Three years after being relegated to third-string duty under Adam Oates, Braden Holtby is now a finalist for the the top award at his position. Wednesday night, we learned that the league’s general managers, who vote on the award, named Holtby as one of the three finalists for the Vezina Trophy for his performance in the regular-season. The honor is given “to the goalkeeper adjudged to be the best at his position.”
Recently traded Buffalo Sabres’ winger Matt Moulson had a child on October 11th. The baby boy is named George, which is not really an uncommon name. We didn’t think twice about it until Newsday’s Mark Herrman chimed in.
Moulson said Kyle Okposo and his wife are godparents to baby George (named at least in part for Alicia Moulson's godfather George McPhee)
— Mark Herrmann (@markpherrmann) October 31, 2013
Yep, Washington Capitals General Manager George McPhee is the reason (or one of the reasons) why Moulson’s second child is named George.
Photo credit: Bruce Bennett
Fifteen years ago, communication was different. There were no iPods or iPads, phones were used to make phone calls, and Steve Jobs was still spitballing how to change the world. All that has changed, and the world just sort of feels better now doesn’t it? For example, because of these leaps in technology, 2012 Conn Smyth winner Jonathan Quick can tell the world about the things that really matter to him.
Like a pregnant rabbit squatting down and popping out a kit in the middle of his backyard.
If Steve Jobs has a headstone, someone needs to print this and tape it on top.
“Los Angeles is just New York lying down.” – Quentin Crisp
The Puck Drop: As hockey analysts go, it’s a fair bet the late Naked Civil Servant numbers among the more improbable. Yet we can’t find a better clear-eyed summation of the 2012 Los Angeles Kings than Mr. Crisp’s tart bon mot. Where the New York Rangers are a team that is on its toes, the L.A. Kings are lazing in a recumbant slough with nary the will to move. (“Someone get me a bucket!”)
Their last game before Monday’s dance with the Caps should illustrate the point. A sorry 31 shots on goal, with eight power plays (one 5-on-3) and not a single puck finds the twine? Against the Blue Jackets? At least in Versailles the ruined monarchy mustered the spirit to play a rousing set or two of tennis, and look what happened to them. Awkward!
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