Fantasy Preview Three Games In: All Prognostications Guaranteed

On Tuesday night I went down to the rough end of town, crossed over to the bad side of the tracks, and went down the creepy alley. There it was, past the dumpsters, past the stacks of old crates: a blue neon glow from a sign that read "Thunders." It was the secret entrance to Toronto's finest bar catering exclusively to fans of the Tampa Bay Lightning.

I threw open the door in dramatic fashion, letting to blue light give me a spooky glow as I stepped inside.

"Close the door, dickhead!" someone yelled. I pulled it shut behind me.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I saw the usual gang there: Ramone, Carter J. Lizardman, Old Mortimer, and Mitoko. Mantel was behind the bar serving, and the old TV was playing behind him. The game was already on. The Lightning were visiting the Hurricanes.

I unwound the black and blue scarf from around my neck and sat down. "Beer Mantel," I said. "A warm one if you have it."

"Cold out, eh?' croaked the Lizardman. "Where's you park your Taun-taun?"

"He froze before I reached the first marker," I said. "Any score yet?"

"One-nothing," Mitoko said. "Now the terrible blogger is here, and like a curse, the Hurricanes will score many goals. Many, many goals because of the terrible blogger."

I looked down the bar at Mitoko. As usual she looked beautiful, like some kind of crystal ice princess carved out of glowing frozen hatred, but tonight she seemed a bit wobbly. She had a glass of brown liquor in front of her, and I remembered that the Tuesday night drink special in Thunders was cheap triples. Better to keep my mouth shut. Mitoko was crazy and dangerous when sober. I didn't want to upset her when she was drunk.

Instead I turned to my left. "Who had the goal?" I asked Mort.

"Uh... number 11. Who's that? Sergey Gusev?"

"Ser-- are you kidding? He wasn't even a regular, and that was like, ten years ago. More, even. How do you even remember his name, let alone what number he was? I mean, I don't know if I should be impressed, or... Oh, never mind. Carter, Ramone, who got the goal?"

"Pyatt," they answered in unison, and then looked at each other. Carter finished. "He knocked it out of the air. Lecavalier pass."

"Cool," I said. "The Captain gets another point. I have him pencilled in at a point a game this year."

"Oh, right," said Ramone. "Your inaccurate prognostications. How many points do you think Stamkos gets this year, genious?"

The game came back from commercial. "Later," I said. Mantel set a frosty one in front of me, and we fell silent and watched the action.

A few minutes later Lecavalier carried the puck out from the end boards and tried to stuff it through Cam Ward. Cory Conacher followed and banged the loose puck through Ward's five-hole. We cheered. Mitoko hugged Carter, and then punched him in the kidney when he wouldn't let go.

The Lightning carried the play through the first, but saw the second turn in the Hurricanes' favor. Ryan Malone completely smoked Eric Staal into the boards, and the 'Canes scored 20 seconds into the man-advantage; Jeff Skinner managed to lift a backhand over Matty Garon at the end of a long goalmouth scramble. The momentum from the goal carried the Carolina team through the rest of the second period.

The third went back the Lightning's way. Keith Aulie moved the puck up the boards and snapped a shot past Ward, who was partly screened. A Malone power play marker a few minutes later was icing on the cake, and the Lightning improved to 2-1-0, with only 45 games left to play.

"So, fruitcake?" Ramone said as the broadcast came to an end. "You gonna give us your picks and show us all again why you're the worst fantasy hockey prognosticator this side of Panama City?"

"With pleasure," I said. Mantel slid a complimentary triple across the bar and I began laying out the good stuff.

Vincent Lecavalier: I'ma be real and say this will be a bounce-back year for the Captain of 1000 games. 48 points in 48 games, based on 16 goals and 32 assists. "What?" No, really. He's started out like a domination beastie, and has apparently been working on his glutes, which is important because tall, slender men usually have no ass. And you need a strong ass to win hockey games. Trust me, I'm a hockey blogger. Also, he might actually have some talent on his lines this year (I'm looking at you, Stephen Veilleux, Alex Tanguay, etc).

Steven Stamkos: Stammer or "Tampa Bay's other good center" as I sometimes call him, will also perform well this year. I'm going to say 54 points, off 32 goals and 22 assist. He will also have two (2!) fighting majors this year, neither of which will be classics, but you know, kids will be kids. And strangely, he won't seem mad either before, during, or after the fights. His emotions will range between happy, laid back, competitive, and winded but undaunted.

Martin St. Louis: Despite the rumors that "age make you less awesome," Marty will continue being way more awesome than is even fair. How awesome? More awesome than the first twenty-five times you had sex combined, which were all mostly so-so if you're being honest with yourself. How many points? 51, including 19 goals and 32 assists. He will once again make us ask the famous question: "How can he skate so fast with such an impressively large manhood?" This guy rules.

Cory Conacher: If there was a way to try and re-create Marty St. Louis in some kind of lab experiment, you might end up with Co-Con: a small, undrafted, fast, talented, ultracompetitive forward that the Lightning are going to wring hundreds of points from. He's started off with five points in the first three games. But rookies cool off, you know? 47 points. 21 goals, 26 assists. And? And? Yeah, Calder Trophy. Which would make two Calders in a row for him (the first being last year's AHL championship trophy).

Ryan Malone: He'll get hurt and miss ten games but will still manage to pile up 11 goals and 17 assists for 28 points. Then he'll come back for the playoffs, continue to play with even more injuries and still be somewhat effective, which we'll be really impressed by, even though we kinda wish he could just keep his body together for one lousy season. Also, he'll beat the shit out of someone that nobody will expect. Who? Stay tuned.

Benoit Pouliot: Ah, the new guy. Well, he'll have some talented forwards to play with, as long as he does his job. I'll say ten and ten for twenty points, and then maybe a new contract in the summer.

Teddy Purcell: Will continue being the only person I like named Teddy. Also, he'll continue his upward scoring trajectory and end up with 42 points. 17 goals, 25 assists, including a hat trick. Against whom? WHOM, you ask? I can't tell you everything. (whispering: Ottawa)

Adam Hall: Will get nine points (4-5-9) and will feel damn lucky to get them. Coach Guy Boucher will feel lucky (and surprised) to get them as well. Hall will kill a lot of penalties and do defensive stuff like that really well, but won't be considered for the Selke trophy, because, you know, you have to be a point-a-game offensive player to get nominated for best defensive player.

Nathan Thompson: Will have a breakout offen-ha-ha-ha-ha... oh lordy. I couldn't even finish. No really, like Hall, Thompson will have a great defensive year and will get like, seven points or something. Great guy.

B.J. Crombeen: Will punch a lot of people in the face and yet face no jail time.

Sami Salo: Will score five power play goals and then get really badly hurt. You will never have even heard of the body part that this man is going to injure.

Eric Brewer: He's already scored two goals this season, so he might end up with... three? Eight points.

Matt Carle: Hmmm. I'm losing steam here. Um, 7 goals, 12 assists, 19 points. There, that wasn't so hard.

Victor Hedman: 4 goals, 12 assists, 16 points, one embarrassing fight, and one concussion, but he won't get it during the fight which only involves slapping and uncoordinated half-punches from both combatants.

Enough! What do you want, my blood? I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

My On-Off Love, Ennaichelle (NHL) Gets Out Of Lock-Up (Maybe)

I was sitting on a cafe patio sipping black coffee with an copy of one of Nietzsche's grimmest, most depressing works open in front of me. I'd spent the morning walking across long bridges and gazing down at the swirling dark water far below, and wondering about Sweet Death's Last Caress, but I finally decided to just get some cake and coffee. It had been a bad morning. One bad morning in a long, bad winter.

"Hullo, Nolan! Is that you?"

My friend, Carter J. Lizardman, pulled out a chair and sat down across from me. He was wearing sunglasses and a rakish hat, with a scarf hanging gaily from his scaly green neck.

"Hello, Carter," I said. "I hope the day finds you well."

"Better than you, I think," he said, smiling a toothish smile. "I gather you're depressed."

"What makes you say that?" I said.

"Call it a hunch," he said. "The black coat, the black turtleneck, the black beret, the... are those Popeye cigarettes?"

"They're not allowed to call them cigarettes anymore," I said. "Now they're Popeye candy sticks." I shook one out of the pack and offered it to Carter but he declined. I shrugged and took a bite.

"Also, you're drinking coffee alone on an outdoor patio in January. What has you feeling so low, my friend?"

I sighed. "These are strange days, Carter," I began. "Perhaps you've heard of my on-again, off-again love, the one called Ennaichelle? Pronounced like N-H-L?"

Carter sat back in his chair and smiled a grim smile. "I have heard of Ennaichelle, yes. I've heard she's a difficult one to love at times. She's away right now, is she not?"

I nodded. "She is."

He waved a lizard-hand to the server and ordered his own coffee. "Tell me, my friend, how is it that you are so tangled up with such a difficult lover as Ennaichelle?"

I laughed and shook my head. "You know how it is, Carter. When she's at her best, there's no one better. But at other times..." I put another Popeye candy stick between my lips. "We met in high school, you know. We were introduced by friends. Our first year was exciting, although I admit I didn't see much of her. That was the 1993-94 school year. I remember the spring of that year, when Ennaichelle showed me some of the most exciting times of my young life. That was..." A tear touched the corner of my eye. "Well, you know how it is to remember the early moments of young love."

"Of course," he said. "Go on. What happened?"

"That fall, I learned that Ennaichelle had problems of her own. She hadn't talked about them before. I don't know what it was. She never told me, but in October of '94, she was locked up," I snapped my fingers, "just like that. Was it shoplifting? Drugs? I never found out."

Carter shook his head. "That's terrible. I never knew."

"Yes. She came back that January, and for a while thing were the same as before. Exciting... but I felt like things were slowing down. The spring was fun, but as the next few years went by, things started to feel... I don't know, dead somehow."

"It happens."

"Then I finished university and moved overseas," I continued. "Ennaichelle and I kept in touch, mostly over the internet. I guess I missed her, but I was so busy, there was so much else going on in my life."

"People drift apart," Carter said.

"Yes, but in 2004, as I was preparing to come home, I started hearing more and more about the exciting things that were happening in Ennaichelle's life! I was so excited to see her again! And when I got back, it was such a magical time, and I remembered how much I'd loved her all along! Oh, Carter, it was bliss! It was love and magic!"

Carter smiled. "What happened next?"

I flicked the butt of the candy stick away. "She was locked up again. All that love, Carter. All that love, just..." I shook my head. "She spent the whole year calling me, telling me she'd be back any time, and I kept believing her. Like a fool, I kept believing."

"I understand," Carter said. "I always fall in love with train wrecks too. Did you ever meet me ex, Emellbee? But anyway, tell me what happened next."

"She was back the next fall. She'd spent a lot of time working on herself. She was cleaned up, sexier than ever, faster, more exciting, but somehow, more dangerous. Even as I watched her, I felt as though someone could get seriously hurt at any moment. But I never for a moment thought that it would be me."

"What do you mean?"

"She went away again this fall," I said. "I don't know why. Fraud or something. Grand theft. I never really understand the charges, even when they're explained over and over again by a bunch of guys who sound smart on TV. She just went away again, and just like last time, she keeps calling to say she'll be back soon, she'll be back soon..."

"So? Do you think she'll be back?"

"Maybe. I think so. I don't know." I looked my friend in the eye. "The thing is, I'm not sure I want to see her right now, do you understand? I feel so hurt. I feel like a fool, betrayed again and again..." I wiped another tear from my eye. "I just... I just don't feel the same way about her anymore." I paused to blow my nose.

"Do you know what I'm really afraid of?" I went on. "I'm afraid of the moment when she's back, standing in front of me, and maybe she'll say something like 'I'm sorry,' or 'Thank you for waiting for me.' What will I say back? Will I even be able to look her in the eye?

"And the moment will come when she'll put on an outfit, she'll dress up in something fancy and turn down the lights, and she'll start moving back and forth in front of me, and will I even care? Will I watch? And if I watch, will it just be because I feel like I'm supposed to? Or will I watch because I still love her?"

"Love is a horrible beast," Carter said.

"I miss the old Ennaichelle," I said. "But I just don't feel the love I once did. I know I'll still pay attention to her, but it will just be out of habit."

Carter looked at me. "What will you say if she asks? What if she asks if you still love her?"

I stared up at the grey sky. "I don't know," I said. "Ennaichelle has never asked if I love her. She always just assumed. I guess she could just tell."

I laughed. "Maybe that's why she treated me so badly."


(@nolanwhyte)