So I’m not at all disappointed with the Flyers this season, even less so with their performance in Detroit.  Maybe I’m star-struck, maybe I think too highly of the Red Wings, but consider who scored for the Wings tonight: Datsyuk, Zetterberg, Franzen, some guy named Kronwall, with help from Lidstrom and that guy Zetterberg again.  Wow.  He must be pretty good, that Zetterberg.

Zetterberg made me think of the Road Runner once.   It was a playoff series against Phoenix, and he left several Coyotes sliding down the glass after they tried to hit him.  “Eyes in the back of his head” I thought.  And Holmstrom? His extra eyes are somewhere else, even more unusual and very useful for screening a goalie.  Sometimes Bertuzzi borrows them.

Yes, the Wings had MacDonald in net, not their white hot number one Howard.  But they’re still the Red Wings.  They did just fine even while Howard was a baby goalie struggling along to find his way.  The Flyers took some heat for poor defensive play.  Well, they managed to outshoot the Wings.  That’s something.  And it was still a one goal game.  I don’t think anyone was injured, so they didn’t lose any players.  Well done. A for effort.

Timonen scoffed at the idea that they team is still finding its legs with all the young players.  Yeah, yeah, they’re all in the NHL now, they need to step up.  The truth is, a number of those youngsters have been in and out of the lineup, up and down from the Phantoms, have never had a real chance to find their best game with the big club.

That isn’t a knock on the coaching decisions.  Lavy has the players he has, they need playing time, they’ll get what’s available, in Philly or Adirondack.  You can’t hurry experience.  You can try but you will fail.  Read and Schenn are a little different, but not much.  Read is older than most guys with his lack of NHL time.  Schenn has spent too much time out with injury to be as seasoned as he might otherwise be.  The Kings didn’t rush him.

So the Flyers are what they are.  They cannot be ready sooner just because we want them to be.  They can’t find their chemistry faster just because they have some vets who are running out of time.

Talbot and Simmonds have been surprisingly helpful but they’re not going to carry the team.  Jagr, no matter what he says, is still hurt and should sit the hell down for several games.  Briere just came off a concussion.  Giroux can sometimes carry the team, with a hand from Hartnell, but not very often.  He’s just one guy and a team with any sense is going to shut him down.  Which shuts the team down.

So with all that in mind, I don’t feel at all let down by the Flyers losing to the Red Wings tonight, as Detroit sought to tie a record for home game wins.  On top of everything else, their health and skill and discipline, the Red Wings are feeling damn good about themselves.  No way, no way the Flyers were going to run away with that game.  I don’t think many teams could have.  I’m not sure very many teams would even make it a one goal game.

The Flyers have a long road ahead, can expect more bumps and turns along the way.  They didn’t just lose top players in their prime (well… age-wise Carter should be) last season.  They lost familiar faces with an understanding of Lavy’s system and the personalities in the room and a lot of NHL games under their belts.  Hell, even dumping Versteeg is starting to look dumb now.  When the Flyers made that run to the Finals two seasons ago, they didn’t just have a lot of those pieces still around.  They also had a high comfort level with each other.  They knew how to find each other on the ice and off it.

The Flyers are trying to find that sync point, that groove, I believe they really are trying.  I also think they are figuring it out, but I don’t think they can figure any faster just because the season is winding down.  How long should it take?  Ask the Red Wings.  Check out their turnover rate, see how many guys they move each season.  That would be a good measure of how to get quick-fire chemistry each season.

In the mean time, I think the Flyers are doing just fine, better than fine.  You can’t expect miracles, that’s why they’re called miracles.  There’s no reason to spit or kick dirt in the face of reasonable progress.  Some ask if one trade or even a couple will “fix” this team.  I’d say no.  I don’t think it needs that much fixing, and a little faith will go a long way to make something out of the players they already have.  I hope Holmgren has that faith and can act accordingly.

I wonder what it’s like, doing one thing professionally for so many years, working from the time you’re a child until you’re too old to do it anymore, working at the same thing.  They say that retiring can kill a man.  I think they mean men of advanced age, not someone under 50.  Evidently women don’t tend to die from big life changes.  But it’s still a shock, change always is.

I wonder if it is that different from doing things not professionally all your life.  Like writing, or riding, or playing music.  No one will give you a retirement ceremony if you quit doing something you did for no pay, even if you did it for 50 years.  No one will hold you to it if you say you’re quitting, they’ll figure you’re sick of it or that you’ll pick it back up again later.  Some things we do can be vital to our identity and never be recognized as something you might retire from.  So things we do that are part of our sense of self can be different from work that is part of our public identity.

During practice, the Sharks did a little drill I hadn’t seen before.  It was a simple thing, everyone carrying a puck around the rink and then changing direction on the cue of a whistle.  It reminded me of a flock of birds changing course.  Even though I could hear the whistle, the synchronicity of it was still marvelous.  I can’t think of any other team sport that has such beautiful exercises, no sport not involving horses anyway.

I think about it, for a while.  All right, there may be a lot of other beautiful sports, but I don’t care about those.

The team’s energy was good, a lot of whooping sounds, not only from Brent Burns.  The coach had a lot to say, commenting and pointing after every whistle, the players nodding and understanding before doing it again.

Most people don’t have the option to retire so young as Nolan (39 for a few more days).  I’m sure it’s better than facing the change later when you are less vigorous.  He has time to start a new profession for heaven’s sake… and even retire again.

Maybe retiring from pro hockey is more like graduation: end and beginning in one.  Retirement hasn’t quite gotten there yet, no matter what the investment firm ads tell you.  We still think of golf carts and bridge tables littered with doilies and petit-fours, or cruises, endless cruises and trips on buses.  That isn’t very accurate either, most of us don’t get all that and many won’t get to retire in any meaningful way at all.

But graduation?  That’s something most of us have been through at least once.  No matter how many streamers they throw, it’s still scary.  Maybe not knowing what comes next, or not understanding why this moment is so important, or not knowing what you are supposed to do in the morning anymore.  It’s all weird, unfamiliar.

In any case, we say “yay! That’s over!” instead of “oh crap, now what?”

I was relieved to be able to park easily at HP.  As I rounded the front of the building, I saw McLellan going through the main entrance.  I followed, after pulling on four different door handles before finding the unlocked one (the one the coach used, ahem…).  It’s important to mention that they are glass doors, so someone can watch you go along being stupid.  Said person was wearing a blue blazer and he looked apprehensive, so I knew he was hoping I wouldn’t try to run past him.  I asked which entrance we were supposed to use.  He told me, not that one, pointed me the other way.

I had a plan which became a habit of keeping a blazer and alternate top in my car in case I needed it, in case what I was wearing ever mattered again.  I broke that habit about a week ago, just in time to find myself grossly under-dressed for the press conference.  I wasn’t wearing a hoodie or anything but I did look raggedy.  I hadn’t even thought about it, it was so hard to get up and showered and dressed at all through the sickly haze of this sniffles thing.

Well, that has to happen at least once, right?  You have to show up dressed wrong, it’s like a rite of passage.

Of course when I got through the right door a fellow asked if my name was on his list.  I was sure it would not be.  I am most definitely an unlisted sort of person.  He had to call, let me sweat for a bit about whether I was allowed to be there, whether he was reporting on how I was dressed and deciding my fate.

I could not get satisfactory instructions on where to sit or stand.  I was told to sit in the second row where they had sheets of paper on the seats that said “Media.” That would not do, not looking like a homeless person and sneezing and coughing all over.  While I was trying to decide where to stand, since the unmarked seats in the back had not been identified as options for me, I was strangely unsurprised to see Jarome Iginla.  He was making his way through the crowd, shaking hands and leaning over to talk to children.  I didn’t understand why he was there, I just figured I was seeing white rabbits or something.

Wow but my tolerance for drugs and alcohol has really gone in the toilet.

I did eventually put it together, the Flames being in town, Nolan having been a Flame, Iginla being Flames captain… but for a moment, just white bunnies.

I found a place in the far corner, standing behind the seats with a nice booth barrier/plant holder to put my notebook on.  I made sure I was out of the way of everything with room behind me to go around the corner and blow my nose if need be.  I feel all safe here… wait, wtf are those cameras doing pointing in THIS direction?  The stage is over there, the other way!  Demmit, it would draw attention to run away.  Oh hell.  I’ll never be able to watch this thing online.

Dan Rusanowski gave a nice introduction to the ceremonies.  His use of “we” and “us” highlighted the strange relationship between the Sharks and their broadcast outlets.  I know, about half of the guys we see and hear are paid by the Sharks, and I really don’t have a problem with that.  It would be really hard to expect your average local sports news outlet to find someone who knows anything about hockey.  It’s just strange to have them be part of the mainstream media.

Wilson’s speech was good, it covered all the main points.  He’s a good speaker.  Nolan didn’t seem to be listening.  He might have been but his face didn’t show much reaction to any of it.  I wondered if he was here or somewhere else.

Do a lot of graduates cry at graduation, or is that only the parents/spouses etc?  I can’t remember.  I didn’t, I was just trying not to cough or sneeze, trying to keep my eyes averted from bright lights shielding the audience from view.  I never did really “get” the graduation thing, why it was so momentous.  I guess I’m too quick to move on to the next terrifying step.

Nolan spoke, he got choked up, so did I.  I may have been stoned out of my mind but my empathy gauge was working just fine.    I realized it’s a good good thing I wasn’t in the media row, right behind Nolan’s family who, I learned later, were crying.

Another close call there.

Nolan ended with a couple of funny anecdotes about teeth and stitches, about having all of the former and lots more of the latter.  His speech was short and sweet.  Bryan Marchment called in with congratulations, then Nolan’s agent Mike Barnett… I scurried away to hide a sneeze and got back in time to hear the call from a Canadian journalist who asked Nolan if he knows he’s the last of the Nordiques to retire.  I think Nolan said he didn’t know that.

That is an awesome bit of trivia to my clouded brain.

That brain is still clouded right now so I’m going to give up trying to make my tenses consistent.  Apologies.

I realize I’m seeing tv made, or made for internet tv or something.  Probably bits and pieces will show up on NHL Live and other sportscasts.  That is cool.

Thornton and Marleau present Nolan with a jersey in the new Sharks’ colors.  It has a captain’s C on it.

Geez, if I knew this would be the best photo I'd be able to find, I would've used my phone.

David Pollak is the only journalist from the floor to ask any questions.  He asks a second when no one else offers.  If this weren’t on tv I would have come up with something to ask. It is so awful when no one asks questions.  Bad media guys, bad slacker media.

Except for Pollak. Of course except for him.

I think there will be food and shmoozing available but adding my usual social anxiety to my impaired mental function, I decide I should go before I have a chance to breathe on anyone’s food.  That’s when I realize I may actually be sick.  I see a door nearby but there are fans outside.  I can’t use that door, what if they try to get in?  I can’t deal with that so I scamper past the food tables to the main exit.

What if I am contagious?  Good thing I didn’t sit in that second row.  Good thing I didn’t go around shaking hands and stuff… uh oh.  I did shake hands with a couple of guys at the front door.   What if they go around shaking hands?  And I touched door knobs!  I used the restroom, touched sinks and paper towel dispensers and more doors… oh my god.  I have killed the Sharks.  Scenes from Outbreak stretch out in front of me.  I have killed the Calgary Flames.  James Sheppard!  You poor boy, why did you you have to come today?  You might have escaped…

Wait, right… not dead.  Just sick.  So maybe I killed the Sharks’ playoff hopes.  And the Flames’… well, is Calgary really expecting to make it anyway?  I still feel badly.  I just wanted to see a press conference.

I am sure Typhoid Mary didn’t mean it.  She was just confused by the fever in her brain.

I was at the airport early for a flight that was delayed.  I was twice early.  The first early was because I misread my itinerary.  The flight number was 1145, the departure times not written with colons, so I was fueling up my rental car to turn it in around ten am.  That’s when I checked my voicemail and email and discovered that my 3:45pm flight was cancelled and I’d been reassigned to a 7:40pm flight. I was able to go away and come back early again because the car was still due by three.

I was going to remain calm because I had a hockey game to keep me entertained on my phone that would last almost three hours.  How bad could it be?

Hartnell’s hat trick left me fairly speechless.  Couldn’t think of anything beyond “mwah! mwah!”  He’s a funny guy.  For someone who gets into a lot of scuffles, he doesn’t really seem hot-headed.  I guess he should be, he’s an Aries, isn’t he?  But they’re not crazy hot-headed, just a little prone to spark.

The flight has now been pushed back about 40 minutes.  Who knows when I’ll get out of here.  May have to spend the night.

Because of the delay, I was able to go visit The Henry Ford, aka the Ford Museum.  That was fun.  The replica teenage girl room from 1987 was kind of eerie, but I never had a pink phone.

Got to the airport in time to start following this Flyers’ game.  Missed most of the 1st period, listened to much of it.  Then missed quite a bit of the 2nd trying to get a good connection on the phone.  Then there was security.  That interrupted my viewing.  All settled now in the Online Cafe at the Detroit Metro Airport.

I started to come unglued about now because I couldn’t get a waitress to give me the wireless code for about seven minutes.   A lot can happen in a seven minutes during a hockey game.  A very large beer settled me down.

The Flyers playing the Bruins is not unlike the Sharks playing the Canucks.  The Sharks are missing Clowe and perhaps Wingels but the Flyers really have them beat in the handicap area: missing Briere now as well as Jagr.  And still they have scored 5 goals against Tim Thomas and the yeller bears.  Pretty frikkin awesome.

As if overwhelmed by the tying goal in this game, Twitter crashed.  Can’t get in.  I find this aggravating.

So who scored those Flyers goals?  Talbot, Hartnell, Hartnell, Hartnell and Talbot.  The youngsters are doing well but I guess today is all vets.

Wow, one of these goalies is going to have to let in another goal, that will be six at least.  Wow, wow, wow.

I didn’t realize the Flyers and the Canucks were the only team in the NHL this season not to have a losing streak longer than 2 games.  That is pretty impressive.

The game went to OT, then a shootout.  I knew the Flyers were not great in the shooting part of the shootout but holy crap I didn’t expect Bryz to be so awful.  That was so depressing, it snuffed all the good out of the game and set me up to be very bitchy about the flight being pushed back another hour.

Once we were all on board, we sat.  And we sat.  We sat for two hours.  I was contemplating what sort of gift Delta would give us for being so patient with their mess.  And we sat.  I heard people nearby talking about the free booze we would surely be rewarded with for being so patient.  We sat.  Finally the pilot came on the pa system and told us we were waiting for catering to do their job.  We sat.  The pilot came back on to say the Niners were winning and the catering still was not sorted out.  He sounded a little pissed now.  We sat.  We sat and sat and sat until the pilot announced again that the Niners were still winning and we sat more.

We were still sitting when a woman near the back of the plane shouted that New York was winning.  The pilot did not announce this.  We sat.

We finally took off, without, it turns out, any booze or food at all.  So, no free booze.  No food.  Near the end of the flight, one of the attendants announced that we should all visit Delta.com to give “our side of the story” to the airline.  Our side of the story?  It’s pretty simple: we sat, we had no booze and what in the hell do we have to explain ourselves for?

Not even an airline voucher or Starbucks gift card.  Awesome job, Delta.  When we finally got to SFO, there was no one in sight.  the airport, after delaying flights all over the country because SF still can’t cope with fog or rain, packed up and went home.  I could have run off with many suitcases not my own, smoked in the terminal, danced on the security screening machines.  Not a soul in sight but one guy cleaning the carpets.  Lovely.

Way to go, San Francisco.  Apparently dropping the ball is a point of pride in SF.

After some sleep and reflection, I can appreciate that it was an impressive performance by the banged-up Flyers and I was very glad to finally see Philly and Detroit, especially their much better than SFO airports.

All in all, a very good trip.

It was welcome.  If you sit through three periods and an overtime, even if you do get up and move around during intermission, standing up for the last few minutes is a good idea.

I like the big painted row numbers on the stairs.  It’s silly to make people read little dainty numbers on seat arms.  Just paint them in big yellow digits on the floor.  It’s cheerful looking too.

I was so glad the Red Wings won.  Carter was out so even my soft spot for underdogs couldn’t make me want the Blue Jackets to win.  They lost, again by one goal.  The media gave Curtis Sanford the third star.  He deserved it, he had to stop a lot of shots to keep them in that game.

I was stunned by the ejection of Zetterberg from the game.  It was an awful wreck that sent Nikitin to the locker room on one leg, but it didn’t look like Zetterberg did it.  They don’t do penalty replays on the board there, so I couldn’t see it again but I swore I saw Nikitin going down on his own, and Zetterberg sort of slid into him.  I could have missed something.

One of things I told worried concerned parties I would not do in Detroit is walk around alone at night.   I was sincere when I made that promise.

In all my rushing around today to make a proper visit of the city today, I never got around to going to see where the Joe Louis Arena was, so when the time came to go find it, I was outside about to get my car when I saw some people in Red Wings jerseys walking by.  I decided to follow them instead of take the car.

Today’s lesson: when Expedia says your hotel is .3 miles away from something, they really do mean it is less than half a mile away.  In Downtown Detroit that is about four? Five blocks?  Not far at all.  Like a five to seven minute walk.  Really it would be an affront to all things good and ecologically responsible to drive your car that distance unless it was in driving sleet or 20 below, which it was not, here, tonight.

Because I am prone to doing things spontaneously, it didn’t occur to me until later that if I followed those cheerful, drunk, red-clad folk, and engaged them in conversation as you should do when tagging along, I might not remember how to get back.  So that gave me some anxiety during the first period, before I went outside during intermission and realized that even I could recognize landmarks that would guide me home.

Thank goodness the Red Wings won.  I got to see Mike Commodore play his old team.  He was sort of very nearby when the first CBJ goal was scored, but I am sure there was absolutely nothing he could have done about that… which opinion is probably worth very little.

You may not think that outhouses are suitable facilities for a public venue like the Joe Louis Arena, especially when it’s cold enough to chap your tush if you expose it to the elements.  I think they are an awesome idea.  Just like the guy selling beer to the smokers in Philly, here we had toilets for the smokers, and they were badly needed.  The lines were very long indoors.

I got my scarf.  I was disappointed that it had so much black in it, but it is a nice quality scarf and kept my neck warm on the walk home– an entirely uneventful walk home.  I didn’t even slip in the snow.

This morning I drove to the Motown Museum.  I did not know what to expect, but I did have a chance to tour around some back streets in the area, unplowed streets, and made a u-turn which was surprisingly slidey-sideways but not alarming.  It was a sensation I haven’t had in a while.  Anyway, I had some sat nav issues which led me astray.

When I did finally get parked in front of the museum and inside, I was lucky to arrive right at the beginning of a tour.  It was a lot of fun and fortunately the part where I discovered I could not sing and clap at the same time was at the end so it did not ruin the experience for me.  Wow was that a cold splash in the face with how-lame-can-I-be-embarassing.

I recommend the tour, but be warned, your multitasking and coordination skills will be tested at the end.  The tour itself was very well done.  They have some very good guides.

After that I went to Hockey Town Cafe.  It is conveniently next to the Fox theater, so if seeing that is on your list of things to do, you can do both.  I also tried to get into a church, because it looked old and was there, but it was locked.  I guess the Episcopalians don’t have the same open door policy the Catholics do?  Oh well.  It was pretty from the outside.

After that I took a stroll through the Auto Show which is a very big deal.  I don’t quite get it, I don’t have much of an eye for cars but it was good to check out, since it is a very big deal.  I saw some pretty cars and some odd cars and I have absolutely no idea what any of them would cost.   Here was my favorite, though I don’t think it qualifies as a car:

Well, maybe it isn’t my favorite exactly, just the most memorable.  I would never own the thing, it looks like it would trip.

The Sharks lost again.  What are we going to do with them?  I know, it was the Canucks, but if they can’t beat the Canucks… well, they have to beat the Canucks more.  A lot more.

Pavelski in a fight?  What in the hell was that?  This is too ridiculous.

I don’t understand what happened.  They were tied when I left to go to the game, but like fractious colts they got all tangled up, started fighting and tried to hang themselves as soon as I looked away.

What are we going to do with them?

They took my car away from me. That’s what valets do, they take your car away just when you’ve gotten to know it a little, have even started nesting as some people do in their cars.  I don’t know where they put it.

Before I talk about Detroit, I should back up a little.  There really isn’t much to say about Detroit yet except that I did find my way from the airport without crashing while driving and tweeting and emailing and texting… As if to reward me for this accomplishment, when I arrived, they gave me a cookie.  I would share a picture of said cookie but I ate it.

The cookie came in a bag. There's the bag. It says "The Cookie." Also shown, the Flyers pillow pet.

So, before today, before those awful games came to pass, I got a walking tour of Philly Flyers’ neighborhoods.  DGS walked me through Carter’s known party grounds, some nice neighborhoods where Leino used to live, and then back to where coaching staff and older married players might be spotted shopping.  I did not see any such, though my hotel was in that area.

We did not get to Temple.  I don’t pay much attention to scurrilous tales of adventuring hockey players, but it now seems unfair to have used Temple against Ritchie. If nothing else, chasing college girls ought to be applauded.  After all, they’re educated.

I liked that part of town which I will  call Olde Carter Town since the right name escapes me. The building height restrictions let in the light, and allowed the little buildings to shine.  They reminded me of movie sets, so easy they are to frame in your eye.  Inside them were risque clothing stores, ethnic fast foods, tattoo parlors (I think, seems like one should have been there) nail salons, bookstores, bars.  It was a little like the Castro or the Mission District.  It was right by the river with a view of Camden,New Jersey, a place that DGS says he avoids going at all costs.   Evidently they have a wonderful car accident trauma center in the hospital there.  That’s good to know, in case you get hit by a car in Philly.

It was a very pleasant afternoon after which I had to go buy shoes because my feet were in dire need of pressure on different points.  Some day I will learn, but if hobbling pain doesn’t teach me, what will?  In the mean time, I have a nice  new pair of boots to go with my nice new used wool coat I picked up for just under $18.

It is a hassle to meet people when they come to your town.  It’s easy when you’re the visitor, you don’t have anything else to do, you are in an adventuresome state of mind.  But when you are at home in work and routine mode, it is hard to break free and go meet someone, total stranger or not.  So I appreciate that most of the people I asked said yes.  I also have to note that the ones who did are Libras.  Maybe it’s a Libra thing to be curious about rovers and such.  I could be wrong about that.  @activestick44 may not be a Libra.

Of course they were much younger than me.  I say of course because as we get older our social circle shrinks, our datebook gets full, we don’t “meet” people online unless it is in a professional capacity.  Unless you’re like me, and I don’t think I’m that unusual.  Still, it seems that being married with children tends to interfere with your freedom to go exploring, in person or online.  That is too bad.

So it isn’t really age I’m talking about, just life stages and circumstances, but it feels like I’m talking about age.  This is probably because I’m a little obsessed with it lately, like that woman who accosted me in the hotel lobby, asking me to guess her age and the age of her companions.  I answered honestly, that she looked my age, which of course was the wrong answer.  I don’t know what the hell you are supposed to tell people when they ask you that.  Serves them right if they don’t like the answer.

Still, I do dwell on age lately.  At what age are we supposed to stop playing?  That comes up as a literal question a lot in hockey.  As a more general psychological query, I think we are sort of expected to stop playing much much earlier than professional athletes do.  We are supposed to get very serious and have important things to do which should take up all our time and keep our lives on a very rigid, sometimes grim schedule.

And yet we are not supposed to do any of that.  If you have children, you get to start playing all over again, you just have the excuse that it is for the children, not for you.  You are too old to play, even if you do benefit immensely from it.  So perhaps it is only the bachelors and spinsters who are supposed to not play.  Of course, they have no children, they are no fun.

Like CS Lewis.  So much crap he took for writing children’s books  without having children.  I think it’s funny, this cult of limited playing time for those without children.  Funny and also a load of bs.

Anyway, Philly is now on my list of favorite cities to visit.  It might be up there with Paris.  I might even go back, though I have resolved to never plan for a return.  If you want to do it, do it now.  So, I didn’t walk up the Rocky steps.  That wasn’t my idea anyway.  The only things on my list were to meet Twitter peeps, see the Flyers in their home rink, and look at the Liberty Bell.  I did all that and more.  No regrets.  Well, there’s one but I won’t complain about that here.

I also wanted to get a scarf (check) and a pillow pet for the unborn nephew Jack.  I could not find a pillow pet, had resolved I’d have to order one online, and then at the airport, there it was at Lids.  It was the last one in the store.  This a sign that Jack will be lucky, I think.  At least he will be lucky enough to get any fangear I decide he should have.

I thought a jersey would be of little interest to a tiny child, but a big soft pillow pet, now that would train the kid to associate the color orange and flying Ps with warm fuzzy feelings.  I will have to find a teal one before Jack is born, to give both teams equal time.

Yes, it is a brainwashing experiment.  Don’t tell my brother.

It’s snowing now.  I find that amazing.  It’s been a very very long time since I saw snow.  It brings back memories of Semily and people I won’t see again.  Strange how something like the weather can make you happy and deeply sad at the same time.

@petshark47: All right. Over *that* game. Next: Go #SJSharks.

Okay, I lied.  I am so not over that game.  Nabby is perfectly capable of winning a game, he didn’t need the Flyers to let him win.  I guess the blowout on Tuesday was too much for the Flyers to stomach.

Positives: Nabby looked so cocky and casual out there.  I swear he could have polished his boots between saves.  He got lucky a few times but not 40 times.  That’s how many saves he made.  Sure, the Flyers couldn’t screen him to save their lives, couldn’t seem to control the puck without all men on boards. If you let Nabby see it, he will usually stop it, and the more he stops the more he will stop. 

But the Flyers did shoot a lot.

So that was nice for Nabby and the Islanders need points, I guess, but it was still lousy for the Flyers and mostly for Bob.

I think I might be bad luck for Bob.  Tonight wasn’t at all like the Ducks game, except for what all the other Flyers were doing, which wasn’t much except stupidly getting into fights when they should not.  Giroux?  Seriously?  And Schenn?  Didn’t they have someone who did not just come back from a concussion who could do that, if it needed to be done?

Argh… but Bob looked great until the game fell apart.  He looked so bouncy and electric out there.  Even after the light went out, he stayed in the game but it wasn’t the same.  I swear I saw Nabby nodding after Bob made a nice clean save.  Hell, he was probably just adjusting his mask but I can imagine him wishing the kid well… maybe not wanting his team to win but still.  They have a lot in common.

Until the Islanders started scoring.. okay, even after that, I found myself smiling and muffling cheers every time Nabby made a save when he might not have.  I couldn’t help it.  I don’t know how the media decided to give Nabby just the 3rd star.  He did make 40 saves for a 4-1 win.

So then the Sharks do the same thing  and how can I not take that personally?  Have they been conspiring?  How ELSE do they both come up with 4-1 losses, the same night, just like they won 4-1 once last season? I don’t ask for much. They don’t have to give me presents or notice me at all, just don’t ruin my hockey fun with mean pranks like losing to Islanders and Sens on the same night.

Clearly, the only one I can count on is Nabby. 

I’m going to bed. To hell with packing.  I’ll do it in the morning.

So I put on my pointy heeled shoes which are usually comfy to walk in for the first three hours you’re on your feet but after that… I put them on and marched myself east about ten blocks and all through the Independence Hall buildings and museum, and even managed to find and go see the Liberty Bell.  I felt rather clever, being without a complete map.  Deep down, I must not like complete maps.

As I stood in the long hall at the end of the tour I spied the bell out the window.  I hardly think that’s a coincidence, that the two are visible to each other like lovers who cannot be together but can’t be torn asunder either.  Before I figured that out, I felt smart for finding the bell.

So there, Mrs Obama.  I not only moved but I also saw something edifying.

I really like Philadelphia.  I was predisposed to do so, I guess.  At least in my little history of the world, it is the true first city of the U.S..  New York wants to think it’s the center of the universe but what nation did it ever found, huh?

The first Supreme courtroom is marvelous.  I especially like all the old fashioned latches on the exterior doors.  I like understanding how they work, being able to see the mechanism.  The misfitting and not square doors with their uneven oft-painted faces.  I love old doors like that.

I asked about the choice of wall colors.  Apparently it is historically accurate.  I found several of the colors quite hideous,especially that baby poop brown in the Colonial Court Room.  That was all over the ranch when we first moved in, I thought because someone was too cheap to get a real color and just threw a bunch of leftovers in a bucket.  But no, it is apparently a color with historical significance.

I also cannot understand carving all those flowers in the woodwork and not painting them different colors.  How very conflicted those old Quaker carvers must have been, yearning so for flowers but then having them covered in that hideous brown muck color.

Aside from the color issue, and I did like some of the colors, I enjoyed my little mad dash of tourism.

If only I had my photoshop, these were lovely colors: those curtains are teal, I tell you, teal!

That is the kind of stuff I want to see, the little rooms that hatched great big stories.  I don’t mind that some of those buildings are century old replicas and not original.  Even the building of the replica is a story about how the country came to see its history as important, the same way a person finds self-confidence.  It’s all PR, but sometimes PR works on it’s maker too.

All in all a good day.  I love my new hoodie.  I may live in my new hoodie.   I like my hotel a lot, right in Center City, right upstairs from a Rite Aid (which is important when you can’t get packed, forget toothpaste, then realize you also forgot a toothbrush, have nail polish top coat but no nail polish and nails that look like you’ve been using steel wool on them… this hotel really should mention the Rite Aid in their ads.  It is immensely useful.

It’s a pricey place, not the kind of dump I usually try to stay in.  But when you don’t know the city, best to just pay for some security.  There are folded white napkins on the breakfast table.   Breakfast costs almost $20…

OH NO!  I forgot to use my Flyers ticket to get a free Egg McMuffin today!   Such a waste.

I did manage to be headed in the right direction by 3:30 am.  I had to return the DVD first.  Yes, I rented a DVD. For my next trick I will spin wool into yarn and make a sweater.

Being up at that hour was like arriving early to the eastern time zone. All the Easterners were waking up (or would be soon), why shouldn’t I be up too? Added bonus: since I had not really slept the night before, I was primed to adapt by crashing asleep as soon as I arrived in Philly.

Ever since The Travel Disaster of 2010, I try to allow a full 24 hours to get anywhere I need to be if it involves flying.  Said disaster involved the whole family, 97 year old grandmother included, stranded at SFO because the 8:30 am flight was cancelled.  We did not take off until 5pm.  Perhaps this was because our destination was one infrequently visited: New York City. We were lucky that we had planned to arrive the day before the wedding or we would have missed it entirely.

The 5pm flight did not even get us to New York, was never destined for New York.  It was originally meant to go to Mexico, but the airline hijacked it and still did not send us to New York.  They dumped us in New Jersey and called it close enough.  Hence my belief that Aeroflot is the only way to go and anyone else should not be trusted to deliver you on the right day or to the right place at all.

Day one, discounting travel day

Day One was spent doing I cannot remember what, aside from walking round and round the hotel area to get oriented.  The only thing I had to do was get to Wells Fargo Center for the Flyers game against Minnesota.  Aha.  So this is why I chose this week: ex-Sharks.  I didn’t really expect to see Nabby play but there was a chance.  That chance looks mighty good right now.  Back to the game that was…

One of my Twitter acquaintances agreed to meet me at the game.  She was not alone.  Apparently everyone at the little tailgate gathering was someone I had seen on Twitter.  I wish we’d been wearing Twitter name tags.  That would have helped.   We discussed assorted things, from the dreariness of the Philly football stadium to the significance of a party rep in a hockey player to the conundrum that is Bryzgalov and I can’t quite recall what else.

I bought a scarf.  It made me wish I had purchased a SKA scarf.  Now I have scarves for all the home teams I’ve visited (LA and vicinity don’t count) except SKA.  Oh well.

The game was a blowout.  I felt badly for Minny and for Harding.  And for the Minny Dads who are not having the same effect on their sons, at least two of them, as they had last season.  Bummer of a trip, but not for me.

I was able to drink.  I hardly ever get to drink more than my one beer in the first period at Sharks games.  I only had two instead of one, but it felt very decadent.  I really like taking the subway/train/metro whatever post-game public transport is available.  First, I get to drink because I don’t have to drive.  Second, I love the screaming jolly people that pack into the train after the home team wins, which apparently it does whenever I take public transport home.

I also got to watch the game with a friendly fellow I happened to be sitting next to.  I’ve had fairly good luck with going to games alone.  Never met a hockey fan I couldn’t at least have a courteous conversation with.  The fellow last night was really very nice, we both had info the other needed, including me forgetting what Giroux’s number was…?  Too many beers?

Wells Fargo Center: comfy, good sound, nice gift shops, plenty of access to food and beer.  Bathrooms close to my seats which is really all that matters to me about bathrooms.  Subway a walk away, a short enough walk that I don’t think anyone is likely to freeze to death on the trek.  As long as you stay with the herd, you will probably be carried along if you drop in your tracks.

I was not the only one there to see exes.  There was a fellow on the train back wearing a Minnesota Powe jersey.  Minny should do better with such precious exes on their team.

No one booed Heatley.  I don’t know why they should, he didn’t have anything to do with or against the Flyers or Philly.  I just noticed it.  It’s nice to see folks not boo Heatley.

I was able to get home in time to watch the Cloweless Sharks beat the Flames twice and then made a very lame attempt to respond to all that while my brain was stuck here, in my head, which is not in Shark Territory.

Day two, discounting travel day

It has been sort of cold but until today I did not notice it. Maybe that is because until today I did not spend an hour on those infernal aluminum benches in an ice rink. I don’t know how I dealt with that before. I can’t imagine what I was thinking last night when I thought maybe I would not even try to go watch the Flyers practice. For heaven’s sake, it is the Flyers! But it is in like another state from the city I am staying in.  Another state… Sharks Ice isn’t even in another municipality from HP.

But then there was that late night tweet from the Official Flyers Tweeter, telling me when and where the practice would be.

So I am very glad I did that and it was cool to find the Flyers’ encyclopedic- practice-attending-fan right there as soon as I walked in, ready to inform me on all things Flyers present past and future.  I did not get his name, but he did assure me that there were just the two ice surfaces, none hidden in the back inaccessible from the lobby like the Sharks’ favorite rink is.

To get there I took a train and a cab, though my phone told me I could walk from the train station, it would only take about 26 minutes.  I wonder how fast my phone assumes I walk?  In any case, I have learned many things about travel but still not to bring walking shoes.  Maybe that’s because, deep down, I really don’t want to walk, I want to be ferried, driven, bussed and otherwise carried everywhere.  That is so much more fun than tromping around or driving myself.

I am a bad bad Californian.  I have no shame of my desire to not be rushing about sweating and huffing and puffing and making myself better through physical exhaustion.  Sorry, Mrs O.  I just don’t feel it.

So, I did make it to Flyers’ Skate Zone in Voorhees, New Jersey, without walking very much.  I got the scuttlebutt from the fellow who hands it out (above-mentioned fan), explored the fan gear shop, sat myself down in a good spot in the bleachers.  After about 90 seconds I realized I would be in danger of frost bite if I did not go and get a blanket to sit on from the gift shop.  I could find no suitable blanket but I did find a hoodie.  That helped.  It was more than I would normally pay for a hoodie but it does say “Flyers” on it and I am sure that depriving your lower extremities of circulation is bad. I could tell that nothing was getting past my derriere where it sat on the frozen aluminum seat.  So I had to have the hoodie for sitting on, to save my ass and anything down stream from it, so to speak.

While I gauged my shivering rate and checked my sleeves to make sure they were all pulled down to cover any wrist skin, considered wrapping my scarf or the new hoodie around my head (I have an inexplicable aversion to buying a toque, aka a knit hat, because I have so many that unless I can buy a “HartnellDown” one, I refuse to buy yet another knit hat)… while I was so hopelessly distracted by being cold, I did manage to notice that Jagr was not on the ice, which caused much panic on top of cold.  I was about to tweet out my panic when he came into view like a dolphin in a giant aquarium, smile and all.  I felt better but soon was aware of being cold again.

Bob was by far the more lively goalie during practice.  He was as bouncy as I’ve ever seen him on tv, but I didn’t realize how frenetic he is until I saw him there today.  By comparison, Bryz was quite sedate.  I guess they both already knew who would be starting tomorrow, since Bob left first by quite a bit.  I can’t but wonder if that is why Bryzgalov was so low key or if he is always like that in practice.

There was a fair-sized crowd there to watch, especially for a work day.  I did not wait to see who stopped to sign things.  My phone battery was about to die, I needed to use it to call the cab and also get home so I could charge it in case the employment agency called me for the phone interview… I can’t even do vacations right.  And yes, mostly I was very cold.

I did notice Briere and Lilja pushing pucks over the glass for some kids.  I also noticed Coburne shooting the puck at the boards in front of the same kids.  I wondered why that didn’t scare the hell out of the kids, one could not have been older than two.  But she seemed to enjoy it a lot, hopping up and down every time it happened.  I don’t think she was tall enough to see over the boards and understand what was making the noise but she liked it.  Future season ticket holder there.