I Wonder If Danny Glover Is a Hockey Fan?

Despite my previous resolve to be one at the start of the NHL playoffs, I haven't been a very good Red Wings fan thus far. Most of my interest and emotion has come from looking at the scores the next day and saying something like "The Wings lost?" or "Oh $#!+, the series is tied?" and "I should really watch the next game."

I haven't watched many of the games. I don't think I'd even watched an entire game. That is, until last night. The Tigers weren't on. The Pistons - while the NBA kneels before the mistress television - don't begin the renewal of their blood rivalry with the Chicago Bulls (hmm, I may write about that tomorrow) until Saturday. And for the most part, Wednesday's a crap TV night (though I find that woman on Bones quite attractive). So, despite the fact that I knew I'd probably be paying for it, I stayed up to watch Game 4 of Red Wings-Sharks.

And once the game went into overtime, Danny Glover/Roger Murtaugh were echoing loudly in my brain. Maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking. Or the weird combination of an adult beverage with a late Chinese food dinner, followed by a few cups of tea. Whatever the reason, I was up at 1 a.m. to see if the Wings could tie up this series.

I'm gettin' too old for this shit.

24-year-old Ian called. He's asking when 34-year-old Ian became such a lame-o geezer. If I had the energy right now, I'd try to punch 24-year-old Ian in the face. Also, I'd tell him to date more women and graduate college sooner.

I can't quite describe the emotion I felt when San Jose's Craig Rivet was whistled for a penalty at 14:52 of overtime. I wouldn't call it happy because I was too tired to get that amped up. I'm sure I'll be much happier when/if my first child is born. Maybe it's comparable to the feeling I have when I haven't eaten a cheese steak hoagie for a long time, and I take that first bite. I know it's bad for me, but damn, I like it. And it just felt like the Wings were going to win the game on that power play. Again, maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking.

But when Mathieu Schneider rocketed a slap shot under the crossbar to win the game, I raised my arms in triumph. Not necessarily because the Wings won, but because I knew sweet slumber would soon follow. Very shortly after I saw the replay which showed that the angle on Schneider's shot changed when it deflected off of Scott Hannan, I think I turned off the TV while my head hit the pillow all in one motion. Zzzzzz.

A natural question would be, "Well, why didn't you just go to sleep?" (A better one might be, "Why didn't you plan better and take a nap early in the evening?") C'mon, I couldn't just turn the game off after sticking with it that long. Anyone who's endured a marathon overtime NHL playoff game (and, really, this wasn't one of those) has surely thought the same thing.

But to answer the title of this post, even if Danny Glover was a hockey fan, isn't he already on the west coast? So he wouldn't have to deal with these 10 p.m. EST start times. That has to keep him young. At least younger than I'm feeling right now.

Is This the Week I Get Back Into Hockey?

So the NHL playoffs begin this week. The Red Wings begin their post-season Thursday against the Calgary Flames (and old friend Darren McCarty). The Wings' marketing department has rolled out their new slogan for the Stanley Cup run: Join the Red Wave.

Usually, I'm less than impressed by these dippy rallying cries, but there's something appropriate about this one. In past years, there was no "joining" in Detroit. You'd been following the Wings all season long. There was no playoff bandwagon to jump onto. Everyone was already excited and eagerly anticipating the affirmation that the playoffs would surely bring.

But now, it does kind of feel like fans need to be recruited. More specifically, they need to be reminded. The Wings once ruled Detroit. You know, "Hockeytown" and all that. Sure, maybe some of that was because the Pistons and Tigers were down, but there was also a genuine love and passion for the team. And for the sport.

I know I need to myself that at one point, I loved hockey. I couldn't get enough of either the NHL or college games. Come playoff time, nothing mattered more than the Wings game. I cancelled dates. (And as you might imagine, they were rarely, if ever, rescheduled.) I tried to grow a playoff beard as the weather neared summer temperatures because that's just what you did at that time of year.

I alienated family members by sticking to my superstitions. Every time I watched the first period of a Wings playoff game, they seemed to lose. So I'd listen to the first period on the radio, sometimes in another room, sometimes in the car. One Sunday afternoon in May of 1998, the family had gathered for a birthday dinner, and someone wanted to turn on the game. I told everyone my superstition, and of course, everyone laughed. But I was serious. I was not going to watch that game on TV. There was too much at stake.

So while the rest of my family ate dinner, I sat in my car to listen to the beginning of the Wings game. And I ate my meal during the first intermission. The Wings won their second straight Stanley Cup that year. I'm comfortable with my decision.

But I can't imagine doing such a thing now. At least not for a hockey game. (I could think of several reasons to bail on my extended family during a meal, however.)

I wrote a Red Wings preview for a magazine assignment, and listening to various analysts give me quotes about Henrik Zetterberg, Nicklas Lidstrom, and Dominik Hasek stirred up some of those old feelings. I thought that writing that article might reignite my interest for hockey. But I didn't watch any regular season games this year, other than when Steve Yzerman's jersey was retired. And I barely checked to see how the Wings were doing. If a blog I normally read decides to write about hockey that day, I often either just skim the post or skip it altogether. And as I'm off to another site, I find myself thinking, "Why is he writing about hockey? No one cares anymore."

What got me thinking about all this is an article in today's Detroit News. Apparently, I'm not the only one who's either trying to re-familiarize myself with the sport or just turning away from it altogether. Who's got tickets? The Red Wings do. Lots of 'em. Need an entire row? Operators are standing by. 2,500 season ticket holders passed on playoff tickets.

Times are most definitely tough around here economically, and those seats ain't getting any cheaper, but that's almost unheard of. Maybe people decided to throw their ticket money at the Tigers this year.

Anyway, I think I'll tune in on Thursday night. Although I do love The Office (Oh, does someone do a podcast about that show? Ahem.) and 30 Rock...

▪▪ While I'm on the subject of hockey, belated congratulations to the Michigan State hockey team for winning the national championship on Saturday night. I got home in time to catch the third period, and was rewarded with one hell of an ending. If I recall correctly, MSU was "the hockey school" in the state when I started to become familiar with college hockey. And Munn Ice Arena is always a nice place to catch a game (though not as loud as Yost - c'mon, you know I'm right). So a tip of the cap to Sparty for bringing a trophy back to Michigan.

Arriving Late to the Todd Bertuzzi Blog Party

I'm still not sure what to think of the Detroit Red Wings acquiring Todd Bertuzzi yesterday. I can't pretend that I've cared very much about hockey this season. In fact, this might be my first Red Wings-related post of the season. Maybe that will change during the playoffs, after which I'll look at myself in the mirror and ask myself when I became "that kind" of hockey fan.

Big Al probably best echoed my thoughts in his live blog of the trading deadline. At the time, I thought what Bertuzzi did to Steve Moore should perhaps result in a lifetime ban from the NHL. But both the NHL and the province of British Columbia thought he served a proper sentence for his actions, so if those institutions say he can play hockey, what does my opinion matter?

When I wrote a magazine preview of this year's Red Wings, each "expert" I talked to said not to judge the team Detroit began the season with. Ken Holland was biding his time, watching what he had, and holding onto his valued salary cap space until the trading deadline. Then, once Holland saw what his team needed - in this case, the kind of power forward they were lacking when Brendan Shanahan left for New York - he'd do what he always does: make a move to fill a need.

And if Bertuzzi can be anywhere near his 2002-03 form (when he racked up 97 points), then the Red Wings' power forward cup will runneth over, and this deal will look like a frickin' steal. (That Kyle Calder trade ain't lookin' so bad right now, either.)

With that back injury, however, I can't help but wonder if this is Uwe Krupp, part deux.