Psycho Lady Hockey has moved!

Yes, I’ve finally done it! I’ve packed up and moved all my blog @#$% over to my new domain at http://www.psycholadyhockey.com! Please adjust your blog rolls accordingly should you be so inclined. So, head on over to the new and improved Psycho Lady Hockey if you want to check out the details of my latest misadventures, or keep track of which hockey rink I’ll be lurking around next. See you on the other side! xo

Season Opener Double Header (Day 4): Game Day #2 Yotes@Sabres – The patron saint of hopeless cases.

I was pretty frustrated when I checked out of my Buffalo hotel in the early afternoon on game day. I had set my own personal ultimatum for this trip, and things weren’t looking good. Essentially, this trip was supposed to (ideally) give me some insight as to whether or not this wild goose chase for the prophesized, Arizona connected, love of my life was really worth it. When predictions, dreams, and gut feelings are all you have to go on, it doesn’t take much to start making you think that you’ve lost your mind. My head felt really foggy that day, like my third eye had finally clouded over. I had plans for future road trips, and suddenly I couldn’t see myself at the games – I couldn’t see myself anywhere.

My usual pregame Sabres routine is to go for a drive around Buffalo and the surrounding area. I looked down at the clock – it was 2:22 PM. “Hmph!” I thought to myself. You know how much I love signs, and 222 is the number that symbolizes that everything is happening the way that it is supposed to happen. How could this be? Everything seemed to be going wrong or mysteriously backfiring! Was this fate in action? And what was this supposed to mean? I had selected the Ralph Wilson Stadium as a point of destination, but the memory of wrong turns taken years before entered my mind, and I decided it was best to turn around and go some place else. I looked to my right and I saw a church in the distance. I decided I would get off at the next exit and turn around at the old building. As I approached the church, I noticed a sign out front that got my attention, “The Shrine of Saint Jude.”

I was stunned that I had stumbled upon such a place, you see, Saint Jude is the patron saint of hope, and hopeless cases, and he is often credited as being the saint that brings about miracles. Last season, when I suspected that I was switching teams to Phoenix, I sought out Saint Jude, and began wearing a medallion of his likeness to every game. However, I had lost my medallion in a very bizarre way. One week before the trade deadline, I was waiting for my flight out of Philadelphia after my last two games at Wachovia Center. My flight was at night, so I decided to kill some time and check out the Flyers Wives Carnival. My jaunt around the concourse was stopped abruptly when I felt my Saint Jude medal fall from my neck never to be found again. I looked up from the scene of the loss and who was standing there unbeknownst to me? Yes, the very player who ended up being traded and catapulting me into my Arizona quest for true love.

I never replaced my medallion, but the thought had crossed my mind before I left for Pittsburgh that maybe I should have. I decided that I would park the car and go check out the shrine. The church was on a lonely street with quaint little houses uniformly decorated for Halloween. A cold wind blew through my hair as I walked toward the church yard, which set the tone for the gravity of autumn, and the impending death and darkness of winter. I walked through the gate, and rang the doorbell of the rectory. The priest answered the door wearing a brown robe, and agreed to give me a tour of the church and show me the shrine.

The priest was a really nice guy. He asked me what made me become such a devoted Jets fan (he kept referring to Phoenix as Winnipeg even though I had told him Phoenix). Naturally, I wasn’t going to talk to a priest about psychics and predictions – I really didn’t need to have that lecture before game time. I can’t remember what I said, but he turned to me, smiled, and said, “Uh huh, so which player is the cutest?” Surprisingly, I actually told him.

For a good half an hour, the priest explained the architecture of the building, and the historical inaccuracies of the stained glass windows. He then left me to have my alone time with the shrine. I placed my wish for assistance in finding my Arizona boy along with the other prayers gathered at the foot of Saint Jude. I lit two of the red candles (one for me and one for the boy) positioned in a crucifix formation in front of the shrine. The priest gave me two novena kits and booklets about the saint while I was on my way out. He grabbed my hand, and placed two Saint Jude medallions in my palm and blessed them. The blessing was for the medals to bring hope not only to me but also to those who see the medal around my neck. After the strange few days that I had, hope was exactly what I needed.

Back in the car, I was suddenly overwhelmed. It took all my strength to fight off having a massive, tearful, emotional breakdown. The last thing I needed was to have mascara smears on my face by game time. To lighten up, I went on a hunt to find the Halloween superstore that was advertised on billboards all over the highway, and also decided that now would be a good time to finally give into the McDonald’s craving I had been having all week.

The game was kind of slow. Luckily, I had two “outgoing” Sabres fans on either side of me to keep me entertained. By “outgoing” I mean they liked to bang on the glass and yell loudly at the Coyotes bench. Unfortunately, my attempt to be the hero cost me the greatest embarrassment of my entire hockey game going career. After the guys were ripping on Shane Doan, I said, “You can’t say that to Shane Doan; it’s Shane Doan!” Seriously, how could anyone hate him? He’s always so happy! I can’t remember what they said, but I replied with, “Everyone loves Shane Doan!” Apparently, they interpreted this as me wanting Doan’s ass. Eeek - impure thoughts of Shane Doan just seems wrong and inappropriate. You can understand how mortified I was when the guys started banging on the glass and yelling to Shane that I wanted to have “little Doans” and that I want “Doan’s shaft.” They said I turned the same colour as my top – Coyotes red.

I arrived home in Toronto at 2:22 AM, and waiting for me was the terrible, ugly, Chlamydic mule of reason that my progress had halted. It was a good thing that I was sitting on my bed when I saw it because my head started spinning, and I don’t doubt that I would have fainted had I been standing. I can’t help but feeling that this was what it feels like to lose game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals. To know that you had given so much, sacrificed so much, gone so far, only to come up short. The weird thing was that I had dreamt this exact moment the night before I left for Pittsburgh, but I still wasn’t prepared for it when it was staring me in the face. That night I decided to break up with the Coyotes. Not necessarily to end our team to fan relationship, but to at least give it some time and space, and reevaluate the situation. I said what I needed to say, but it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I can only imagine that breaking up with a person feels just as bad.

The following day was hard to get through. I really felt like it was an effort to be pleasant to other people, and I actually felt my whole body strain with every effort to smile. Strangely, the fog clouding my third eye during my inaugural hockey road trip had lifted, and I was able to see myself at the Coyotes games again. I also had Coyotes signs flying at me from every angle. I didn’t know what was going on, and I’m still evaluating my next course of action, but all I can hope is that, like the number suggests, destiny is manifesting the way it’s supposed to.

Season Opener Double Header (Day 3): Game Day #1 Yotes@Pens - You’re welcome, Phoenix!

I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you how happy I was to check out of my haunted hotel on Wednesday afternoon. Not that anything really happened after the first night, but I was still too creeped out to sleep with the lights off, and shower with the curtain closed. Anyway, after I checked out, I met up with a friend to hit Qdoba for a pregame meal Coach Bylsma style.

For those of you not from Pens town, or, at least, not familiar with Coach Bylsma’s game day superstition, here’s a recap. Apparently, Coach has to have a Qdoba burrito before every game. Legend has it that the Penguins started winning after he started eating there. Coach claims that he’s not superstitious, and that he just has a “routine.” Seems pretty intense for a simple routine if you ask me. Not only does he get the same thing every game day, he is also particular about the Qdoba staff member who prepares his food. Apparently, he gets quite upset if his burrito goddess isn’t at work on game day. He also gets the burritos made to take to road games, and sometimes even has his vice coaches (I call them vice coaches) eat there as well. Coach is so hardcore about his “routine” that he is even trying to have a Qdoba franchise put in at the Penguins new rink! Does this still seem like a simple routine to you?

Anyway, I had this genius idea that, in the interest of the Coyotes, I would stand in the doorway of the restaurant and block Coach Bylsma’s path. “No burrito for you today, sir!” Unfortunately, we had just missed him by ten or fifteen minutes and he got his burrito to go – SAD! I ordered the pulled pork burrito and it was both huge and delicious – I know, it was carbs central on this trip! I theorize that my burrito ingestion is likely what gave the Coyotes the leg up against the Pens that night, and led them to their shutout victory over the Stanley Cup champions. Not only did I have the burrito, but Coach’s burrito diva herself gave it to me on the house! Now if that’s not unstoppable game day voodoo, I don’t know what is! You’re welcome, Phoenix! By the way, I saw the footage of the game, and I looked damn good eating those cheese fries!

After the game, I drove like mad to get to Buffalo in a decent amount of time. I made it in three hours, including the half hour I was in traffic trying to get out of Mellon Arena. While I was driving like a crazy person on a mission, I, for the first time in my life, really understood the value of my XM satellite radio. The smell of my hotel room in Buffalo reminded me of my mystical six game road trip last season, when I left my sanity at Logan International and became a Coyotes fan. Last season, Buffalo was the second of the Coyotes back to back games at the beginning of their five game eastern kick. At that point I was under a lot of pressure, and already completely stressed about my decisions. This time Buffalo was also the second game of the double header, and my feelings were all too familiar. I was hitting road blocks on this trip, and I was starting to believe that maybe I had made a mistake somewhere along the way. That night I went to bed wondering what was going on with this mystery man I was supposed to meet, but the good news was that I was able to sleep with the lights off.
Apparently, the ORGANIC goods fell out of my top at the game LOL!

Season Opener Double Header (Day 2): You're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you.

Warning: Another vicious entry ahead!

I could discuss all the hockey stories that I heard today, or detail the deliciousness of my first Primanti’s sandwich, but my favourite anecdote from my second day in Pittsburgh happened later in the evening, and I’d much rather talk about that. After a long and disappointing afternoon (minus my lunch outing – that wasn’t disappointing!), I was sitting around the lobby after I finished my Top 10 Tuesday, and decided that I better head out for dinner. It was already after 8PM! That Primanti’s sandwich lasted me all day, and I was still feeling really full. Apart from being on the brink of almost hungry, I was grumpy. My room was haunted, and I didn’t find any damn Arizona boy to ease my suffering. I decided I was going to go out and stir up some trouble if I could find the right situation.

I headed up to Monterey Bay in Mt. Washington. After an irritating cab ride (irritating in the sense that I drove the cabbie nuts – don’t worry, I gave him a HUGE tip), I waltz into Monterey Bay with a diabolical look in my eye and an evil grin on my face. One way or another, I was going to shit disturb up some fun tonight and I didn’t care how it was going to go down. Monterey Bay had a really great view and a menu to die for. Unfortunately, the atmosphere was destroyed when a big headed blond mule in a trampy black dress walked into my portion of the restaurant like she was too good for the world, despite the fact that her herpes spores were likely becoming air born with every breath she took. The only thing about her of any value was the silicone in her boobs. Over-processed, over-tanned, and over used, the only thing worse than this mule/bullfrog look alike is the brainless white v-neck wearing douche bag that calls her girlfriend. Guys really are idiots, aren’t they?

Of course, I could have been personally offended by the trash on legs, but for some strange, sick reason, I was extremely excited. My lips curled into that evil grin again – here was my opportunity for trouble. With the interest of myself and every other awesome woman out there who has had to take a back seat to a fake boobed, bleach blond, eating disordered piece of garbage because most men are too stupid to realize that dating a girl who looks like she has never met a d*ck she wouldn’t s*ck is not a good thing, I immediately devised two possible plans of action.

It was kind of scary how lightning fast I thought these up. The first idea was to pay for the douche bag’s (boyfriend’s) dinner and attach a little note reading, “At least you have good taste in food.” The second was my favourite, but I figured all parties at that table would be too stupid to figure out the message, and that trash-plants (trash +implants – my new fav word – sorry sister/wife) would likely chalk it up to yet another person thinking she was totally “hot” and “not a hideous blonde mule.” My plan was to send her a Blow Job shot – you know, on account of her inability to refuse them in the non-alcohol sense. I waited patiently for my server to come back so I could execute whichever plan popped out of my mouth first, but, alas, trash-plants, doucher, and company exited the premises before it could go down. I was mildly disappointed, but at the same time I was strangely satisfied almost as if I was able to succeed in my scheme before trash-plants went back to her hotel to engage in the only activity she likely does well (lots of practice, you know).

Anyway, I spent the remainder of the night partaking of two desserts – one was for charity, AND I gave my server some to take home because she was going on about how much she loved them. See, I can be nice too sometimes. I ordered Oreo lollipops and root beer truffles (couldn’t resist when I heard they were root beer flavour). I also regaled the staff with my harrowing tales from my haunted hotel room. I was completely energized from nearly ruining trash-plant’s and/or doucher’s night, so I boldly invited two handsome men waiting for a cab back downtown to share mine. They were nice enough to even pay! As the cabbie drove an exhilarating 30 miles over the speed limit the entire way back, I started thinking about how dumb I was to think that I needed a man to protect me from the ghost in my hotel room. If anything, the ghost should be afraid of me!

P.S. Don’t forget that tomorrow is game day! TSN is broadcasting the Coyotes @ Pens game, and I’ll be sitting behind the Coyotes’ bench. Facebook or Tweet me if you see me! :)

Top 10 Tuesday: The Pensburgh Edition

Even though I’m on the road, I didn’t forget about Top 10 Tuesday. In honour of this excursion, today’s Top 10 lists my favourite things about Pittsburgh thus far. Fear not, you will get a Day 2 blog entry later tonight! Enjoy!

10. No Sales Tax
If I were a shopper, I’d go crazy for this. Alas, I am not.

9. Immovable Movable Domes
Mellon Arena hasn’t been opened in over a decade. Thank goodness the Pens' new crib is slowly beginning to materialize across the street.

8. Black and Gold on Every Corner
Everywhere I look there is either a Pens or Steelers fan decked out in their team colours, or a team merchandise store. This city puts Toronto to shame in that department! Always great to see.

7. New Allegiances
Coyotes newly acquired forward, Paul Bissonnette, plucked from the clutches of the Pittsburgh Penguins.

6. Team Toilet Seats
I thought I had seen it all in the merch department until I found fan toilet seats in one of the stores in town!

5. Superstitious Coaches
Word on the street is that Coach (DILF) Bylsma is intense about his pregame meal “routine.”

4.The Word,”Yinz”
The Pittsburgher’s equivalent of, “y’all.”

3. Peeping Tom Ghosts
OK, maybe I’m not such a fan of my hotel being haunted! Is it only a coincidence that the activity started when I stripped down to my panties? Luckily, like so many men in my life, I seemed to scare him off when he saw me naked. Sorry, they call them “Wonder Bras” for a reason!

2. Teenstaches
The official trademark of the Pittsburgh Penguins.

1. Primanti’s Sandwich
YUM! Had my first one at lunch today and I’m still full! Primanti’s gives the Philly cheese steak a run for its money! BUT, to be fair, I did have the cheese steak flavour!

Season Opener Double Header (Day 1): Greetings from Pensburgh!

My drive to Pittsburgh was uneventful for the most part, aside, of course, from the US border guards’ suspicions of a girl’s interest in sports – some things never change. It was nice to feel those same old hockey road trip sensations after a long five months of inactivity. The sleeplessness the night before travel, the way tired eyes feel in morning sunlight, the jitteriness from a diet of caffeine and no food for the entire duration of the drive, and finally the anxiety when pulling up to the hotel (to name a few). As long as the offseason felt to most of us non-Penguins fans, when I walked into the lobby of the hotel, I suddenly felt like my last game was only a few days ago. It was like nothing had changed, and business was carrying on as usual.

One thing is different this time around. People often joke that I’m on the NHL schedule because I always show up to the host city the day before the game. This time I decided to take an extended trip and come to town two days before puck drop. It’s a really weird feeling to know that when I wake up in the morning, it still won’t be game day. Not sure I like the feeling to tell you the truth. I prefer it when my hockey trips are all business all the time. But I AM having a good time! I had a really great dinner tonight at Soba. Soba reminded me of happier times at Buddakan in Philadelphia when I was a Flyers fan and everything seemed a lot simpler. Another plus was that they were doing a special awesome tasting menu (I LOVE tasting menus). Their chef selections were intense (four courses), and the portions were HUGE . Yes, I ate carbs tonight! Wooo!

However, some things made me wish that I stayed home today. Walking through the hallways of the old hotel, I started to feel an eerie heaviness. “Oh, this hotel is haunted,” I thought to myself. No big deal, I’ve been in lots of haunted places. Apart from the annoying pressure headaches, it doesn’t usually faze me all that much. So, I just disregarded the spirits in the hallway, and chalked them up to another neat feature in the hotel. However, later tonight, as I was about to take a shower, the charm of the haunted building lost its appeal pretty damn fast.

After I stripped down to my skivvies, I unpacked my shampoo and conditioner and put them on the ledge of the bathtub. I turned my back to them for a moment, and suddenly I heard a loud bang coming from behind me. I turn around, and one of the bottles had come flying off the ledge. I felt that eerie heaviness again, but I decided to deduce that the ledge must have been slanted. I moved both bottles to the other side of the tub where the ledge was definitely not slanted. I walked out of the room, and within a couple minutes, another loud bang. Now the other bottle had been thrown from the ledge. Ok, now I knew something was up. I moved both bottles again, and again the same thing happened. For someone like me, I was surprisingly freaked out.

I decided to investigate and do a routine Google search for the hotel with haunted next to the name. As it turns out, two floors in this hotel have been completely closed down because of the paranormal activity. People reported seeing things, feeling like they were being watched, mysterious gusts of wind barreling through the corridors, and strange laughter. Apparently, there was a murder up there.

Anyway, I was successfully creeped out, and managed to put off showering for a whole hour until I MacGyvered a way to shower with both the door and the shower curtain open. I don’t think I’ve ever showered so fast in my life (P.S. at this moment, while I’m writing this, something started kicking my bed). If you’re watching the Coyotes game on Wednesday, and you see me sitting behind the bench with terrible hair now you’ll know why. I never thought I’d ever say this, but I can’t wait to get to my hotel room in Buffalo on Wednesday night.

I’ve always been the fearless, independent type. I never thought that I needed anyone to make me happy. Tonight, for the first time in maybe my entire life, I felt, not just lonely, but truly needy. I couldn’t help but thinking about how much easier I’d sleep tonight and tomorrow night if I had someone here with me. This inevitably made me think about that Arizona boy that I’m supposedly destined to be with, and I couldn’t help but hope that somehow, someway, he’ll walk through the hotel lobby tomorrow and into my life.

Appearance on HockeyBuzz LIVE tonight!

For those of you who couldn't tune in to HockeyBuzz for tonight's 2 hour LIVE Season Preveiw, and would love another chance to listen to me make an ass out of myself, then click here for the podcast version of the show! I actually had to talk about REAL hockey stuff, guys! You can also tell by my voice that I still have not fully recovered from my feverish episode when the Flyers were in town. Enjoy!

Top 10 Tuesday: Glorious Google Hits.

Over the nine months that Psycho Lady Hockey has been up and running, I have had thousands of Google hits from all over the world. After filtering through the standard searches for me, Sean Avery, and the Phoenix Coyotes’ wives, some of the more abstract keywords really make me laugh. This week’s Top 10 Tuesday lists some of my favourite Google searches that have led the unsuspecting Internet user to my precious blog. If any of these hits are from you, then you are to be commended on your tremendous web browsing skills, and you should feel proud that you made my list this week! Enjoy!

10. Gongshow huge lipper.
Landing Page: Main Page
Hey there, Tier II hockey star! Killing time after curf with the old Internet machine, eh? Here's your Surgeon General's Warning

9. The world’s biggest tittiest.
Landing Page: All Star Games are the anti-Viagra.
Not here, buddy! I don’t have implants.

8. Old lady shakes finger at Flyers Penguins game.
Landing Page: Philadelphia (Days 1 & 2): Toronto is not a state!
This came up a few times. Did I somehow miss this during the game?

7. I have a bunny skin on my head.
Landing Page: Hockey fan or puck bunny? The answer is skin deep.
I’m happy for you…*clap clap*

6. What hockey players have you slept with?
Landing Page: Down the Rabbit Hole: Puck Bunny Quiz
Who was this person even asking? If they aren’t 30 goal scorers, why bother bragging?

5. Do the psychics say Balsillie gets the Coyotes?
Landing Page: May Archive
Well, I know what my psychics say about it, but I’m going to keep that to myself for now WINK!

4. How can I get lady for sex without money?
Landing Page: Will NOT have sex for carbs or money!
Hmm…even hand lotion costs money. Guess you’re screwed, and not in the way you’d like to be.

3. What to do about underage puck bunny?
Landing Page: Main Page.
My blog got a surprising amount of jail bait related Google hits. Guess online predators really do exist! P.S. Look how cute the bunny is!! He's just small!

2. Does Taylor Pyatt sleep with puck bunnies?
Landing Page: Main Page
Back off, bitch, he’s mine! Just KIDDING! I wouldn’t sleep with him, I’d just SNUGGLE with him! Re: #1

1. Why do hockey players have blue balls?
Landing Page: When your friends don’t like hockey…
Yes, I am the reason.