PASabreFan

Yes. Maybe it was all meant to be. I fervently believe in Hockey Gods and what if RJ buys them all a beer?

I'm sure it's been personal and nasty at times. Only bc of what they did to MY team. Mainly it's been an objective criticism. Most have come around to my way of looking at it. I'm over it. I'm just sitting here hoping for better times. And of course that the team gets sold.

Someone said Rick didn't want any tears upon his passing. He certainly wouldn't want the end of spirited Sabres talk. I don't even think Radar's post is a good example of bad vibes. It was fine.

Do you honestly not get tired of being bitch to 31 other teams?

I've always sung it. The franchise is awesome. It's my country. I sure as hell can say the government sucks. You're right about the last sentence tho. I honestly don't understand how a fan could not agree. Jay McKee's shin guard says hello. I get it tho. That fifth round pick is gonna be a stud.

Doing right for the player is what losing franchises do. We continue to be sad sack.

Is there any info on services? Will anything be streamed? In a way it feels like we had our proper public goodbye last April and now he belongs to the family. I wouldn't blame them for keeping things private. It still feels like there's something we need to do for closure.

Nice trade. Kev knows what he's doing. Can't believe the questioning here.

Now I'm gonna cry and not over Rick. It's a family reunion.

Like I said, Rick brings out (and back) our best.

Upon his passing from this mortal coil last night, Rick Jeanneret learned two things. The first thing he learned is that you don't either drop like a stone into the abyss of hell or float like a butterfly through fluffy clouds into heaven. There's an elevator. So he got in, with some trepidation. When he turned to face the front of the car, he saw three buttons on the panel to his left. The bottom button was red with a white H. The middle button was green with a white H. The top button was blue with a gold R. "Well, I have no idea!" Grumpy Rick had made it to the afterlife. He always suspected he was headed south of the border, given the number of beers he drank on the air and those thoughts he had as a teenage boy in Terrace Bay, Ontario. "But partner, there's no way in h-e- double hockey sticks I'm signing my own death warrant!" he exclaimed in his earthly stentorian style. Rick also couldn't bring himself to press the Green H, in case this was some kind of humility test. So he pressed the R. In the passing of no cosmic time a'tall, the elevator door opened upon the Pearly Gates. Rick smiled, his teeth suddenly absolutely perfect. The second thing he learned is that Saint Peter has a sense of humor. "You?! Brother, you are not worthy!" With that, the door slammed shut, and the tiny elevator turned into the enormous freight elevator at KeyBank Center. Now seemingly in real time, it clanked and shuddered and shucked and jived and slowly made its way upward. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened, and Rick sighed. He knew exactly where to go, exactly how many steps to take. Entering into his little cubbyhole over center ice, he recognized his chair, his long-lost pillow, and, sitting on the counter, the old stick mic he used for years at the Aud. He approached the precipice, picked up the mic and peered over the edge. He took one quick panoramic look at his new home, put the mic to his lips and repeated something he'd said on the air so many times. "Hoooooo-lyyyyyyy mackerellllllll!"

I'm out on my limb... His greatest call?

Honestly this is our community at its best. It took Rick, and his passing, to bring it out. That kind of says it all. Thanks, everyone.

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.