Formula For Success

(Warning to Mitch. This post and probably any other posts of mine today will focus on hockey. No baseball. No bagpipes. No bread baking banality. Perhaps later this summer I'll compare the relative merits of the American and National leagues, Great Highland bagpipes versus North Thumbrian Smallpipes, and the differences between short mix, improved mix, and intensive mix but for now it's hard core hockey baby.)

I have adopted a rather strict regimen while watching Wild playoff games. One beer per period. This forces me to conserve the precious nectar of life and makes me aware of my consumption. Otherwise the tension of a hockey playoff contest would cause me to raise my glass early and often. When the Gophers won the 2002 National Championship in overtime I probably averaged a beer per shift at Tom Reid's Hockey Pub.

I also have become rather superstitious in my choice of brews. On Monday while preparing for Game Five I was about to reach into my frig and pull out a Sleeman's Cream Ale when I suddenly had a revelation. I can't drink no Canadian beer while my squad is playing a team from Vancouver. Back went the Sleeman's and out came the Belgian Primus Lager. Not a strong pro-Wild choice mind you but neutrality was good enough at that point. I saved a Summit Pale Ale for my third period selection figuring that a St. Paul brewed beer would be a nice karmic touch. The pattern was repeated with much success in Game Six. Last night I had to hustle off to the local beer merchant before the opening face off to restock my Summit supplies. Once again my beer per period formula proved effective. To mark the improbable Wild victory and the elimination of the Canucks I capped the night off with a celebratory Scotch.

Now that the next opponent is the Anaheim Ducks I am once again free to enjoy my Sleeman's Cream Ale. Thanks Vancouver! Now we all now what the C on your sweater stands for. If you can take your hands off your throat for a moment let's have a toast. This one's for you.

And the next one's for Todd Bertuzzi. He had a great regular season and is a damn good hockey player. But he's also an incredible bonehead at times, demonstrated for all to see last night with his mindless interference penalty at the end of the game that pretty much sealed the deal for the Wild. Thanks Todd! Have fun playing golf.

If you enjoy a little schadenfreude you may wish to check out this Canuck fan site. Opinion among Vancouver fans seems to be split among four camps:

Cloutier sucks (hard to argue with this one)

Crawford sucks (he's no Jacques but then who is?)

The Canucks suck (it has a nice sound to it)

Or... let's be happy the Canucks got as far as they did and celebrate their achievements. I call this the loser group. Let's see, you blow a two goal lead in Game Seven at home and a three to one series lead in the second round of the playoffs to an expansion team that's only three years old and you're okay with that? These are the kind of people who are just as happy winning a consolation trophy as the real thing. But the Canucks tried hard and that's all they can do right? Yes they tried and they failed. It's now time to feel shame.

Finally why do Canadian fans feel the need to elevate every contest into a national showdown with the U.S.? The way the Vancouver fans were waving their Canadian flags around last night during the O'Canada you would have thought we were watching the Olympics. The series was Minnesota versus Vancouver not the U.S. versus Canada. There's just something desperately pathetic about a country so lacking in national self esteem that its people leap at any opportunity, however inappropriate, to demonstrate their patriotism and wave the flag. I guess that's the kind of thing that happens when you become militarily, politically, and economically irrelevant. Word to the French.