans had plenty to say that night, but the Gens fans were the saddest ones of all. All around me I could hear disheartened fans, some bearing Hummer jerseys, moaning about how they had just seen their team play for the last time, and, of course, they were right. The IceDogs wrapped up the series during Game Five, which will give them enough time to rest up and prepare to face off against the terrifying Majors led by Coach DILF, Dave Cameron, in the OHL Eastern Conference Finals. Leopard print booty shorts will be washed and ready to go for Game 1. Obviously. It’s crucial to get that first W.

So why did the second round series between the Dogs and the Gens make my whole life? Well… I heard some things after one of the games that I never would have guessed in a million years. New details on my loss of virginity story came to light. Quiet, you love it, and I love talking about it (like Marc Methot’s backside). Anyway, as you know, Mr. One-Timer took a vow of silence for three months after the no-star performance, as I call it. After he decided to break the silence, and tried and failed to win my affection for a second time, he became even more of a dick than he was when he was avoiding me. He started telling me horrible things about why things went down the way they did; namely, that I was inadequate physically, and he had actually wanted it to play out the way that it did. Yeah, to look back on in it now, it sounds like bullshit, and part of me wanted to believe that it was. But I pride myself on not being one of those girls that “read into everything.” I try to be logical with boy drama, and assume that whatever a guy says, he actually means – unless it’s an obvious line to get some overtime! So, back then, I believed him, and I carried that with me for five years until we eventually worked things out. The ensuing events resulted in, well, four years of celibacy, actually.

After one of the IceDogs games in this round, I met someone who just happened to be tight with a lot of the Kitchener Rangers in that dramatic era. He also just happened to be especially close with Mr. One-Timer himself. He started telling stories about some of the ridiculous things the two of them got up to back in the day, and being the kind of girl I am, volunteered the information that I had, in fact, been deflowered by him. I took a moderate amount of heat, obviously deserved, but when I said, “Whatever. It was New Years Eve,” the expression on his face completely changed into quite the little smirk.

“Whoa… Wait a minute. New Years Eve? In ’02?”

Naturally, I’m about to shit my pants over this, and I’m sure my face turned bright red because I could only imagine what terrible things this guy had said about me, given the terrible things he had said to me all those years ago. Finally, I was ready to man-up and face the music, and demanded to know all that he knew on the matter. Yes, I threw an after dinner mint at him in the process of all of this. But the story was not even in the same ballpark as where my fearful and hugely embarrassed mind had set up shop.

A few weeks after that memorable New Years Eve, the two of them were hanging out at a bar or party as they usually did trolling for fresh trim. Strangely, One-Timer was unsatisfied with all the girls in the place, and wanted to leave. The storyteller thought this was odd for the One-Timer, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t remember this insignificant incident more than eight years after the fact, so he started to question the cause of this sudden elevation in standards. One-Timer then explained that none of the girls came close to who he was with on New Years Eve, and left it that. “New Years… it was on.” Awww… that’s kind of cute, and I can guarantee you that’s the only time a guy has ever said anything like that about me LOL. I wonder how long his newfound standards lasted? Not long I would imagine – it’s Kitchener, after all. Even though I’ve been over it for a very long time, it’s still nice to finally hear the truth even if it’s almost a decade overdue. Yeah… it’s emotional.

Top Photo: Kat and I at Game 4 in Oshawa. So shiny! Wish I had Photoshop, and knew how to use Photoshop.

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Monday, April 11th, 2011

The 4-Some: The fall of the booty shorts!

St. Catharines, Toronto, Oshawa, ON Wow… Look at me making a road blog mid series. I’m starting to get the hang of this again! Take that, Korea! P.S. Writing on a Mac is not only a pain in the ass, but it’s also frightening! I grow more and more terrified with each and every sentence I type! Anyway, Thursday the second round of the OHL playoffs began. My newly adopted love children, the Niagara IceDogs, were set to face off against the big, bad, Oshawa Generals. You might remember the Oshawa Generals from my first ever trip to see the IceDogs play last season in that epic game where the barn had a massive power outage. You’d probably also remember the picture I took of the equally epic sign that two ‘Shaw based pucks had MacGyvered prior to face off, “I want a Gen in my underwear.” But let’s not dwell on the past…

Niagara quickly made away with the Gens in Game 1, which required me to hunt the Oshawa fan bus down on my way home and harass them with horns blasting and “rally towels” flying out the passenger side window. Not unlike the Charlestown Chiefs’ booster club, but, you know, way more menacing. It should also be noted that Blackstreet’s No Diggity was featured on the iPod to adequately set the mood for these unsavoury shenanigans.

However, the good times wouldn’t last, and the Generals came back with a vengeance in Game 2. I had a bad feeling about that game. All during the first round, I limited myself to wearing lucky booty shorts to each and every game. Obviously, I wash my underwear! They are considered lucky if I, you know, got lucky in them. Come on, we all have a pair of go-to panties, ladies! My game winners just happened to be leopard print! Anyway, like a good girl I wore my leopard booty shorts to Game 1, but for Game 2 I brought in a questionable pair. See, this particular pair of booty shorts is only lucky depending on how I tell the story, and what details I neglect to mention while telling it. I had a bad feeling about Game 2 because of my undergarment selection, and sure enough the IceDogs fell 6-4 to Oshawa with a little help from the refs as well.

The game wasn’t a total loss, though. The highlight for me was molesting Tim Billingsley’s playoff beard. No facial hair binoculars needed with this one! He’s the Scott Niedermayer of OHL playoff beards, and a 2008 pick of the Phoenix Coyotes – no big deal. Lucky for me, he’s been serving a ten game suspension, so I’ve been able to monitor his growth on a game by game basis. I’m just so proud! Whatever will I do when he returns to action in Game 4?! The other highlight of the game was when I came across a couple wearing Gens jersey, both bearing the number 69, and the name Hummer. OK… Yes, this is funny, but this is a junior hockey environment; meaning the majority of people in the stands are kids and grandmas! Think of the children! “Grandma… look at his shirt! I want it! I WANT IT! I WANT A HUMMER, GRANDMA! GIMME A HUMMER!”

The other two games in my four-some weekend were both Marlies games, so, you know, minor league. The first game was the same day as Game 2 in Oshawa, so I felt like a hot shot pulling a double header like a Canadian bad ass. Sadly, some other IceDogs fans were also at Ricoh to show me up! They were also pulling the double header like it was no big deal! Phhh! The Marlies had a strong finish to their season, closing out the weekend with 6-5 and 6-0 victories over Rochester and Abbotsford respectively.

I also developed a rather serious infatuation with Selleck of the Rochester Americans. The dance began during the warm ups where the cockiness of his glide, and the spikiness of his mohawk induced legitimate tingling downtown. I find skating hot, I don’t know why, and I can’t help it! I could never get involved with a player that can’t skate! I’m sorry, but good skating is a prerequisite. I have an eye for talent, you know! Anyway, Mr. Selleck skates like some sort of sea monster on the prowl. Trust me it’s spicy! I could barely stand it.

Another random fact: I had a run in with Tim Brent at Ricoh Coliseum. History repeats itself it seems. I used to run into him at Leafs games all the time back when he played for St. Mike’s… many years ago. When we were both young. *Heavy sigh*

My friend also informed me that the Rogers cameramen were using my rack as the focal point to “refocus” the cameras throughout the game. I guess the girls were pretty out there during the Saturday game. I feel violated. Luckily, the Marlies season ended on Sunday, so I won’t have to worry about being exploited until October. I am pretty sad that both the Leafs and the Marlies didn’t make the postseason this year, but on the bright side, I have two tickets for the upcoming Jays/Yankees series, so I feel pretty good about that.

Top Photo: The only pic I took all weekend. Tim Billingsley’s playoff beard as of Round 2, Game 2. Bow down before its greatness. Take it, Sidney Crosby!

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