As big of a hockey nut I am, I don't really get into collecting memorabilia. I've a few t-shirts from the Pens Stanley Cup and the back to back Eastern Conference championships but really not much else. No City of Champions cereal or Bud Light cans for me. I mean, a Penguins Snuggie? Really?
What does get my collecting juices flowing are hockey jerseys. I love them and if I was a gazillionaire, I'd have a whole room dedicated to nothing but hockey jerseys. I have a very modest five jersey collection now. I have the obligatory Crosby jersey plus a Gonchar, a 1995-96 Jagr diagonal road jersey and my new Sunday gold Lemieux jersey. My coup de grace is a 1990-91 home jersey signed in the summer of '91 by Mark Recchi and Mike Lange. It's starting to show its age but I think its headed for a nice jersey frame.
Whenever funds allow, i.e. when I graduate and find a real job, I'd like to get the following jerseys:
Teemu Selanne-Winnepeg Jets. Oh man would this be cool. Selanne is one of my favorite non-Penguins and I remember his rookie year when he scored 76 goals.
Alex Kovalev-Penguins. It doesn't really matter which style. I've always liked Kovy, especially when he feels like playing.
1977-78 Jean Pronovost-Penguins. He is my favorite pre-Lemieux Penguin and this was the year he was captain.
Brendan Shanahan, either Hartford Whalers or St. Louis Blues. I've always loved Shany but aside from these two teams, he's always played on rivals.
Dino Ciccarelli-Minnesota North Stars. Say what you want about Dino, he played hard and has 1,200 points to show for it. Same thing with Shany, he either played for rivals or teams whose jersey I don't want to own.
Peter Stastny-Quebec Nordiques. I've always liked the Nordiques road jerseys and Stastny is easily my favorite Nordique. I have his Old Time Hockey NHL Alumni t-shirt. It's sweet and better than Barclay Plager's. Bum.
Luc Robitaille-Penguins. Lucky Luc is one of my favorite players and his 58 games in a penguin uniform were not enough. His OT winner against the Caps was epic.
Phil Esposito-Boston Bruins. Espo rules.
Eddie Johnston-Boston Bruins. Oh, come on. If you don't think would be cool, there is no hope for you at all.
I am sure I will think of others, like a Gilles Meloche Oakland Seals, and I may never own these jerseys but a man can dream can't he?
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Long Onerous Misery of Winter
I enter the long, arduous winter minus a motorcycle and plus a million ideas for the one I've retained.
Yes, the sad $300 motorcycle (aka '82 Seca 650) has been sold. I got it to run, briefly, and was on my way to restoring the bike but I found myself burdened with schoolwork and too many other things so I sold the most expendable project I had: the Seca. All it was doing was sitting anyway. I liked that bike and was sad to see it go but I had no time to work on it and all it was doing was taking up space and making me spend money on it.
With my new-found funds, I did the mature, responsible thing and bought stuff for my Bonneville. I first picked up a set of EPCO stainless steel mufflers (or silencers, since the Bonnie is British) and I also chucked my intake snorkel. I've wanted to do this for a while now but I was either putting money into the Seca or the Corvette and wasn't able to put money into the Bonnie as well.
I haven't been able to ride the Bonnie with my new pipes on it because of weather but it did sound good in my garage and I get to play with more carbs.
Santa brought me a Triumph accessory chrome chain guard (and a sweet Sunday gold Mario Lemieux jersey) to brighten up the rear. And, since my Bonnie is an early production '08, I've ordered the classic garden-gate badge kit to rid my gas tank of those horrid chrome plastic montrosities. If I had to pick one thing I dislike about the '08 and up Triumph Modern Classics, it would be those god-awful badges. Nothing says "we're cutting corners" like a fake, chromed plastic badge. I hate 'em!
I'm not going to go crazy and ruin my Bonneville, I just to make mine. I guess, you could say, I just want to go my own way...
Yes, the sad $300 motorcycle (aka '82 Seca 650) has been sold. I got it to run, briefly, and was on my way to restoring the bike but I found myself burdened with schoolwork and too many other things so I sold the most expendable project I had: the Seca. All it was doing was sitting anyway. I liked that bike and was sad to see it go but I had no time to work on it and all it was doing was taking up space and making me spend money on it.
With my new-found funds, I did the mature, responsible thing and bought stuff for my Bonneville. I first picked up a set of EPCO stainless steel mufflers (or silencers, since the Bonnie is British) and I also chucked my intake snorkel. I've wanted to do this for a while now but I was either putting money into the Seca or the Corvette and wasn't able to put money into the Bonnie as well.
I haven't been able to ride the Bonnie with my new pipes on it because of weather but it did sound good in my garage and I get to play with more carbs.
Santa brought me a Triumph accessory chrome chain guard (and a sweet Sunday gold Mario Lemieux jersey) to brighten up the rear. And, since my Bonnie is an early production '08, I've ordered the classic garden-gate badge kit to rid my gas tank of those horrid chrome plastic montrosities. If I had to pick one thing I dislike about the '08 and up Triumph Modern Classics, it would be those god-awful badges. Nothing says "we're cutting corners" like a fake, chromed plastic badge. I hate 'em!
I'm not going to go crazy and ruin my Bonneville, I just to make mine. I guess, you could say, I just want to go my own way...
Sunday, August 30, 2009
GT5 Prologue: Epic Letdown.
After a few years of staring at the amazing stills from GT5: Prologue and experiencing feelings of lust, I found a cheap, used PS3 and bought it and the game.
Maybe my expectations were too high, but the makers of Prologue have a long way to go before GT5 will be ready.
The car list isn't bad, though it is a bit small. The cars are mostly hold overs from GT4. A few new cars appearing in the game are the C6 Corvette Z06, Audi R8, Citroen C4 Coupe, Ford Focus ST, Nissan GTR, Suzuki Swift Sport, Mitsubishi Evo X and the new Subaru Impreza STI.
The coup de grace is, finally, the inclusion of Ferrari. It's amazing how the best driving simulator has gone this long without Ferrari, Porsche(Ruf's don't count) or Lamborghini in the games.
Prologue features five Ferrari's, the F430, 599, F2007(Formula One), F40 and 512BB. I will admit the F40 and the 512BB were the reason I bought this game. The chance to , virtually, drive two of my favorite cars, two of my favorites since childhood, was too much to resist anymore.
The game is visually stunning. The cars definitely look real, especially in the replays. There is also absolutely zero pixelation in any oif the graphics. All of the circles are round, not squarely circular, and it really does look like the real thing.
The interior car view is spectacular. Finally someone put an actual interior view, instead of passing off a view without any details of the car and a speedo and tach as the "interior view." The interiors are replicated with stunning detail. The tach and speedo operate in realistic fashion and the driver shifts when you do, though he does shift after you select the next gear.
Where it all goes wrong is in the controls.
The game seems to have been designed with a steering wheel in mind. I don't have a wheel so therefore I am stuck with the controller and it is frustrating.
Button sensitivity for acceleration and braking is virtually non-existent. Barely touching the accelerator slams the pedal to the floor. This is very aggravating mid-corner when you are trying to adjust your line.
The brakes are the same way. Need to lightly touch the brakes? Nope. Too bad. I never had this problem with GT4.
While the accelerating and braking is very annoying, the steering may make you kill.
It is so unresponsive and slow, it feels like you are driving an old tractor. Quickly, name another racing game. Yes, that game has better steering. It's just so woefully bad I can't describe it without going into a long, expletive-laden rant. It ruins the whole game. It flat-out ruins it.
There is a small bar gauge in the corner of the screen that illustrates the amount of steering input you are applying and for some reason, when I max the joystick in either direction, I only use 3/4 of the gauge. Why?
Also included in the faults sections is the notorious Gran Turismo understeer and the complete lack of tire tracks left on the road surface when you actually do break traction. And the tire squealing noise is still bad and so is the "tire smoke." It's been bad since GT1.
The amount of concentration needed to overcome these vexatacious faults is taxing. It saps all fun that could be had by the game.
Again, maybe I was expecting too much. All I really was expecting was GT4, which was brilliant, with more cars and better graphics. All I got was a slow-steering, unresponsive pile that needs major work. Basically, I bought a 70's Buick with some Ferrari's in it.
Yay.
Maybe my expectations were too high, but the makers of Prologue have a long way to go before GT5 will be ready.
The car list isn't bad, though it is a bit small. The cars are mostly hold overs from GT4. A few new cars appearing in the game are the C6 Corvette Z06, Audi R8, Citroen C4 Coupe, Ford Focus ST, Nissan GTR, Suzuki Swift Sport, Mitsubishi Evo X and the new Subaru Impreza STI.
The coup de grace is, finally, the inclusion of Ferrari. It's amazing how the best driving simulator has gone this long without Ferrari, Porsche(Ruf's don't count) or Lamborghini in the games.
Prologue features five Ferrari's, the F430, 599, F2007(Formula One), F40 and 512BB. I will admit the F40 and the 512BB were the reason I bought this game. The chance to , virtually, drive two of my favorite cars, two of my favorites since childhood, was too much to resist anymore.
The game is visually stunning. The cars definitely look real, especially in the replays. There is also absolutely zero pixelation in any oif the graphics. All of the circles are round, not squarely circular, and it really does look like the real thing.
The interior car view is spectacular. Finally someone put an actual interior view, instead of passing off a view without any details of the car and a speedo and tach as the "interior view." The interiors are replicated with stunning detail. The tach and speedo operate in realistic fashion and the driver shifts when you do, though he does shift after you select the next gear.
Where it all goes wrong is in the controls.
The game seems to have been designed with a steering wheel in mind. I don't have a wheel so therefore I am stuck with the controller and it is frustrating.
Button sensitivity for acceleration and braking is virtually non-existent. Barely touching the accelerator slams the pedal to the floor. This is very aggravating mid-corner when you are trying to adjust your line.
The brakes are the same way. Need to lightly touch the brakes? Nope. Too bad. I never had this problem with GT4.
While the accelerating and braking is very annoying, the steering may make you kill.
It is so unresponsive and slow, it feels like you are driving an old tractor. Quickly, name another racing game. Yes, that game has better steering. It's just so woefully bad I can't describe it without going into a long, expletive-laden rant. It ruins the whole game. It flat-out ruins it.
There is a small bar gauge in the corner of the screen that illustrates the amount of steering input you are applying and for some reason, when I max the joystick in either direction, I only use 3/4 of the gauge. Why?
Also included in the faults sections is the notorious Gran Turismo understeer and the complete lack of tire tracks left on the road surface when you actually do break traction. And the tire squealing noise is still bad and so is the "tire smoke." It's been bad since GT1.
The amount of concentration needed to overcome these vexatacious faults is taxing. It saps all fun that could be had by the game.
Again, maybe I was expecting too much. All I really was expecting was GT4, which was brilliant, with more cars and better graphics. All I got was a slow-steering, unresponsive pile that needs major work. Basically, I bought a 70's Buick with some Ferrari's in it.
Yay.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Ferrari 458 Italia.
Ferrari has leaked more pictures and videos of it's upcoming mid-engine, V8 458 Italia and I must say, I don't like it. It doesn't stop me in my tracks and leave my mouth agape like a Ferrari should. I bet if you take the Ferrari badge off, most people would agree. I would even say most people would never guess it's a Ferrari. It reminds me of the Ascari KZ1.
Truth be told, the last Ferrari's to get me excited were the F355 and the 550 Maranello. These were the last Ferrari's that looked like Ferrari's.
I like the F430, but not enough to buy one over a Porsche 911 Turbo. The 360 Modena is boring to look at, as is the 599 and the 612 Scaglietti.
In fact, I think I lost a lot of the love I had for Ferrari.
I blame it on the F1 gearbox, which debuted on the F355F1. It was at this point, I feel, that Ferrari lost their passion and immersed themselves in technology. Their cars lost their human soul and became sort of the Terminators of the car world. They look enough like a Ferrari but underneath, it's all electronics, and with no feeling or soul.
Another point was when Ferrari said the 360 was "shaped in a wind tunnel."
What?
A Ferrari should be drawn by hand, shaped by the imagination of the designer.
I find Ferrari's new highly technological direction kind of ironic as well. Supposedly, Ferrari engineers in the early sixties had a tough time selling Il Commendatore on the benefits of disc brakes and independent rear suspension.
It's truly a shame because my love for cars was deeply influenced by Ferrari during my childhood. I have die-cast F40's, F50's, Testarossa's, 288 GTO's, 365 GTB/4's and 512 BB's. I watched "Miami Vice" just for the white Testarossa with beige interior. I knew more about the F40 than most people knew about their own parents.
I could look at a 365GTB/4 Daytona all day and then all night. In fact, that particular model is my favorite Ferrari, closely followed by the 512BB.
There have been ugly Ferrari's in the past as well, such as the 400i, Mondial 8 or 365GTC, so an ugly car is not a new thing.
Ferrari's direction is what bothers me. They seem to be moving away from creating rolling art that you drove and toward creating a rolling techno-sled that you steer.
Truth be told, the last Ferrari's to get me excited were the F355 and the 550 Maranello. These were the last Ferrari's that looked like Ferrari's.
I like the F430, but not enough to buy one over a Porsche 911 Turbo. The 360 Modena is boring to look at, as is the 599 and the 612 Scaglietti.
In fact, I think I lost a lot of the love I had for Ferrari.
I blame it on the F1 gearbox, which debuted on the F355F1. It was at this point, I feel, that Ferrari lost their passion and immersed themselves in technology. Their cars lost their human soul and became sort of the Terminators of the car world. They look enough like a Ferrari but underneath, it's all electronics, and with no feeling or soul.
Another point was when Ferrari said the 360 was "shaped in a wind tunnel."
What?
A Ferrari should be drawn by hand, shaped by the imagination of the designer.
I find Ferrari's new highly technological direction kind of ironic as well. Supposedly, Ferrari engineers in the early sixties had a tough time selling Il Commendatore on the benefits of disc brakes and independent rear suspension.
It's truly a shame because my love for cars was deeply influenced by Ferrari during my childhood. I have die-cast F40's, F50's, Testarossa's, 288 GTO's, 365 GTB/4's and 512 BB's. I watched "Miami Vice" just for the white Testarossa with beige interior. I knew more about the F40 than most people knew about their own parents.
I could look at a 365GTB/4 Daytona all day and then all night. In fact, that particular model is my favorite Ferrari, closely followed by the 512BB.
There have been ugly Ferrari's in the past as well, such as the 400i, Mondial 8 or 365GTC, so an ugly car is not a new thing.
Ferrari's direction is what bothers me. They seem to be moving away from creating rolling art that you drove and toward creating a rolling techno-sled that you steer.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
My orange Corvette
Some of the best stories ever told belong to the old cars and motorcycles of the world. Any vehicle that's been around for 30, 40 or 50 years is going to have an interesting background.
In 1975, a friend of my grandfather bought a brand new orange flame Corvette. The car came with the base L-48 V8, automatic trans, deluxe medium saddle interior, factory air, and power windows, steering and brakes.
Less than a year after buying the car, he found himself in a messy divorce. In order to keep his soon-to-be ex-wife from getting the car, he sold it to my grandfather. The car had less than 4,000 miles on it when my grandfather picked it up. My grandfather kept the car until two years ago when he passed it on to me.
The strange part about this is that my grandfather really isn't a car guy. He used wipe off his Ford Tempo with paper towels after washing it. I think there was something about that car that he liked, car guy or not, that made him buy it and keep it for so long. He may be a car guy underneath, who knows. He did religiously maintain the car.
In 1975, a friend of my grandfather bought a brand new orange flame Corvette. The car came with the base L-48 V8, automatic trans, deluxe medium saddle interior, factory air, and power windows, steering and brakes.
Less than a year after buying the car, he found himself in a messy divorce. In order to keep his soon-to-be ex-wife from getting the car, he sold it to my grandfather. The car had less than 4,000 miles on it when my grandfather picked it up. My grandfather kept the car until two years ago when he passed it on to me.
The strange part about this is that my grandfather really isn't a car guy. He used wipe off his Ford Tempo with paper towels after washing it. I think there was something about that car that he liked, car guy or not, that made him buy it and keep it for so long. He may be a car guy underneath, who knows. He did religiously maintain the car.
When ownership was handed over to me, I received a 32-year-old, all-original car. All-original can be a good thing, a bad thing or both. In my case, it was both.
It's good because everything that was on the car in 1975 is still there, maintenance items like brakes and tires not withstanding. All of the gauges worked perfectly and so did the power windows. Plus it ran as good as a 32-year-old car that weighs 3,500 pounds with 165 horsepower (at one time) could.
It's bad because everything that was on the car in 1975 is still there. That means the urethane bumpers were splitting and close to falling off (the rear flapped in the wind), the steel wheels were a bit rusty, some of the chrome was pitted, the steering was scary loose and the rear leaf spring was sagging.
And the leaks.
Every fluid that could possibly find its way on to my garage floor did. Engine oil, power steering fluid, gas, trans fluid, coolant and differential fluid all left their signatures on my defenseless floor. It's a good thing I don't own an old British car or the EPA would condemn my house.
In the past two years I've fixed the majority of the problems and added some new ones. There was a point where it seemed every time I drove the car something broke, but it's pretty solid now. It leaves a few drops here and there but I can deal with those until I'm able to create more problems, um, I mean restore it.
I think the biggest change made in the past two years is my opinion of it. I thought of the car as an old dinosaur, an example of why cars from the mid-to-late 70's were terrible. Now, I can't help but find myself endeared by it.
I like the skinny steering wheel, the heavy steering, the four piston brakes at all four corners, the V8 torque, and the orange paint. I even like the styling, though it is a bit disco. I like all of the things that make Corvettes unique.
I do, however, wish it was a four-speed manual but I'll live. Besides, the TH-400 in the car is one of the best automatic transmissions GM ever made. That just means when I hit my mid-life crisis and decide to pro-street the car, I can reuse the transmission.
While this car has attached itself to my wallet like a parasite, I love it, warts and all. Everytime I get mad at it, I think to myself: "you could've inherited a Dodge Dart."
When you think of it that way, it's not so bad after all.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Stanley Cup is back in Pittsburgh!!
It was the best of time, it was the worst of times.
The 2008-09 Penguins season was marked by exhilarating highs and debilitating lows. But it seemed like whenever the forecast for the Pens looked its bleakest, the Pens began to shine.
According to critics and experts, this current season was doomed while Detroit was skating around the Mellon with the cup. The "runner up curse" had not been kind to the teams that lost in the Stanley Cup Finals and why would the Pens be any different.
During the summer, a flood of free agents left the Pens. Among them was star winger Marian Hossa, who bolted to Detroit to "win a cup." Defenseman Ryan Whitney had foot surgery and wasn't expected to return until late December at the earliest.
In the first pre-season game in Tampa, top D-man and powerplay quarterback Sergei Gonchar had his shoulder separated by a hit from David Koci. Gonchar opted for surgery but would out until march at the earliest.
How did the Penguins respond? By getting off to one the best starts in franchise history.
The exciting October and November months, during which the Pens won 7-6 in a thrilling overtime game against Detroit in Detroit, led to the dark depressing months of December and January.
The play was bad. The players were frustrated.
The powerplay went scoreless in 32 attempts. The Pens couldn't string three wins together, often going win-loss-win-loss. They lost to teams in the NHL's basement- 2-0 to Tampa, 6-2 to the Maple Leafs. They fell from second in the conference to tenth and out of the playoffs.
Star goalie Marc-Andre Fleury was injured. Star center and captain Sidney Crosby was injured.
The return of Ryan Whitney did little to stop the bleeding.
A players-only meeting was held to see if they could fix what was broken.
They couldn't.
It seemed like every time the Pens would gain an inch, they'd slid down four inches.
Early Feburary saw the return of Sergei Gonchar. The struggling powerplay looked worlds better with Gonchar at the controls, but was still nothing to write home about.
On February 15, the coach that lead them to the finals the year before, Michel Therrien, was replaced by the coach of the Wilkes/Barre-Scranton Penguins, Dan Bylsma. Bylsma, who was 38 games into his first season as a head coach, took over a team in tenth place and five points out of the playoffs.
Once again the season was written off.
The Pens responded by losing in a shootout to the Islanders in the first game under the new head coach.
After this loss, however, the Pens would lose only three more times in regulation and gain a point in 22 games.
The trade deadline saw the Penguins trade D-man Ryan Whitney to the Anaheim Ducks for winger Chris Kunitz and top prospect Eric Tangradi. The Pens picked up 38-year-old veteran winger Bill Guerin from the Islanders for a conditional third round pick and picked up winger Craig Adams off of waivers from the Chicago Blackhawks. Struggling winger Miroslav Satan was sent to the WBS Pens to clear cap space for the new players.
The Penguins torched the schedule, going 18-3-4. Coach Bylsma's aggressive system, the return of Gonchar, and the addition of some quality wingers energized the club.
The tenth place team that Bylsma inherited was now sitting in fourth place and looking at home ice advantage against the hated Philadelphia Flyers.
But, alas, there was doubt about the Penguins' ability to handle the Flyers' potent offense and their plethora of 25- and 30- goal scorers.
With the help of excellent play by goaltender Fleury, the Pens dispatched the Flyers in six games. Capping off the series was a 5-3 come-from-behind win in game six in which the Pens rattled off five unanswered goals.
The second round brought the Penguins into the nation's capital against their next biggest rival, the Washington Capitals.
This series proved to be a battle of the stars. Pittsburgh's captain Crosby and Washington's top gun Alex Ovechkin traded goals and trash talk throughout the series. Ultimately, Crosby and the Penguins emerged as the victor in the seven game series.
Pittsburgh started the series in a two game hole, losing both games in Washington, then turned around to win three straight. Washington stole game six in overtime in Pittsburgh but the Penguins treated the Capitals to a 6-2 drubbing at the Verizon Center to win the series.
This series was one of the best series' in a long time. Each game was marked by strong up-and-down play and scoring chances galore. In game two, Crosby and Ovechkin each scored a hat trick. Capitals rookie goaltender Simeon Varlomov seemed unbeatable at first. But once his weakness was figured out, the series was over.
Up next was Cam Ward and the Carolina Hurricanes. Goaltender Ward had never lost a playoff series and the Canes were 9-0 when top line center Eric Staal scored.
Both streaks were ended when the Canes fell to the Penguins in a four game sweep. Game one was close. Games two and three were lopsided wins by the Penguins (7-4 and 6-2). By game four, the Canes were broken. Eric Staal managed to finally score but the Penguins blasted off four unanswered goals and claimed the Prince of Wales trophy for the second year in a row.
All of the adversity that the Penguins had faced in the regular season and the playoff would pale in comparison to their next rival: the Detroit Red Wings.
The Wings boasted four Cups in 11 years, a lineup of all-stars and future hall-of-famers, and pretty much the same same lineup that won the Cup last year plus Marian Hossa. To call the Finals a challenge would be an understatement.
Through the first three games, the script read like last season, the Pens dropped games one and two in Detroit and won in Pittsburgh. The script changed, however, in game four when the Penguins won.
The new-found optimism of the Penguins was shattered in Detroit when the Red Wings slapped the Penguins around the ice in a 5-0 embarrassment.
The big, bad Red Wings machine had shown who was boss. The parade was planned, the Cup was shined up. Game six was merely a formality, much like the series. Wings goalie Chris Osgood said, "I don't think about the Penguins."
Maybe he should have.
Everything that the Penguins had faced up to this point: the free agency losses, the injuries, the bad play, the coaching change, and the comeback in Washington, prepared them for this moment. They would have to look back on all of their collective experience, pull themselves up by the boot straps and go to work.
The Penguins won game six at home 2-1. But they were not out of Hell just yet. They still had to win in Detroit, where the Wings were 11-1.
Each team went full on through the first two periods. Captain Sidney Crosby was injured in the first period and left the ice. Penguins winger Max Talbot scored twice in the second to give the Pens a 2-0 lead.
The third period looked as if Detroit was on a 20-minute powerplay. The Penguins would retrieve the puck and get it to center and have just enough time to regroup before Detroit was attacking again. Eventually the inevitable happened: Detroit's Jonathan Ericson slipped a shot past Fleury to cut the lead in half.
In all the Wings managed eight shots on goal.
The Penguins? One.
The final 6.5 seconds began with a Detroit face-off win. A shot from the point bounced off of Fleury, through the throng of bodies in front of the net and out to a waiting Nicklas Lidstrom. The 39-year-old defenseman and future hall-of-famer had a yawning net to put the puck in and tie the game. The game, the series, the Cup was right there on his stick. Every kid who has ever picked up a hockey stick dreams of this moment, dreams of being the game seven hero.
So do goaltenders.
Fleury flung himself in the direction of the shot, blocked it and then fell on top of it.
That was it. The game was over. The Pittsburgh Penguins won the Stanley Cup.
They won it on the road in a game seven.
They won it as the underdog in a building where Detroit was unbeatable.
It has been said a million times already so one more won't hurt: the last team to win a game seven on the road for a championship was the 1979 Pittsburgh Pirates.
The last NHL team to do it was the 1971 Montreal Canadiens. That same Canadiens team was the last to do it with a coach that was replaced during the season by a rookie.
To call this win anything than what it is, monumental, would not do it justice.
The Stanley Cup is back in Pittsburgh. After 17 years, it's back.
Welcome back, old friend.
Lemieux's pool has missed you.
The 2008-09 Penguins season was marked by exhilarating highs and debilitating lows. But it seemed like whenever the forecast for the Pens looked its bleakest, the Pens began to shine.
According to critics and experts, this current season was doomed while Detroit was skating around the Mellon with the cup. The "runner up curse" had not been kind to the teams that lost in the Stanley Cup Finals and why would the Pens be any different.
During the summer, a flood of free agents left the Pens. Among them was star winger Marian Hossa, who bolted to Detroit to "win a cup." Defenseman Ryan Whitney had foot surgery and wasn't expected to return until late December at the earliest.
In the first pre-season game in Tampa, top D-man and powerplay quarterback Sergei Gonchar had his shoulder separated by a hit from David Koci. Gonchar opted for surgery but would out until march at the earliest.
How did the Penguins respond? By getting off to one the best starts in franchise history.
The exciting October and November months, during which the Pens won 7-6 in a thrilling overtime game against Detroit in Detroit, led to the dark depressing months of December and January.
The play was bad. The players were frustrated.
The powerplay went scoreless in 32 attempts. The Pens couldn't string three wins together, often going win-loss-win-loss. They lost to teams in the NHL's basement- 2-0 to Tampa, 6-2 to the Maple Leafs. They fell from second in the conference to tenth and out of the playoffs.
Star goalie Marc-Andre Fleury was injured. Star center and captain Sidney Crosby was injured.
The return of Ryan Whitney did little to stop the bleeding.
A players-only meeting was held to see if they could fix what was broken.
They couldn't.
It seemed like every time the Pens would gain an inch, they'd slid down four inches.
Early Feburary saw the return of Sergei Gonchar. The struggling powerplay looked worlds better with Gonchar at the controls, but was still nothing to write home about.
On February 15, the coach that lead them to the finals the year before, Michel Therrien, was replaced by the coach of the Wilkes/Barre-Scranton Penguins, Dan Bylsma. Bylsma, who was 38 games into his first season as a head coach, took over a team in tenth place and five points out of the playoffs.
Once again the season was written off.
The Pens responded by losing in a shootout to the Islanders in the first game under the new head coach.
After this loss, however, the Pens would lose only three more times in regulation and gain a point in 22 games.
The trade deadline saw the Penguins trade D-man Ryan Whitney to the Anaheim Ducks for winger Chris Kunitz and top prospect Eric Tangradi. The Pens picked up 38-year-old veteran winger Bill Guerin from the Islanders for a conditional third round pick and picked up winger Craig Adams off of waivers from the Chicago Blackhawks. Struggling winger Miroslav Satan was sent to the WBS Pens to clear cap space for the new players.
The Penguins torched the schedule, going 18-3-4. Coach Bylsma's aggressive system, the return of Gonchar, and the addition of some quality wingers energized the club.
The tenth place team that Bylsma inherited was now sitting in fourth place and looking at home ice advantage against the hated Philadelphia Flyers.
But, alas, there was doubt about the Penguins' ability to handle the Flyers' potent offense and their plethora of 25- and 30- goal scorers.
With the help of excellent play by goaltender Fleury, the Pens dispatched the Flyers in six games. Capping off the series was a 5-3 come-from-behind win in game six in which the Pens rattled off five unanswered goals.
The second round brought the Penguins into the nation's capital against their next biggest rival, the Washington Capitals.
This series proved to be a battle of the stars. Pittsburgh's captain Crosby and Washington's top gun Alex Ovechkin traded goals and trash talk throughout the series. Ultimately, Crosby and the Penguins emerged as the victor in the seven game series.
Pittsburgh started the series in a two game hole, losing both games in Washington, then turned around to win three straight. Washington stole game six in overtime in Pittsburgh but the Penguins treated the Capitals to a 6-2 drubbing at the Verizon Center to win the series.
This series was one of the best series' in a long time. Each game was marked by strong up-and-down play and scoring chances galore. In game two, Crosby and Ovechkin each scored a hat trick. Capitals rookie goaltender Simeon Varlomov seemed unbeatable at first. But once his weakness was figured out, the series was over.
Up next was Cam Ward and the Carolina Hurricanes. Goaltender Ward had never lost a playoff series and the Canes were 9-0 when top line center Eric Staal scored.
Both streaks were ended when the Canes fell to the Penguins in a four game sweep. Game one was close. Games two and three were lopsided wins by the Penguins (7-4 and 6-2). By game four, the Canes were broken. Eric Staal managed to finally score but the Penguins blasted off four unanswered goals and claimed the Prince of Wales trophy for the second year in a row.
All of the adversity that the Penguins had faced in the regular season and the playoff would pale in comparison to their next rival: the Detroit Red Wings.
The Wings boasted four Cups in 11 years, a lineup of all-stars and future hall-of-famers, and pretty much the same same lineup that won the Cup last year plus Marian Hossa. To call the Finals a challenge would be an understatement.
Through the first three games, the script read like last season, the Pens dropped games one and two in Detroit and won in Pittsburgh. The script changed, however, in game four when the Penguins won.
The new-found optimism of the Penguins was shattered in Detroit when the Red Wings slapped the Penguins around the ice in a 5-0 embarrassment.
The big, bad Red Wings machine had shown who was boss. The parade was planned, the Cup was shined up. Game six was merely a formality, much like the series. Wings goalie Chris Osgood said, "I don't think about the Penguins."
Maybe he should have.
Everything that the Penguins had faced up to this point: the free agency losses, the injuries, the bad play, the coaching change, and the comeback in Washington, prepared them for this moment. They would have to look back on all of their collective experience, pull themselves up by the boot straps and go to work.
The Penguins won game six at home 2-1. But they were not out of Hell just yet. They still had to win in Detroit, where the Wings were 11-1.
Each team went full on through the first two periods. Captain Sidney Crosby was injured in the first period and left the ice. Penguins winger Max Talbot scored twice in the second to give the Pens a 2-0 lead.
The third period looked as if Detroit was on a 20-minute powerplay. The Penguins would retrieve the puck and get it to center and have just enough time to regroup before Detroit was attacking again. Eventually the inevitable happened: Detroit's Jonathan Ericson slipped a shot past Fleury to cut the lead in half.
In all the Wings managed eight shots on goal.
The Penguins? One.
The final 6.5 seconds began with a Detroit face-off win. A shot from the point bounced off of Fleury, through the throng of bodies in front of the net and out to a waiting Nicklas Lidstrom. The 39-year-old defenseman and future hall-of-famer had a yawning net to put the puck in and tie the game. The game, the series, the Cup was right there on his stick. Every kid who has ever picked up a hockey stick dreams of this moment, dreams of being the game seven hero.
So do goaltenders.
Fleury flung himself in the direction of the shot, blocked it and then fell on top of it.
That was it. The game was over. The Pittsburgh Penguins won the Stanley Cup.
They won it on the road in a game seven.
They won it as the underdog in a building where Detroit was unbeatable.
It has been said a million times already so one more won't hurt: the last team to win a game seven on the road for a championship was the 1979 Pittsburgh Pirates.
The last NHL team to do it was the 1971 Montreal Canadiens. That same Canadiens team was the last to do it with a coach that was replaced during the season by a rookie.
To call this win anything than what it is, monumental, would not do it justice.
The Stanley Cup is back in Pittsburgh. After 17 years, it's back.
Welcome back, old friend.
Lemieux's pool has missed you.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The Sad $300 Motorcycle Story Part 2
After really looking at the Seca, it's really not bad at all. It's evident that the bike spent some time outside judging by the surface rust on some places like the front fender and the pegs. The chrome, or should I say "chrome" since it is Japanese after all, is pitted but cleaned up well enough with some chrome polish.
Before I delved into anything mechanical, I waxed the bike. There is something about dull, dusty paint that makes me want to make it shine. The paint cleaned up better than I thought it would, though I still think it would make a concourse judge want to kill himself. It's very uneven, it's darker in some spots than others and kind of rough.
But who cares about all of that, it's shiny!
After making the bike shiny, I installed the battery and hit the starter button. I can't say I was surprised when it didn't start but I was thankful when the engine turned over. I had this gut feeling that, despite the clean oil, the engine would be seized from sitting so long.
Before I tackled the massive carb cleaning job, I decided to check spark first. I started with plug number 1 and was shocked at the newness of the plugs.
I grabbed a ratchet and a plug socket but forgot the spark tester and since I am too lazy to walk the five feet back to the tool box, I pulled the plug (ha!) and laid it on the head while I cranked the engine. I saw that I had spark but wanted a better view so I reached down and grabbed the plug while cranking and promptly electrocuted myself.
Getting electrocuted is a weird feeling. At first you're like "what is going on?" but then you realize what is happening and then you let go of whatever is electrocuting you.
After electrocuting myself once and finding good spark from all four plugs, it was now time to clean out the carbs.
Yay.
Before I went after the carbs, I peered into the gas tank. Wow is all I can say. The gas was a strange brown, like a brown found on an early 70's Cadillac that was left out in the sun, and smelled rancid. I think Mad Max would turn down this gas, it's that nasty.
The tank is ridiculously easy to remove on this bike. Pop off the fuel line and the vacuum line, pull the clamp off of the bolt head under the back of the tank and it's off. It's a 10 second job.
After spending about 45 minutes staring at the carbs wondering how to remove them instead of following the instructions (whatever instructions are), I engaged in combat with my motorcycle.
I fought with the bolt under the battery, which started life as a 12mm bolt but is now a corroded lump of an indeterminate size.
Once that was taken care of, I fought with the with the airbox. The rubber booties that connect the airbox to the carbs thankfully are removable. I realized this after swearing profusely and almost knocking the bike off of the centerstand.
With those booties removed, I could now remove the carbs. What I mean by that is, I could now almost knock the bike off the centerstand again.
The drain for the float bowls were frozen and the screw heads were starting to strip so whatever gas was in the bowls would have to stay there. The gas stayed there until I turned the carbs upside-down and spilled gas all over the floor and myself.
Once the bowls were removed, the severity of the clogging was revealed. When I say clogged, I mean clogged.
The next few weeks were spent cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. I also think I installed and removed the carbs about 100 times during this span of time.
All of the cleaning and cussing and smelling like rancid gas was worth it when I hit that starter button and the bike came alive. It has a long way to go before it'll be running right, or even close to right, but right now that doesn't matter.
All that matters now is that this once non-running machine is now one step closer to being road-worthy.
The heart beats...
Before I delved into anything mechanical, I waxed the bike. There is something about dull, dusty paint that makes me want to make it shine. The paint cleaned up better than I thought it would, though I still think it would make a concourse judge want to kill himself. It's very uneven, it's darker in some spots than others and kind of rough.
But who cares about all of that, it's shiny!
After making the bike shiny, I installed the battery and hit the starter button. I can't say I was surprised when it didn't start but I was thankful when the engine turned over. I had this gut feeling that, despite the clean oil, the engine would be seized from sitting so long.
Before I tackled the massive carb cleaning job, I decided to check spark first. I started with plug number 1 and was shocked at the newness of the plugs.
I grabbed a ratchet and a plug socket but forgot the spark tester and since I am too lazy to walk the five feet back to the tool box, I pulled the plug (ha!) and laid it on the head while I cranked the engine. I saw that I had spark but wanted a better view so I reached down and grabbed the plug while cranking and promptly electrocuted myself.
Getting electrocuted is a weird feeling. At first you're like "what is going on?" but then you realize what is happening and then you let go of whatever is electrocuting you.
After electrocuting myself once and finding good spark from all four plugs, it was now time to clean out the carbs.
Yay.
Before I went after the carbs, I peered into the gas tank. Wow is all I can say. The gas was a strange brown, like a brown found on an early 70's Cadillac that was left out in the sun, and smelled rancid. I think Mad Max would turn down this gas, it's that nasty.
The tank is ridiculously easy to remove on this bike. Pop off the fuel line and the vacuum line, pull the clamp off of the bolt head under the back of the tank and it's off. It's a 10 second job.
After spending about 45 minutes staring at the carbs wondering how to remove them instead of following the instructions (whatever instructions are), I engaged in combat with my motorcycle.
I fought with the bolt under the battery, which started life as a 12mm bolt but is now a corroded lump of an indeterminate size.
Once that was taken care of, I fought with the with the airbox. The rubber booties that connect the airbox to the carbs thankfully are removable. I realized this after swearing profusely and almost knocking the bike off of the centerstand.
With those booties removed, I could now remove the carbs. What I mean by that is, I could now almost knock the bike off the centerstand again.
The drain for the float bowls were frozen and the screw heads were starting to strip so whatever gas was in the bowls would have to stay there. The gas stayed there until I turned the carbs upside-down and spilled gas all over the floor and myself.
Once the bowls were removed, the severity of the clogging was revealed. When I say clogged, I mean clogged.
The next few weeks were spent cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. I also think I installed and removed the carbs about 100 times during this span of time.
All of the cleaning and cussing and smelling like rancid gas was worth it when I hit that starter button and the bike came alive. It has a long way to go before it'll be running right, or even close to right, but right now that doesn't matter.
All that matters now is that this once non-running machine is now one step closer to being road-worthy.
The heart beats...
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