THE DREAM LIVES; EDMONTON NEXT
The fans were going insane, the players were slapping each other in celebration and even coach Jacques Demers, dressed in his lucky wedding suit, walked out across the ice, raised a fist, and suddenly leaped toward the heavens. Why not? That’s where these magic...
A Toot Of The Horn For Jacques Demers
Sometime this afternoon, I will drive over to Jacques Demers’ place and honk the horn. That should make at least two punk rockers happy. I am talking about the two guys who stopped me outside Joe Louis Arena before the first game of this crazy Toronto-Detroit playoff series — they had leather pants and leather jackets and spiked hair and Red Wings shirts; I can only assume they liked punk rock — and who only wanted to ask me this: “Did you drive Jacques to the game tonight?”
And I said no, not this time.
A TOOT OF THE HORN FOR JACQUES DEMERS
Sometime this afternoon, I will drive to Jacques Demers’ house and honk the horn. And that should make two bikers in this city very happy. I am talking about the two guys in leather jackets and leather pants and spiked hair and boots who stopped me outside Joe...
Proby! Proby! Can Anyone Even Wait For Game 7 Now?
TORONTO — So what if his front teeth were missing? He was smiling as wide as an open net and he was answering the same question a hundred times —
“Describe the goal!” “What happened on the goal?” — and suddenly a teammate’s voice broke through the steamy locker room and stopped the interviews in mid- sentence.
“PROBY! PROBY!” yelled Joe Kocur.
“YEAH?”
“YOUR FIRST PLAYOFF GOAL?”
“YEAH.”
“HERE. CATCH.”
Just What Wings Need: A Call To (Eight) Arms
TORONTO — Don’t move. I have an octopus.
I grin at the mirror as I speak those words. I am cool. I am ready. I am like Robert DeNiro in “Taxi Driver,” a man with a secret and a weapon to back him up. I am from Detroit. I have an octopus.
“Are you talking to me?” I ask my image, with a sudden stare. “Are you talking to . . . me?”
Heh, heh.
PLANE FACT OF THE MATTER — WINGS ARE STILL ALIVE
The fans were standing on their feet, screaming, chanting, their hearts about to pop up through their throats, because the scoreboard was beautiful, the scoreboard was victory, it read 3-0, no time left, and the Red Wings were skating off the ice with smiles on their...
Nhl And Nfl Connected By A Highway From Hell
Can I tell you something about the NFL draft? It starts early. Can I tell you something about the NHL playoffs? They end late. So only a complete fool would try to cover the latter in Canada and the former in the United States within an eight-hour span, right? Only an absolute idiot?
Hey. I had a plan.
Stefan Watches From Afar, Tries Vainly To Hide His Hurt
TORONTO — The goalie sat in a darkened corner high above the ice, and whenever a Toronto player fired a shot he instinctively inched forward as if to stop it, then, remembering where he was, what he had done, why he was here, he sat back.
The Bullets? Have No Fear — Better Still, Have A Beer
The Pistons were leading Washington by, I don’t know, 30 or 35 points, and it was just the second quarter, and all of a sudden someone said, “Hey, look in the corner!” And there, standing against the wall, as the fans walked past him, was the game’s leading scorer, Adrian Dantley.
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