PASabreFan

Rick's a dog. This thread wouldn't have been another Eichel rumor thread or even another Ville Leino's Greatest Sabres Moments. I dislike catch all threads. This one was fine.

JC, welcome to the club.

It's proportional.

Duffer scored some rare points with me by saying one of the good things about the pandemic is that Leaf fans hadn't been in the building. Later he pointed out with his giggling delivery that this would be the last time this season they would be in the building. If the organization has decided that Toronto fans are indeed Great Satans, that will be a very good thing. It goes glove in glove with Granato's "what the ***** have we been doing here?" style. Everything should point to winning.

Loved ESPN's announcer-free minutes toward the end. Ice level audio and low camera angles made it as close to being there as possible.

No player or coach interviews after the game. Interesting. Wonder if they closed the old lockerroom. Granato can't let them "learn to lose."

Terry. It's named for Rick Macleish.

I was hoping for wild and woolly one, but I'll take it.

Bryson>Dahlin.

It was a Roby hound's breakfast.

When you're two down, you're in it. That's the rule.

I was going to say Rick could keep going on for years, but the last call of the Leafs goal just can't happen.

McEachern

Rick's trying, but this game lacks verve.

And there it is. Good night everybody, you drive safe now.

I missed that.

It finally dawned me that the only explanation for Dan Dunleavy as voice of the Sabres is that the organization decided, perhaps going back to the start of the Pegula Era, that it would never again let its voice be so integral. You want to know what's happening? You want to be excited? Buy a ticket. It also calculated, IMHO, that not having a Rick would not hurt broadcast ratings.

Four in a row. Interesting.

Kathy Bates vs. Kathy Griffin.

My beloved cat, Gus, died yesterday. He was 18 years and eight months old. That's hardly awesome, but part of the terrible experience of trying to shepherd him to Kitty Heaven was quite awesome. Because a man I don't know and probably will never see again gave me the greatest gift. And like the giving of some great gifts, he didn't even know he did it. I had an appointment to take Gus to be put to sleep. It was time, but I didn't think death was imminent. I didn't foresee that even the short drive to the vet, although always stressful, would be so hard it would be a tipping point. Gus died on my front passenger seat, on a favorite fleece jacket he knew as a blanket, in the parking lot, after a few minutes of suffering. I wanted to keep him in the car as long as possible and had been going erratically in and out of the lobby, not sure if I should wait for the vet to call us or take Gus directly to the euthanasia room. I was in full denial, still thinking it wouldn't hurt to get one last opinion from the vet, still thinking Gus wasn't going to die, at least not right then. But he did, and I wasn't there for his last breath. That bothered me, and so did his last-minute suffering, which I was doing everything to prevent. I went back in and told the clerk what happened. A man in the corner with his dog surely overheard me. I got a phone number for the local animal crematory and held it together just long enough to get to the door before falling apart. I got in my car and wept. Stupid social conditioning, but of course I was looking around to make sure no one saw. The man came out and walked in front of me — and he saw. He put his dog in his car, which was parked next to mine, and got in. I glanced over. He was crying, too. He shared my pain, he eased my burden and he made me feel not so alone in that terrible moment. Unlike our pets, our hearts are far from perfect. In that moment, though, I believe the human species was at its very best.