PASabreFan

Love the sentiment, but I'm not sure it'll be his highlight calls I'll remember. He should be remembered for what he said between the goals. Give me five uninterrupted minutes of him calling a Sabres Bruins playoff game in 1983 or 1993. I hung on every syllable and what it could mean. There was his brilliance. A goal was a sip of wine after the best meal of your life, and we feasted for decades! Sadness is not the feeling of the day, so far anyway. Gratitude is. It'a the smiles and not the tears I cannot keep at bay.

Quick, somebody check out that writer's coconut! Oh, brother!

He deserves to lie in state at center ice. I don't know how else the desire of so many to pay their respects can be accommodated.

Oh, you know where that one went tonight: top shelf where momma hides the cookies. Someone please draw Rick with wings and suspenders inside the pearly gates.

Twitter can't be idiotic anymore than the library can idiotic or the telephone. It's the users. And Twitter users are idiotic, brilliant and everything in between.

Your beef?

The last sentence is a problem if true.

As long as the decision is based on whether he improves the team's chances of winning, I don't care. Just don't give me the old, the kids have to play. Barf.

Don't forget @Ogre's flaming globes.

Really. But not at math.

Someone got a glimpse of Dom's chest when a robe slipped open, and it was not of this world.

It seems to me KA believes he can rationally control the progress of the Buffalo Sabres. That, in Darcy's lexicon, there is "continuous improvement." The beauty and wonder we are missing while waiting for E3 to full take effect in 2027 is the running outside on a warm spring night to shout your glee to the heavens after an OT win... Then stopping and hearing peepers and believing they are Sabres fans. My friends, we were absolutely robbed of this, and their hands are still in our pockets. It is criminal.

Your theories on economic and effective? Is Gallifrey near the arena?

The sequel. It's a prequel, of course. After the incredible box office and streaming success of Ogre: Alien Killer, Ogre and Lucic: The Beginning is a flop. It predictably traces the early lives of Ogre and his nemesis, who had sent his son to earth to torment the humans in their foolish athletic endeavors. Ogre battles many demons through a long career in a devastatingly difficult trade, all the while suffering this haunting feeling that he would one day be part of some even greater, epic struggle. The film begins with 18-year-old Ogre, already bald as a cue ball and jacked as *****!, making love to his high school sweetheart in a meadow in Elma. Things are proceeding apace until a searing pain enters Ogre's glistening dome. He has to extract himself from the proceedings. Now on his back and staring at the clear blue sky (scenic director was not from WNY), an extreme closeup shows that Ogre's pupils are pinpoint. Rapid cuts show a flashforward to Ogre being grasped, fondled, molested, controlled by dozens of slimy appendages as he is lowered into a vat of fake butter. Suddenly his pupils widen again, the torment over. He turns to his girlfriend, and their eyes instantly lock. In unison, they shout, "Let's make popcorn!" Super fast cut to the opening credits. Storm clouds, flashes of lightning, stock footage of UAPs over the ocean, into the ocean... Black screen. GODD Productions... Mainly, the movie is panned for its ending. The director returns to the original pavilion scene. Nothing is resolved, really, and the movie is mocked for a cameo appearance by Jason Alexander's George Constanza, who, having collaborated with the aliens, urges them to dip Ogre again and snorts. As the camera leaves the arena and rises, showing the exact same lake scene as in the original, Ogre is heard to exclaim, "Look over there, it's Rick Jeanneret!" The aliens in unison click and clack: "No way! Where!" Ogre cackles, and there are heavy footsteps, the unmistakable footsteps of steel toed boots, pounding toward the Rob Ray Exit. Oh yeah, there's going to be a sequel. But someone else needs to conjure it up. I have to go to work.

Narrator: The year? 1948.

Final scene. After a valiant, two-hour battle to survive, with an alien kill list as long as a car rental agreement, Ogre is inescapably trapped in the bedraggled pavilion of the arena, down by the ticket office. He smiles a wry smile, then from the depths of his bowels comes a guttural scream... EEEEEEEEEEEAT MEEEEEEEEEEE! The alien leader Lucic smugly nods and gestures for the giant tub of artificial butter they found in a concession area as he scurries toward the human "terrorist." Then speaks in alien click clack. Translation: Dip his bald head! Camera pulls out of the arena and rises. The Cheerios plant is burning. The lake is an eerie orange. The skyway of course stands. Oh yeah, this one is going to have a sequel.

Along the lines of how such advanced beings could face plant in the desert... Why would they eat us? Certainly they went plant-based many millennia ago.

Well yeah. Why do you think my mother was protesting?

What if their snack is calves? We did. I and my family saw one around dusk on a hot summer night in 1980. We lived below a cemetery. I spotted a triangle of lights and heard a low humming sound about 200 yards up the hill. We went into the backyard, and to my mom's frantic protestation, my World War II combat scout father walked up the road alone to find out for sure. He didn't come back for a good while, and it was almost dark. We were scared. Were the lights moving now? Was the sound more high pitched? My dad emerged from the darkness and flatly announced, "It's a dump truck. They're working on the road."

Is it possible to love too much?

Yeah but I suspect it was you who cracked corn.

I disagree that young players are necessarily on board. These are professional athletes who aren't naive kids. Some of them might be more calculating than you think. I wonder what you'll say if he doesn't? Both are dumb questions. Yours is probably more offensive.

The bolded needs to be talked about more.

7 weeks later...