Since I can barely string a coherent thought, here are some hits from the Coop.
My reaction to last 15 seconds of Rangers and Capitals game.
(In response to my begging him to come on the Gal For All Seasons podcast)
Holy Sheepshit and Balls commentary!
One of the drawbacks of being a hockey and baseball fan is that if one sports is in the playoffs, it impacts the start of the season of the other.
In fact, I gave up following basketball because of the conflict it would provide between hockey playoffs. See, back in the 1990s, I used to follow the Utah Jazz, mostly for the John Stockton and Karl Malone combo. Once they retired, I kind of lost interest. Then again, the strike in hockey kind of threw me off for a while. Then the Mets collapsing two years in a row brought me back.
Now, it’s special. I’m married and as irony would have it, he’s a Utah Jazz fan. He never cared much for hockey till I started making him watch. So I guess it’s up to me to be the open one, and allow him to watch the basketball games on television. They are in this market though, so it’s not often.
Till the crazy threes happened recently. The Rangers are in the playoffs, and making it interesting. The Mets are also an interesting and fun team to watch, and we’re both big baseball and Mets fans. And then, there’s Maude, or rather, the Utah Jazz. See, they were in the playoffs too. Unfortunately, they were eliminated last night.
But the weekend proved interesting. Our two year wedding anniversary was on Saturday, coincidentally, it’s also Cinco de Mayo (because we need an excuse to drink margaritas on our anniversary). This year was also nuts because hubby, being a comic book geek, had Free Comic Book Day, which falls on the first Saturday of May every year.
Tom Seaver Bobbleheads being brought into the Jackie Robinson Rotunda prior to the game.
It was also Tom Seaver bobblehead day for the 4 pm start at CitiField, and the Rangers were playing the Capitals at 12:30 pm. Throw in the Utah Jazz later that night, and we had ourselves a party.
To say it was a busy day would be an understatement.
It started with me picking up breakfast from our favorite diner to bring to him as he waited in line at comic book day. Because the line was very long about 2 hours before the place opened, they started to let people in earlier than the open. So we were able to bring breakfast to the park and eat like normal people, and not on the sidewalk.
From there, though, we had some time to kill. It was off to CitiField to hang at McFadden’s to claim our seats for the Ranger game.
The first two periods flew by, but I needed to actually go into the stadium twice.
A friend couldn’t make the game, so I needed to pick up a ticket for him that he called in for me, and I went into the stadium, twice. Even as I found out the Rangers lost.
Son of beech. Sheet.
From there, we met up with some friends who wanted to buy us celebratory margaritas. How could we say no? From there, it was to the Taqueria to get our margs, and from there, to our seats. Then there’s the game. Which took FOREVER and a day to finish, but it finished.
But since we were running around since the word “go” in the morning, our Cinco de Mayo/anniversary celebrations were cut short by me after the Mets game.
In fact, I was up in the Caesar’s Club for the last few innings to stay warm and recharge my batteries, both on my phone and for myself. Plus hubby was able to find a Nieuwenhuis shirt in the bullpen store on the Excelsior level…I just want to point out there were plenty there, but you still can’t find Niese.
I was just so friggin tired. Plus, the Jazz was game was on at night, and he wanted to watch. Which hubby was more than happy to eat tacos and tortilla chips from the local greasy taco spoon and watch.
So for those of you keeping track at home, Saturday was Rangers – L, Mets – W, Jazz, – L.
Leading to Monday, it was a three-peat of extraordinary measures. The Mets game was starting at 7, Rangers 7:30, and the Jazz somewhere around there (needless to say, their preference was a little low on the totem pole…sorry honey).
The Mets game looked like it was going to be annoying, a Roy Halladay start, and Jonathon Niese not his normal self at first (but he recovered, thank goodness). I thought we were lucky to get A hit let alone a run. I mean, it’s Halladay.
But things got interesting. When I turned on the Ranger game, the Mets started to come back and they tied the game after being down 2-0. Meanwhile, the Rangers allowed to be tied at one point, 1-1.
The Jazz were in the background, on the computer, with hubby following the CBS Sports scores. Since between hockey intermissions, we turned the Mets game back on.
Something funny happened on the way to the Garden though. Early in the third period, the Capitals went ahead 2-1. The Rangers meanwhile decided to do their best impression of Ice Capades. But here’s the kicker though. For me, though I watched the game, and I wasn’t very happy with how the Rangers were playing, I had an eerie sense of calm over me. Like, I wasn’t worried. I figured, even if the Rangers lost, they’d just win the next two games. THAT’S HOW MUCH I BELIEVE IN THE TEAM.
But then there’s Maude…
A penalty working in the favor of the Rangers? Just seconds away from regulation being done? Brad Richards, king of the last minute dramatics, scores the tying goal, and I was never happier to see overtime, ever.
I told my husband to not turn the Mets game on just yet. I guess I was being paranoid, like, I didn’t want the goal to be waived off because I turned off the game. Yes, I’m weird.
But then, Twitter blew up in my Mets people. “JORDANY VALDESPIN!” “SHADES OF OMIR SANTOS.” Most Mets fans remember when Omir Santos took Jonathan Papelbon to school in 2009, when he hit a go-ahead home run in the 9th inning, leading to a blown game opportunity for Papelshmir.
I yell, “Ohmygoodness, honey, turnonthemetsturnonthemets TURN ON THE METS!!”
He had no idea. He was shocked, I was like – whoa. Imagine how happy he’d be if the Jazz won?
The Jazz, meanwhile, were one game away from elimination from the San Antonio Spurs, who had thus far dominated the series. Meanwhile, I was just glowing from the Rangers.
I knew, then, that I must have felt some kind of energy. Like, it would be okay for them no matter what.
Then. It happened.
Marc Staal scores the game winning goal, overtime is over, and the Rangers are suddenly up three games to two, and it’s like 1986 all over again for me.
I related that last night’s win was like Game Six for the Mets vs Red Sox. It was to an extent that I had given up hope that the Rangers would win, they would head into DC losing the series, and they would have to lean on the flair for the dramatics.
Not anymore.
The Mets won, the Rangers won…The Jazz, sadly, lost their game and the season last night. But it’s okay.
I mean, maybe not for hubby. But at least now, we won’t have to worry about fitting that crazy three into our schedule now.
They say two’s company, but three’s a crowd. And perhaps in a way it’s like that for spring sports, especially if you have many horses in different races.
We had several ways to get these games, get these scores, but we managed to make it work. And make it fun too.
There’s only one Captain, someone told me. Actually, many have told me that.
But Mark Messier, as celebrated as he is within New York Ranger culture, is and was a mercenary. I know we hate to think of him that way but truth is, he was celebrated and a champion well before he ever came to the Rangers.
I don’t want to take anything away from what Messier brought to the Rangers those years, especially in 1994. I don’t think the Rangers win a goddamn thing without him. The Rangers were a storied franchise before he came to the team, yet he brought a certain something that brought them to the next level.
But for the love of Emile Francis, Ryan Callahan needs to have his Mark Messier moment. And he needed it yesterday.
On my pre-playoff podcast, I discussed with Kevin DeLury from NYRBlogs and Nick Montemagno from Ranger Tribune, that I expected a big series from Captain Cally.
It’s going to take a lot for Ranger fans to accept someone into that cherished Captain fold. It certainly wasn’t Kelly Kisio nor Chris Drury. As beloved as he is, Brian Leetch was never fully accepted into the captain mold. Leetch unfortunately had big shoes to fill. Because he was on the storied ’93-’94 run, it was almost like more was expected of him. Leetch = great player, not a captain.
Callahan is the heart and soul of this team. We point to how blue collar and the hard work ethic that he and John Tortorella have brought to this team. While mercenaries like Marian Gaborik and Brad Richards are supposed to add to the goal scoring capabilities of the team, we point to Henrik Lundqvist and his intensity, to guys like Brian Boyle and Brandon Prust for being young upstarts. But Callahan is Mr. Ranger, the guy you look to in these times, when the team heads back to Ottawa for a one game playoff and hope to get that one more win to have home ice that one last time. The reason, you know, for game sevens to exist.
I can’t say it’s happening.
So in the first round, I’m wondering if Cally will have to break out a page from the Book of Messier, where he said, “We will win tonight.”
Is that too dramatic? It may be. After all, some people may be happy with the way the season went and take the playoffs as rationalizing that whole “it’s about who gets hottest at the right time,” that the Rangers have laid the foundation for years to come and blah blah blah.
That’s just fucking bullshit, as far as I’m concerned.
I want all that but I want them to fucking grab the bull by the balls and kick the Senators’ ass all the way. They should have by now. They are not.
I’m saying that anything less than an Eastern Conference final visit is a failure for this season. They have the goods to do it. They just need to see Lundqvist can’t do it all on his own.
That means it’s time for Captain Callahan to wake the fuck up and slap these fuckers into reality.
It’s down to two games now. Let’s do it already.
Yes, I know there are other teams in the hockey playoffs…but it’s round one, we just finished the regular season, and I need some New York Ranger fix pronto! If you don’t like it…join the chat room to heckle me and my guests.
I’ll be joined by Nick Montemagno from Ranger Tribune and Kevin DeLury from the NYR Blogs, two of the best Ranger blogs out there.
We’ll be going live at 7 pm ET tonight, join me at the Gal For All Seasons podcast on NDB Media at BlogTalkRadio!!
Topics include: regular season finish, John Tortorella, rivalries, predictions for Rangers and first round.
The Holy Sheepshit and Balls Videocast is up for the week!
Topic: Holy Sheepshit and Balls, the Rangers are actually really good this season. Looking forward for more Holy Sheepshit and Balls moments in the playoffs!
We’re hitting the home stretch of regular season hockey games, especially for the Rangers as it seems they are playing a game every other day. Originally, I had two games to go to: Sunday, March 11, and Friday, March 23. Also odd because I rarely do two games in a month, much less miss a month of live games. That’s what happened this year. I had tickets to the Rangers/Devils game in February at home, but I sold my tickets for a hefty ransom. Hey, if I can make some money off the supply/demand issue at those games, I’ll take advantage of it.
But then I had a friend who came into town this weekend. Our story is kind of funny, like many in this world. We went to school together. We had a lot of the same friends, but I don’t remember hanging out with her solely. (If I did, I apologize, ha ha). I didn’t know she was a Rangers fan till a few years ago, when we reconnected on Facebook, as many are wont to do, especially due to our mutual friends. Another layer that added to our friendship was that we were long distance runners; I’m still a novice, she’s definitely more experienced (not to mention, faster!) than I am. She gets the intensity that goes into both the fan perspective and being an accidental athlete.
This is my friend Aimee. When she found out she was chosen in the NYC Half lottery, like I was, she needed a place to stay. ***HI!!!*** But it’s all good. I love having guests and if I can help them save some money and stay in a cool neighborhood, that works for me (they also need to like cats though but that’s no problem for Aimee – she has three).
Anyway, a few weeks before the half, Aimee realized that the Rangers were playing a home game the night before the race. She decided that though we like to keep things low key the night before a race, she rarely makes visits to the city anymore for games, and she couldn’t give up an opportunity to go to a game when she happened to be in town.
So then, there were three. Three games, for me, in the month of March now.
Originally I had planned on writing about this recap after the game on he 23rd. Yet, the two games had such differentials that I felt the need to go over it now. The first game was a dramatic overtime win with the help of the RUN-BMC line (Brad Richards, Marian Gaborik and Carl Hagelin) and most specifically an almost literal last second goal in sudden death by Gaborik.
The game on Saturday was almost a killjoy. Former Washington Capital goalie now on the Colorado Avalanche, Semyon Varlamov, absolutely stupified Rangers goal scorers. I forget the exact amount, but it was like 41 shots-on-goal to the Avalanche’s like 20. I am not joking. Henrik Lundqvist had a bad game, by giving up two goals. The Rangers offensive unit was worse and couldn’t help their goalie. Turns out this wasn’t the first time Varlamov has done this to the Blueshirts. During the game Aimee had asked that question, whether he had given us trouble in the past. Well, the answer was yes. And the worst part was that Mats Zuccarello’s first goal was almost forgotten because of the unprecedented performance.
We didn’t let that bad news get us down for our race Sunday morning. We had to be at Central Park before 7 am, so for runners with rituals, we need to be up earlier than THAT. By 5 am, we were up and at ’em, George McFaddam. And you know, the Rangers loss didn’t translate into a grumpy run for me. My friend Chuck always says that he likes when I run angry. I don’t know if I’m necessarily an “angry” runner. I know when people piss me off on the course, I get that way.
The corral took over 40 minutes to even get to the starting line. By 8:15 I was heading to the first mile.
Roughly, the first half of the course takes place in Central Park, killer hills and all. I train there, though, so I feel like I have an advantage to some who don’t train there. Of course, if you’re a good runner and fast, then you have all the advantage in the world!
The course brings you through the heart of Manhattan – Times Square, then runs downtown to South Street Seaport. I admit to dragging but I knew my husband would be meeting me at designated places on the course, with some words of encouragement and photos. Mostly, with bears.
If you don’t follow my husband on Twitter, or on his blog, you should be. He’s one of the most generous and creative people I’ve ever known. I often say that he serves as my personal assistant, water boy and photographer for my races. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’m not sure I’d do the same thing. But he brought along three bears to cheer me on — Angel, a Mets bear; Nicky, the running bear; and Gabby, the Ranger bear.
Gabby greeted me at Mile 12 with this sign.
I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw it (hence the picture next to it). Needless to say I had a big smile on my face, and I knew even though I was dragging, getting to Mile 13 would be a piece of cake because I had the back wind and momentum to power me forward.
I run to a music mix of Paul McCartney’s greatest hits, Abbey Road, Sgt. Peppers, and usually it brings me to Paul McCartney and the Wings’ Band on the Run. The second song of my music mix is Jet, and the second song on the Band on the Run album is the same. So I hear some of the same songs twice. Not to worry though, as these songs are welcome and I don’t get sick of them. But I was being guided into the finish line by Jet once again.
When I saw my husband and my friend snapping my pics at the end, I was inspired. I was inspired by the song, by the runners, by my sports affiliations. Before each Jets game, some of the players go out, looking like planes and zooming onto the field. So I do that.
Sometimes my teams disappoint me. Yet I believe in momentum and that power that carries you forward into the finish line for every season, every day, in every part of our lives. The Jets gave me a bit of inspiration, the Mets have shaped my life, and the Rangers have made it possible for me to be thankful that I am a sports fan at this point in my life.
There are things in life that give you momentum. For me, the running has given me a distraction from the daily stuff in life that could keep me down, like rejection. Other times, sports have given me the opportunity to connect with people I never would have, or reconnect with people I’ve known for a long time but on a different level.
These pictures represent the fact that sports has brought to me some of the most special people I’ve ever met, or brought me to another level with others. Both of the women in the pics with me were brought together, on some level, from sports. Sharon for baseball, Aimee for hockey. Then all three of us are runners, and we are each others own support network!
Thank you New York, and thank you sports!
How did the Rangers get so many delicious Swedes on their team?
Besides our King Henrik, one of the unsung heroes of this year’s team has been the young Carl Hagelin from Sveeden, ya? Hagelin has been getting his due, being named to the NHL All-Star Rookie Roster, and narrowly edging out Colin Greening on the Ottawa Senators (in his hometown for the All-Star Game!) in the fastest skater competition last night. He won’t let this go to his head, these titles are more for the bragging rights of fans anyway (which is why I’m writing about it).
Described as a “precocious rookie” by the Daily News, Hagelin joins his countryman Lundqvist along with Marian Gaborik and Dan Girardi in Ottawa to represent the Rangers in the All-Star Game. In the short-time I’ve seen him though, I’ve walked away very impressed with Hagelin’s skills on his skates and how he can surprise the competition by coming out of nowhere.
Hagelin seemed to click right away with the Rangers’ senior offensive players, like Gaborik (who, in all fairness, has been clicking with everyone this year). The New York Times provided some good insight into how Hagelin has come into his own in the NHL, given his background and gritty work ethic from his days at University of Michigan. I’d say 16 points in 29 games, that’s pretty impressive for a young dude. The law of averages will give us a better idea of what he can do later on. You can look at it from both sides of the equation, though. Does he have great support around him? Yes, of course. He also seems to be a victim of being young, but in a good way. It seems like whenever I watch him, I don’t doubt he’s going to do something daring, and when he does it usually benefits the team.
I’m really liking this team right now that the New York Rangers got going on for them. I love the tough “I-Don’t-Give-A-Shit” attitude from John Tortorella. I love the hard-work, blue-collar ethic that these guys show by example, like Captain Cally, Gabby, Henrik, Del Zotto and Girardi. Just this nose-to-the-grindstone stuff that fans can really get behind. Hagelin fits right into that ethic. His teammates at Michigan and coaches all agree that he’s a tough player and went above and beyond.
I’m excited to see how Hagelin pans out. I love watching rookies as they want to pay their dues, and do so by good old fashioned hard work. Go Hagelin. And Go Sweden. Perhaps we can share in some Swedish meatballs and lingonberries some day soon.
I have to admit, when in December I saw people standing around Time Warner Center (at Columbus Circle here in NYC) with signs protesting a future “break” of Time Warner with MSG, I didn’t think much of it. Although I am a Time Warner customer, I thought for sure they wouldn’t or couldn’t be that stupid…that a midnight deal would be at hand certainly.
Of course, I was wrong. On January 1, 2012, MSG went dark on Time Warner. Not to fret, the channel wasn’t totally dead, but they introduced an NBA channel. I guess that was a double-whammy for me: I don’t like basketball all that much, and they screwed me with my hockey.
I wasn’t totally hopeless. For the most part, Time Warner did what it was supposed to do, and I figured they wouldn’t be gone long. We’re more than half-way into the month, and still nada. I haven’t been able to find much headway into how the negotiations are, but at the end of the day, I haven’t felt more screwed as a customer. I pay you, goddammit. You should bring me what I need. If you think about it, look at what these asses are arguing about: MONEY. Like sports/entertainment/media channels or owners are hurting for that.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…and taking away her hockey games to boot. I took matters into my own hands, and in a few hours, I will be a new RCN customer. This has SNY, MSG and MLB and everything a gal for all seasons could possibly want. With their three-year locked in prices, I wonder what took me so damn long to switch over.
Well, Time Warner, it was nice knowing ya. You really didn’t give me though what I need or anything over the top that no one else can provide. So take your little WAR with MSG and stick it. You lost a customer, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. Now if only our owner would stop making claims about Stanley Cups. After all, it’s something of a tease when a majority of your fanbase cannot watch the games on TV because you and other cable owners are too much of an asshole to get stuff done.
A little bit of loyalty goes a long way...for fans AND players.
I was 13 years old when I first had my heart broken. True story. My dad called me after school one day and said, there’s a rumor the Rangers might trade Tony Granato.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT????? I had to calm myself down and take a walk around my suburban neighborhood. I had become a Ranger fan for good earlier that year (1989), when my dad took me to see some dude named Mario Lemieux play for the Pittsburgh Penguins against the New York Rangers, where another dude named Brian Leetch scored a shorthanded goal. Hard to believe I was sitting in an arena with future hockey hall of famers, yet when I was thumbing through the program I saw two pictures that made my heart soar as a teeny-bopper 13 year old: Tony Granato and John Vanbiesbrouck. Granato was also another rookie who came up along with Brian Leetch — defenseman of the future — and Beezer was a fan fave.
But to trade *my* favorite player and the hottest guy on the team? Heart wrenching. I could only imagine what my mom might have gone through when the Beatles broke up, as a girl of 14.
Yet, it prepared me. Granato was traded, and the Rangers ended up winning the Cup a few years later on the back of hard workers like Mark Messier, Mike Richter, Adam Graves and Brian Leetch. Leetch, who should have been a Ranger-lifer, was traded in the last few years of his career, but still came back to hoist his number to the rafters.
Cutting ties with Beezer was easier to take when it happened (especially since I loved Mike Richter). When my crush Gregg Jefferies was traded for Bret Saberhagen, my dad called me to break the news. Expecting a shriek, I said, “Well, it’s Saberhagen. He’s good.” My objectivity kept me grounded. And I learned to not get attached to certain players.
And that my friends, is our lesson of the day: you root for the name on the front of the jersey, not on the back.
Gone are the days, as Frank at NY Fan in South Jersey, of the Cal Ripkens and Tony Gwynns of the world: baseball greats who are synonymous with the teams for which they played. I don’t count the Yankees’ “core” of Jorge Posada, Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera because they overpay for the first two and Mo is a freak of nature. Pretty much, we have the Houston Astros, whose Craig Biggio and Jeff Bagwell (to a lesser extent Lance Berkman) who are all over the leaderboards for the team but were also there for a generation, and Atlanta Braves’ Larry Jones. Don’t give me the “Big Three” as an example: Tom Glavine left for the hated Mets (to them, not to me, of course) at one point and Greg Maddux, hypocrite who wanted to stay with the Cubs but opted for money, fame and championship caliber baseball in Atlanta. Not like I can blame him. I’m sure many of us would do the same thing.
The concept of the “hometown discount” is dead. I would say you heard it here first, though many on Twitter said so today and even our very own Metstradamus said as much yesterday. The Mets lost Jose Reyes, but this isn’t a team known for cultivating their own talent and keeping their homegrown players. It should not surprise us nor should it be unexpected that this would happen. Steve Keane at Kranepool Society said that he knew the Mets wouldn’t sign Reyes, and as he said a few months ago on our Kult of Mets Personalities podcast, that he actually thought Alderson HOPED someone would give Reyes a six-year contract. Someone did, and we see the fallout from that. We can only hope that it turns out to be a 20/20 hindsight good move.
Yet, I was surprised…nay, SHOCKED, really…that Albert Pujols left the Cardinals. Yes, I know he and the Cards couldn’t come to an agreement before the season. But I also know that people counted the Cards out when Wainwright was hurt. And hey, did you hear who won the World Series this year?
But raise your hand if you thought if there was such a thing as “company loyalty” left in baseball, there was such a thing as a “hometown discount,” that Pujols would have typified that. **RAISES BOTH HANDS AND FEET** Yeah, I am that chick. I hear all these great stories about the fans in St. Louis, how loyal they are, how every player LOVES playing there, no one ever wants to leave. Even careers get rejuvenated in St. Lou. Look at Berkman, who seemed like he left his best years behind in Houston. Even though Pitchers Hit 8th told me that Pujols pretty much stated he wasn’t looking for a hometown discount, I didn’t believe it.
There is Larry Jones. There is Derek Jeter. But these guys are exceptions to the rule that the name on the back of the jersey does not trump the name on the front of the jersey (yet, if you talked to Jeter’s GM Brian Cashman last year, he made negotiations uncomfortable by telling Jeter to get another offer better than the one they were offering).
I was 13 years old when I learned my lesson. That you’re only as good as the team you play on, and if you can get a better return in value, then that happens too. I’m not saying we can’t get attached to our favorite players (I am accepting of losing Reyes, but I will still miss him and wonder “what could have been”), but if we realize that we root for a larger entity as fans — the “laundry” — we’ll save ourselves much pain and anguish in the long-run.
Ladies (and gentlemen, since I know there are many men who follow this site)…I introduce to you…the Classics FOUR!!! (Also known as Ryan Callahan, Dan Girardi, Henrik Lundqvist and Brandon Dubinsky)
The Winter Classics Four (photo credit to MSG Sports)
The ladies now have my permission to swoon (also, the men might too, but over the sweet jerseys). Oh, and this picture was taken at the unveiling of the jersey ceremony at Wollman Rink at Central Park on Monday. Oh, did I mention I ran right past that rink doing a three-miler yesterday and had no idea? Yeah, some fan *I* am. /sarcasm
Now, I have a bit of a dilemma here. Actually, it’s more of a command.
I NEED TO GO TO THE WINTER CLASSIC. It’s not a want. It’s a necessity. I need to be there.
Now, my husband chides me, because it’s not an exhibition, it’s just a “regular game.” But outdoors. In the cold. In Philadelphia. Nearby. It’s a special event. And my team is playing in it.
I NEED TO BE THERE.
So I am whoring myself out to whomever would like to offer their ticket to me. Now, I will pay for it. Problem is, I won’t pay $900 to sit in the 400 level for one goddamn seat. See, I’ll try to appeal to your sense and sensibility by saying…I am funemployed. Well, I may not be by then. But I am right now. I know tons of people going. But they are all committed to going with someone else. Bastards.
So I will need a nice person who would like to offer their ticket at face value (charge me 10% over if you want to *make* money off it), and I’ll be responsible for buying beer. Oh, and if you’re driving and don’t wish to drink, I’ll buy food…or your parking fees. Whatever. I want to go. Scratch that. I NEED TO GO.
So I can see these fine-ass men skating around in the cold and my nipples will be hard for reasons other than the cold.
Erm, was that too much?
I need to be there. Period. Someone help me make it happen. Kthxbye.
A Gal For All Seasons 