This Started Off As A Comment

... and then it just kept going.

So, the RWD World Headquarters has moved up the highway, inching closer and closer to Duluth. At this rate, we'll be living there by... oh, 2041. So I didn't just ABANDON you all like I normally do, I actually was CUT OFF FROM THE INTERNET. Well, sort of. Because I used the internet a little during my CS class on Tuesday, but that doesn't count. It would be rude to blog during class. I can only write emails and check Gameday.

SPEAKING OF BLOGGING, over at the Blogger Hottie of the Year's site, he talks about some sort of Hockey Blogging Code. Well, they're really more like guidelines.

Chris says "There seems to be two schools of thought in bloggyworld. The first is that blogs don't need the same type of mainstream access to coaches and players that the regular media has. This lack of access helps give them the freedom to say whatever they want and not have to worry about pissing off anybody important. It's an interesting idea, and works quite well for a lot of sites. The other school of thought is that blogs are a legitimate form of media and should be treated the same as mainstream media."

Hello, I think we know which category I fall into over here. There is nothing legitimate about this site, and don't let anyone tell you any different! Clearly, I fall into the former category, because I mostly write fiction, half-truths, and LIES LIES LIES.

But for those of you who might be interested in just what would make this site (or any site) legit, he lists the set of criteria, created by some dude I've never heard of because he's probably a real journalist.

1. Email Media Relations at least 3 days before an event.
That's like the only thing on this list I could do. And they'd probably think it was spam.

2. Don't publish objectionable content.
I published content that offended my own grandpa. I lose.

3. Be in operation for at least 3-6 months.
Oh, I guess I did that. We're coming up on 4-8 times that many months.

4. Submit traffic data.
I have a few unpaid tickets from when I was still living in Champaign. But I also had illegal plates on my car at the time.

5. You have to interact with players and coaches and write something about the game.
I'm sure the players already have taken out restraining orders on me. Hey guys, if you haven't, better hop to it!
Rumor has it I do occasionally write "something" about a "game."

6. You have to act professionally.
Did you see me at the Final Five last year?
Because I'm pretty sure no professional people do that.

I don't think I'm going to make the cut. I can't even behave myself in a suite.
But that's fine, because I'm not suffering through "Programming in C" so I can be a SPORTSWRITER.

Wild About WPB

I just added a new link to the ol' sidebar, to Roy's Wild Puck Banter. That's Discussion of the Pro Hockey Team from Minnesota, not Erratic Jabbering About Hockey (hello! That's Runninwiththedogs' niche, comrades!)

The great thing about Roy is he is ALWAYS up on the latest La P sightings, so I have bestowed upon him the (dubious?) title of Head La P Watchdog. Clearly I can't be trusted to monitor La P's comings and goings, as I TOTALLY WAS SLEEPING WHILE LA P WAS DOING TWINS PLAY BY PLAY. I ALMOST HAD A STROKE UPON FINDING OUT.

There isn't a FireAnthonyLaPanta site yet, but I always enjoy the fine fellows at FireJoeMorgan. And I busted a gut upon learning of their sister site.

And, as always, I TOTALLY enjoy it when people's Google searches for La P lead them here. And this thread is great!

Sorry, Roy, didn't mean to make this into a La P-dominated post.

Diamonds and Pucks

I went to a baseball game, and a hockey game nearly broke out.

Err... a fight nearly broke out. The Hick (my recovering Badger friend) and I went to the Twins game Saturday, and, while the Twins sucked it up on the field, Hick and I were enjoying the company of not one, but TWO bachelor parties who were sitting around us. From our seats high atop the Metrodome upper deck (roughly at the same elevation as Mount McKinley), we observed these lovely gentlemen drink lots of beers, throw things at people, and jaw back and forth with someone who did not like things being thrown at him. It was fun.

But this isn't hockey, I realize. HOWEVER, while bemoaning the Bill Buckner-eqsue play of Nick Punto and the sad offense, I thought a bit about hockey. Of course, it was hard to fit in hockey, there was just so much about the things going on around me that I couldn't wrap my mind around. I mean, there was a guy making giant paper airplanes, who had booze-filled binoculars. And I had the following conversation with a person who had one eye sewn shut (seriously).

Hick and RWD enter stage left, filing into row with ice cream cones.

One Eyed Guy: That doesn't look like beer.

RWD, with nervous laughter: Ha ha, oh, well, I'm driving.

One Eyed Guy: Oh, that doesn't matter! Just close one eye! That's what I do.

RWD: ...

I am not lying. Good lord, what does that even mean? Is he referring to the one eye, that is perpetually shut? Or does he close both eyes? And man, does he have some accuracy when it comes to throwing a bag of peanuts!

Anyway, baseball and hockey fit together so well, you'd think it was designed with my entertainment involved. In early October, just as the hockey season is starting, the baseball season is ending. And then in March, when hockey's over, there's just a handful of days until baseball commences. You know how some crazy hicks divide their seasons into Hunting and Fishing? Well, my seasons are Baseball and Hockey. (This seamlessness doesn't apply to people who are fans of, say, the Gophers and the Yankees, who are often still playing in April and late October, respectively. But those people will also be living out an excruciating afterlife in the fiery underworld, so I guess it all works out in the end.) (Oh, one note of importance, last time the Twins were playing in very very late October, in 1991, they won the World Series on my birthday. Here's hoping the 'Dogs AND the Twins win a series on my birthday this year!)

It's easy to love baseball and hockey, even though they seem so different. I mean, if I were Michael Cuddyer and Bobby Jenks hit me in the elbow with a pitch, I would definite check that guy into the baggie so hard he would think a freight train had hit him. But, hello! You can't do that in baseball. Justin Morneau and Corey Koskie would have already done it.

Baseball is a game of anticipation, and hockey is a game where anything can happen. It is so easy to love them both.

In baseball there's the upper deck, and hockey, top shelf. The fastball and the slap shot, the breaking ball and the wrist shot. The Texas Leaguer and the lucky bounce. Carom and deflection. Wooden sticks sending hard objects flying at homicidal speeds. An overwhelming portion of the game's burden lies on the shoulders of one person, who's usually just a little on the crazy side.

Sometimes minutes in a hockey game feel like forever. Baseball could theoretically go on forever. When my team's ahead, I'm always anticipating that breakaway, that bad pitch, that could change the entire game. Tiny moments, big mistakes. A fraction of a second, a fraction of an inch, and it's a whole new ball game. Forget about what you did last night, last week, last year. You can't count a guy out because you think you're better than he is. Gene Larkin. Tony Quesada. Alejandro Pena and Don Lucia counted them out.

And, when my team's behind... well, it's best to tiptoe quietly away.

I didn't mean to fall in love with two teams who are so infrequently successful (three, if you count the Red Sox, but now it's getting harder to love them. Success has changed them. But at least they don't have *ugh* Johnny Damon anymore.) You can blame my parents, I guess. The default excuse. I know winning doesn't get old, winning is good, everyone would prefer to win rather than lose. But the 1991 World Series was so much more incredible since the Twins had been the last place team the year before. I'm sorry, Yankees fans. You'll never feel like I did then. And that first NCAA championship for the 'Dogs, oh man is that going to be sweet. Oh man, I just can't wait. The 8th title, or the 4th or 2nd, it's just not going to be the same for those folks. Victory is just so much sweeter if you're usually the also-ran.

One team is in a pennant race. The other's season is six weeks away. It's almost September, and anything can happen.

I Never Dreamed You'd Leave In Summer

Ah yes, the players who promised to be they would be the life in autumn and there would be warm love in springtime is ever-growing. Back in, oh, April or so, I started my own little list. Thanks to Goon's post, I was reminded that I've been remiss. So, away we go.
FYI, players that were not on the list from April are denoted with a ***


David Backes, Minnesota State-Mankato
Backes was a great player on an okay team. I won't miss him on the ice because he was a scary opponent, but I wish him the best of luck.

Matt Carle, University of Denver
Matt Carle pretty much did all he could at the collegiate level: national championship, Hobey Baker, All-Hottie team. Don't get that pretty face messed up in the NHL, honey!

***Ryan Carter, Minnesota State-Mankato
Who? What? Sorry buddy, you're below my radar. Perhaps my Mavs counterparts can elaborate? (Sorry I got your name wrong at first, dude.)

Kris Chucko, Minnesota-Twin Cities
I will miss Chucko simply because his name rhymed with so many insults.

Robbie Earl, Wisconsin-Madison
My archnemesis? Gone? Nooooooooo! He's totally ruined my plans! Oh, the fun we would have had, the cruel things I would have said! He's foiled my plan to wear a wetsuit and carry the A (Alfa) flag. (Contrary to what some people had at the WCHA playoffs, the "Diver Down" flag is not red and white, it looks like this.) I didn't even get a chance to cure his pimples.

Danny Irmen, Minnesota-Twin Cities
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, they're saying "Good luck getting a puck between us in the NHL." I don't like situations like this, when my enemy suddenly joins my side. Joe Mauer joining the Twins, Danny Irmen for the Wild. I just don't trust it. Maybe one day, love will build a bridge between Danny and me, but I don't know if it'll hold.

***Phil Kessel, Minnesota-Twin Cities
This departure comes to no surprise to us at RWD. Months ago, Ace Prognosticator DA reported that Kessel would be leaving, which I assume he learned from The Beard, his anonymous co-worker/source.

***Jordan Parise, University of North Dakota
Ouch! That one hurt. Jordy was a true inspiration to the Fighting Sioux, judging by their less-than-stellar play in front of Phillippe Lamoreaux (and why? I don't know why you wouldn't want to play well in front of the guy. His name translates from the French as "The Lover." That's wicked cool). The Second Coming of Parise may have done more for the team than Parise Vol. 1.

***Joe Pavelski, Wisconsin-Madison
All I have to say is, good thing Wisconsin doesn't rely on offense to win. Really, the MN Wild should just draft Badgers.

***Kyle Peto, Minnesota State-Mankato
Kyle Peto was DEFINITELY a hottie, winning First Team Honors 2 years ago (although somehow failing to make the list this past year... people, the head shot is sometimes all I have to go on! COMB YOUR HAIR! Use a good antibacterial toner! Smile for Mama!), and I'm sure there's a lot of broken hearts down in Southern MN.

Ryan Potulny, Minnesota-Twin Cities
The original member of The Hater Report. The inspiration for it, in fact. Oh Ryan, you were The Little Engine That In The End Just Couldn't Quite Make It. All those awards I listed above for Matt Carle, you were just shy of getting, too. You're the New Jan Brady!

***Brian Salcido, Colorado College
Well, this guy is clearly not the one we're talking about. But hello! 40 points is not easy to replace! However, CC always disappoints in the end, so I guess they could lose no one and still fall short. I had high hopes for them 2 seasons ago, but... SPLAT!

Matt Smaby, University of North DakotaI don't think any opposing players will miss the brain-rattling, bone-jarring, board-shaking hits Big Matt dished out. UND was lucky to get another year out of him, since he was so close to signing with them last year. Instead, they went with our own Rosie the Riveter.

Rastislav Spirko, University of North Dakota (added 5/5/06)
Someone, please hold me. I loved my little Sparky, and I'm going to miss him terribly. First, he goes and gets engaged to someone other than me, now he's forsaking me to go back to Europe and play for-profit hockey. Don't go, Spirko! Not without kissing me goodbye!

Drew Stafford, University of North Dakota (added 5/4/06)
Drew was a controversial player around here at Runnin' With the Dogs. He failed to make the All-Hottie List, and the readers were incensed! I thought Drew was great, he was the king of short-handed goals, he was in a rockin' band, and his arms made me all hot and bothered. The ladies love ya, Drew, and you'll be missed.

***Paul Stasny, University of Denver
Paul Stasny was tied for 4/5 in the points in the WCHA, sharing that honor with some nobody named Matt Carle. It will be interesting to see if some sort of Butler/Trotter/Mullen/Fast combo can even come close to the Carle/Stasny awesomeness.

Travis Zajac, University of North Dakota
Um... uhhh... I liked you? Good luck? Until we meet again? Sayonara? Hasta la vista, baby? I don't know, what do I say? If only we'd had more time together...

?

Do you think La P really talks like that? I mean, if I met him in person, would he talk like he isn't moving his tongue at all?

I will concede being a puffy old windbag ain't easy. But is it necessary?

Sigh. I miss hockey.

Consumer Alert!

Again, here at Runnin' With the Dogs, we exist solely to serve you. And once again, it has come to our attention that there is yet another Faux-Dog out there on the loose.


Look out, people.

FYI: I am semi-back from vacation now, although I have only been semi-present the entire summer. So look out, because another post might hit you when you least expect it.

Just Because You Drive A Lexus Doesn't Mean You Can Cut Me Off

Tales of a Road Warrior

So, the other day Mr. Zippy and I were driving along, going home from work/sitting in the parking lot all day (guess which one did what?), and some horrible woman in a Lexus cut me off. In case you didn't glean that from the title.

Anyway, that isn't so much relevant as it is annoying, but it's hopefully not a prelude to come when the RWD Staff hit the road tomorrow. That's right, we are headed north on 35 (and then subsequently 53) on our hajj to the Bulldog Mecca that is Duluth, followed by the Runnin' With the Dogs Once Every Two Years Gathering Of Staff (knowing my penchant for acronyms, you already knew it was coming... RWtDOETYGOS) at the top secret lakeside retreat. RWD, the Aaaalleged Webmaster, UMDDogz, DA, Gramps, H and L will ALL be present for the summit.

So, in other words, I'm on vacation, suckas! Not that I post that often anyway...

P.S. LaP was spotted on TV wearing a red polo the other night. YUCK! Someone should tell him that it doesn't work on him! Also, I am fairly certain if I were driving near him, LaP would cut me off.

The War Continues

I think it's awesome that someone was actually led to this site by searching for Anthony LaPanta. Possibly even La P himself! What a huge letdown for whoever was led here (although maybe not! Welcome, fellow La P hater!)

On a side note, La P has got some messed up hair going lately. More so than usual.

True

I realize that maybe some of my more recent posts have been, um, a little heavy on the fantasy elements. And while I enjoy writing pieces that have absolutely no basis in reality, it's symptomatic of 1. weather that's hot enough to make you kill someone and 2. a total lack of hockey.

But!!! No more!!! This post is absolutely, completely, 100% the absolute gospel truth!!! Yes!!! Exclamation points!!!

Monday, Monday. It wasn't the best of days. Sunday night, sometime between 7 p.m. and midnight, one of my dear pet birds and fellow 'Dogs fan (yes, he listened attentively to all the games over the internet when I was living in a teeny-tiny apartment in Champaign, IL) died. Monday I took him back to my home and buried him, which was sad (and not easy! Try digging a grave in 90-degree weather!)

I still had hope that Monday was going to be a great day. Why??? Because I was Going To See Actual Hockey. I heard about the Minnesota 4 on 4 Hockey Pro/College League through the college hockey grapevine (probably The UMD Penalty Box) and decided to go over and check out some of the 'Dogs players, new and old. It was going to be a fun day, I was certain.

It was pouring down rain when I jumped in Mr. Zippy (the vehicle that replaced the Grocery Getter of Death) and headed out on 62E for West St. Paul. Anyone who is going to chastise me for taking 62E during rush hour should know that I didn't even know where West St. Paul WAS until Monday (I had a ROUGH idea... you know, west of St. Paul), so I had to put all my trust in Mapquest. I sat in traffic for heaven knows how long, and then once I got out of traffic, I made a wrong turn. I figured it out almost immediately, as I ended up in some teeny tiny town that looked straight out of central Illinois, which is scary. The arena was easy enough to find, but since I thought I already missed the first game, I'd go find some place to eat.

Here's the real truth: I drive like a jerk. Not a cut you off, tailgate, refuse to let you merge jerk. Just a where the heck am I going, oh wait that was a curb, hmm now I missed my turn, let's do this all again...twice kind of jerk. (Typical woman driver, you say? Oh no, honey, I am not typical at all. On the road, I'm just scary.) All I wanted was a m-f McDonald's, but it wasn't meant to be. After driving over 2 curbs, I ended up at the local B.K. Six of one, I guess.

I went back to the arena only to discover the first game was still going on. Excellent! I was giddy (giddy!!!) at the thought of seeing Team #2's All-Star Awesome Guy (sarcasm does not count as a lie!), none other than Dan "Zero Points" Kronick himself. I picked up a program and started checking off numbers on the roster. Okay, there's Bobby G. in net (giving up 11 goals and still pulling out the win in OT... oddly familiar), and Nate Dey (potentially a hottie for next year? Hmmm...), and T.J. McElroy, and over on the other team, Mike Zacharias is in net, oh, hey there Evan Kaufmann I HATE YOU how's it going? and... and... WHERE WAS HE? WHERE WAS KRONICK???? WHAT HAPPENED??? What a disappointment.

Fine, whatever, I don't need to see the White All-St. Cloud All-Night Competitive Eating Team (sponsored by Seattle Sutton's Healthy Eating) vs. the Gold Ivy League/Misc. Minnesota Lodge Historians (sponsored by Pine Beach Lodge) in their Overtime Power Play Extravaganza. I wanted to see some 'Dogs.

There was another dude there wearing some UMD gear, but we sort of awkwardly avoided each other. I had a UMD sweatshirt on when I went into the actual rink, but I was also rockin' the sequins and designer jeans, because hey, I can be fabulous! even at a hockey game. Or a semi-game, with only 5 players a side and no checking. While the Blue and Maroon (!!!) teams stretched on the ice, I fielded a call from DA who was in the vicinity and was coming to join me. I feigned an intimate knowledge of southeastern suburbia and directed him. "Don't you know where Robert Street is??? Geez, it's soooo easy." I mean, like, come on Dad, get with the freaking program or something, DUH!!!

Okay, back in the ice arena, the game started, and I started checking off guys. Hmm... there's some dork from junior hockey... and there's a guy from D3 hockey, and yep, that guy's from Maine, but who's this guy? His number isn't on the roster! What? Neither is this guy!

And one by one, I checked off each of the 22 players there... and there wasn't a single Bulldog among them. I suppose there could be a few, wearing the wrong jerseys, but the whole POINT of a JERSEY and a ROSTER THAT WAS PRINTED OUT BY THE GUYS WHO RUN THIS THING is for those of us who don't know/can't tell what a player LOOKS LIKE to IDENTIFY THEM for the purposes of STALKING SCOUTING.

So I'm sorry. I don't have anything to report, I didn't get a sneak peak at Palm or Akins, didn't get to see Carroll or Greer, and didn't get to take a walk down memory lane with Hambly. I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO GLARE AT DAN KRONICK UNTIL HE SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUSTED.

Ugh.

P.S. Bruce, I think they made this league just for your wife... 4 on 4, the whole time!

One Hundred Years Behind the Mask

A tale of misery and deceit

In the ancient times, there was a merry band of men who played a game called hockye, the sport of gods. Hockye consisted of twelve men, divided into two "Teames," who met upon a sheet of ice to determine, with spears and a stone in the shape of a cylinder, who was the most dominant in the land. The sport of hockye was spread throughout the land, even to the desolate regions at the top of the world.
But away from the civilized villages of the lower latitudes, the teames were without order and discipline. Many of their leaders were decapitated following disappointing matches, and many of the followers disappeared, never to be heard from again.
One day in the early spring, as the Teame known as the Wolves of the Sea was on a sheet of ice in a small settlement in one of the far corners of the earth. It was a place where ships would go to anchor before returning to their home ports with curious goods from the mysterious and faraway lands to which they travelled. The Teame was honing their skills for their next contest, whenever it might be that another Teame would pass their way. Their leader had abandoned them some time ago, disappearing on a ship bound for the storied home of the Rodents of Gold, known as the Land of Sky-Tinted Waters. The Teame was in disarray. Their last stone had been worn down so thin it could break at any time, and their spears were lashed together with seaweed as they had split in two many a time.
Suddenly, a great roar came from what seemed to be underneath the ice, and the men were filled with fear. Smoke rose from the ice such as they had never seen before, blue with the peculiar smell the clothing the men wore took on after they finished a hockye contest. A man appeared before them, if you could call him a man, for his eyes looked as though they were hockye stones themselves, and he had horns and a tail and arms made from hockye spears.
"Blimey!" Lord Beaverson, originally from the kingdom of Great Britain, shouted. "It's Davy Jones Shyiak!" And a gasp of horror rose up from the Teame.
"SSSSSIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLEEEEEENNNNNNNNCCCCCCCCCEEEEEEEEE!" The creature boomed. But Lord Beaverson was right, it was indeed Davy Jones Shyiak, the devil that lurked in the ice of hockye. When hockye men were killed during a contest, it was said that the monster stole their souls on the brink of death and enlisted them on his Teame of the Undead, where they would serve one hundred years.
The Teame, whose members had barely eaten in weeks and who were festering with sores, had known their time was nigh, but when faced with their own mortality, they cowered. Shyiak advanced on them, and one of his spear-like arms reached out and pierced Chadwick von Andersonn in the chest. "Will ye choose mortality, or will ye spare thyself the depths of oblivion and join my Teame?" he hissed at poor Chadwick. The man shook with fear, and was barely able to stutter out a "y-y-y-y-es, I w-w-wi-will j-j-j-join you." And one by one, the Teame fell into servitude under the cruel master.
The Teame was forced into grueling hockye contests against all manner of unnatural creatures: goblins, ghouls, zombies, and Nanooks. Their spirits were broken, as well as their bodies. But the youngest and strongest of the Teame, a man by the name of Erich Walskinsen, stood before the master and defied him. "I will no longer compete for this Teame, for I have helped place many stones behind the Keeper and I believe that I have earned my freedom."
The cruel overlord Shyiak and his henchman, the Cobblin, laughed, a horrible, joyless sound. "But the stones ye have placed do not matter, for ye have promised us one hundred years, and ye have completed but one." And they tossed him aside. And so he toiled on.
But the word spread throughout the land that the Wolves of the Sea had been swallowed up by the Ice Devil, and it reached the Land of the Sky-Tinted Waters. The leaders of the Teame of the Rodents of Gold got together and discussed the situation.
"Well," said Don Lucio von Hedgehog, "the Wolves of the Sea were hardly a worthy adversary. Many of them laid down their spears refused to fight against our mighty Rodents of Gold. Mayhap they are better off with Shyiak."
"That may be true," replied von Hedgehog's second, who was none other than the scourge of the Wolves of the Sea, their former leader, Hillion auf der Bald, "but there is one that is worth saving. Erich Walskinsen, he would put many stones behind Keepers if we enlisted him on our Teame." And von Hedgehog, trusting in his aide's knowledge, allowed auf der Bald to pursue young Walskinsen and release him from slavery.
But when auf der Bald found the Teame of the Damned, he found even the power of the Rodent could not overcome the evil of Shyiak and the Cobblin. "You dare to come before Davy Jones Shyiak and demand the release of one member of his Teame?" the Cobblin cackled. "You will never succeed!" And he cast Hillion out of the realm.
The Cobblin called upon Walskinsen. "How did this man, auf der Bald, discover you were trying to escape? Did you tell him?" Walskinsen did not answer. "You will be punished for this! I banish you to the Striped Orange Cats of the Mountains, where you will be doomed to never become the most dominant in the land, for they have not been the most dominant in the land in many years! And you will finish out your servitude there, never to play for the Rodents of Gold in the Land of Sky-Tinted Waters!"

And that, my friends, is where the story ends, for now.

Blog Botox

In case you didn't notice, The Aaaalleged Webmaster injected some botulism toxin into this site, and it looks a little different. A little stiff, a little plastic, maybe, but fresh and young, definitely! Big round of applause!!!

Not included in the links? Post a comment, and all will be well.

Here's a tip: hold your cursor over each link to see what I really think of you.

Evan Sasquatch

Okay, I would like to know just who said it was okay to look like this. Remember when you looked like this, and you won All-Hottie First Team Honors? NO ONE SAID YOU COULD HAVE A HOCKEY MULLET. Sheesh.

Meanwhile, being de topscoorder van de Nederlandse competitie has been kind to TJ, taking him from this to this.

Huh.

UMD's Sandelin Signs Contract Extension

All together now: "Woo Hoo!"

Thought you read the article closely? Well, we read the fine print. Here's what it really says.

University of Minnesota Duluth head men’s hockey coach Scott Sandelin has signed a three-year contract extension that will keep him behind the Bulldog bench through the 2009-10 season, it was announced today by UMD Director of Intercollegiate Athletics Bob Nielson. Assistant Coach Runninwiththedogs will continue her position, as well.

The agreement calls for Sandelin to receive an annual base salary of $130,000. Runninwiththedogs declined a salary, saying "Just knowing that I am always right about everything is all that I need." Plus, her day job no longer erodes her soul.

“We very pleased with the leadership Scott has provided to our men’s hockey program and are encouraged about what lies ahead for the Bulldogs, ” said Nielson. “He’s continually demonstrated the ability to bring in top quality student-athletes -- young men who excel both on the ice and in the classroom. As for RWD, she's got the brains and the creativity to come up with some of the greatest strategies the game has ever seen. We're pleased to see her backing up Sandelin on the bench."

In his six seasons with the Bulldogs, Sandelin, the 2003-04 Spencer Penrose Award recipient (American Hockey Coaches Association NCAA I Coach of the Year), has helped thrust the UMD program back firmly into the national forefront. In addition to compiling an overall record of 96-122-26, including a 76-70-19 mark since the start of the 2002-03 season, he has taken UMD to three of the past four WCHA Final Five Tournaments. In 2004-05, the Bulldogs were named the preseason league favorite in the Grand Forks Herald WCHA Coaches Poll for the first time ever and, in mid-October, occupied the No. 1 spot in a national poll (uscho.com/cstv and the USA Today/USA Hockey Magazine) for the first time in 15 years. Over the Christmas Holidays that year, Sandelin displayed his coaching wares on the international stage as the head coach of Team USA at the 2004 World Junior Hockey Championships. Three years ago, Sandelin turned UMD into a NCAA Frozen Four participant for the first time in nearly a generation and shepherded the Bulldogs to their most victories (they were 28-13-4 in all outings) and highest WCHA finish (second place on a 19-7-2 mark) since the 1992-93 season. UMD also sported the nation’s second-highest scoring team, and, during the course of the year, pieced together a school-record 14-game unbeaten streak. For his efforts, he was chosen the WCHA Coach of the Year as well as the national coach of the year by both insidecollegehockey.com and uscho.com. Sandelin’s 2002-03 Bulldogs racked up their best overall mark (22-15-5) in a decade while experiencing the greatest one-year turnaround of any WCHA club that winter.

In all, the 41-year old Hibbing, Minn., native has produced one Hobey Baker Memorial Award winner (Junior Lessard in 2003-04), two NCAA I All-Americans, and eight All-WCHA selections.

The 20-awesome year-old RWD, born in St. Paul, first launched the premiere site for Bulldogs hockey analysis during the 2004-2005 season. Since then, the team has struggled, with a 26-42-10 record and two finishes in the bottom half of the WCHA, leading some Bulldog fans to speculate it was her fault. However, RWD has written many awesome posts, participated in two roundtable discussions, and the team has produced three WCHA All-Hotties. Her first coaching season was rocky, with the 9th place finish and 11-25-4 record, but this upcoming season should be a great improvement.

The 2006-07 Bulldogs will return some 17 lettermen -- including nine of their top 11 scorers -- from last year’s club, which went 11-25-4 overall and 6-19-3 in the WCHA.

“I’m excited about the future of this hockey program,” said Sandelin, whose 2006-07 roster will include 10 National Hockey League draftees. “And, I am extremely appreciative for getting the opportunity to continue being a part of it.”

"This year is going to rock," said RWD, "both on the ice and on the net. I'm thrilled to get this opportunity, and I hope that my plan can be implemented as soon as possible."

Four on Four Action!

In case anyone is interested, I'll be going to some of the Minnesota 4 on 4 Hockey League games to scout out some new and returning 'Dogs, along with some of the competition and some former WCHA players who are now in the pros. You can check out the schedules and rosters here if you'd like to go, too.

Several current, former, and future 'Dogs players will be there, including Trent Palm, Andrew Carroll, Jay Cascalenda***, Matt Greer, Tim Hambly and Drew Akins. Alex Stalock had played at one point, but he's not on any roster right now. They do warn roster changes could happen at any moment. Other players of interest include Jeff Frazee and Tony Lucia of the Gophers, scourge of RWD Dan Kronick, Chad Anderson and Luke Beaverson of the Seawolves, MN Wild's Brent Burns, Hobey Baker winner Marty Sertich, and UND Golden Boy Brandon Bochenski.

It sounds like it should be pretty fun. Anyone interested, comment below.

***Today is Jay's 21st birthday. I wonder if they'll comp him some drinks at Blarney's? Happy Birthday, Jay!!!

More Whining

So, I was working on the Top Secret Off-Season Project (TSO-SP) last night, and I realized HOLY CRAP DO I MISS HOCKEY!!!!!!!!!!!

Ranting and Raving

Sometimes, I like to stray from the normal tone of this site and get annoyed about things. Sometimes, I just can't restrain myself from saying bad things about other people who I'm sure are good upstanding citizens and help old ladies cross the street and drive hybrid cars and call their mothers every weekend. While I could expound for hours on the subject of that awful guy that says "wuh-rap" in the Sonic commercials (we don't even HAVE Sonic here!), or that awful person in the Sierra Mist commercials who is also on the VH1 "I Love The" specials, that really has nothing to do with hockey. I'll try to stay on topic here.

I know that there are announcers in hockey that inspire hatred in the eyes of the fans, i.e. Mazzocco and Woog, but I really really dislike someone who's relatively benign. Or so he seems...
I just can't stand Anthony LaPanta. I can't even figure out what his purpose is: he does baseball (kind of), high school hockey, and college hockey (sort of). He might even do other things, but those other sports don't exist to me. He's like their utility reporter, and he's not a Michael Cuddyer, he's a Denny Hocking. I find him dry and boring, devoid of personality. Plus, I get that he is probably pissed that he can't enjoy the Final Five like a fan because he has to work, but I drank enough alcohol to sedate an elephant, so he could have at least appreciated that instead of ignoring me.

This isn't hockey-related, but it should be. I can't stand The Worst F***ing Sports Show, Period. That's not really the name, of course, but I'm a fan of telling it like it is. Do they even know what hockey is, question mark. I don't understand how you could call a sports show open quotation mark the best closed quotation mark when they only seem to care about basketball open parenthesis since they always have that baboon's ass Mark Cuban on there closed parenthesis, with a little basketball and baseball thrown in. Okay, the punctuation joke is getting old, so I'll stop. Also, one of the hosts looks like he is on steroids. Can you guess which one? Also, if you want to be a woman on that show, you'd better have posed for Playboy, I think it's in the job description. VOMIT.

Honorable Mention to Marney Gellner: I'm really glad that you're not an ex-Playmate, I think it's great that Fox hired you because you're smart and a pretty good reporter (in my less-than-humble opinion) rather than because you were an ex-Playmate that they could teach to interview athletes, much like a chimp is taught sign language. But, honey, the bangs have got to go, among other things. My Top Secret Day Job puts me in a prime position to help you. I offered my assistance to Robbie Earl, and remember, Wives of Top Hockey Executives trust me. So, while overall I don't hate you, I often hate what you're wearing.

FullDECC Gets Married

I forgot to post this on 1 July, but my good buddy Brad over at The DECC is Stacked got married over the weekend. I wish the best of luck to Amy and him!

Cheers!

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to You
Happy Birthday to You
Happy Birthday Jim Jensen
Happy Birthday to You!

22 birthday spankings for you from all of us at RWD!

Postcards from RWD Vol. 5: Holiday Weekend Edition

Dear Players,

Stop googling yourselves. I know you're doing it. I check my stats, I see where the hits come from. I know, I know, sometimes it's a fan, but come on. It's obvious what's going on here. Don't make me call you out by name, Colby Genoway (oh wait, I just did.)
First of all, if you aren't a Bulldog, you probably don't want to read what I have to say about you. Second of all, if you are a Bulldog, you're probably waking up at night in a cold sweat, hoping I'm not standing outside your window watching you sleep.
You're a hockey player. We love you (or hate you, if you're the opposition.) It goes without saying (or googling.) Shouldn't you be lifting weight somewhere?

With awe,
Runninwiththedogs

Go Daddy-o

So, no one got my Anthony Grieco/Richard Grieco joke. That's fine. We shall move on. I thought it was funny, but there's no accounting for taste.

Tomorrow (or, to be more precise, one hour and one minute from the time I am typing this exact sentence) is Father's Day. I know that I just got all sentimental not three weeks ago, but no one asked me when to schedule Father's Day. If someone had asked, I would have requested it not be so close to DA's birthday. Really, it's not normal for me, and it's probably making the rest of you uncomfortable. Fear not, because there's a really sour, bitter, acrid post coming right up. In the meantime, find a leather strap to bite on or something, because here we go.

Tomorrow (as I already said) is Father's Day. Lucky girl that I am, I have a father (DA), a grandfather (Gramps), a brother (UMDDogz), two uncles (H and L), and a partner (The Alleged Webmaster), who are all 'Dogs fans, and who are all great men, fathers or not. A stick salute to all of you for being such an awesome family.

Happy Father's Day, too, to all my hockey blogger friends who are fathers (Bruce, DTP, Satnu, and anyone else who has kids but didn't make it known.) I owe you all a beer.

There, that wasn't so bad now, was it? I promise I'll get back to our regularly scheduled sarcasm very soon.