You Don’t Suck and it’s Not Really all Your Fault

Vancouver Canucks goaltender Roberto Luongo du...

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To Ryan Miller, Roberto Luongo, Annti Niemi, Jaroslav Halak and every other NHL goaltender that I have taunted,

Hey there fellas!

As I’m sure you are aware, coming into the Bridgestone Arena to play the Nashville Predators can be a frightening experience for your visiting teams. Apparently Ken Hitchcock of the St. Louis Blues even said, “You’re not going to beat Nashville in Nashville on Saturday night. This is like the Coliseum in Rome, coming into this place on a Saturday night.” I’m not going to lie to you, he’s right. The crowd is not welcoming in the least and you are told many, many times, that you suck.

I know you’ve heard the friendly little chant that happens when your team lineups are announced. You know, the one where after every name the entire arena shouts, “SUCKS!” Obviously this is a lot on the rude side as you don’t really suck. You’ve made it all the way to the NHL. That’s a pretty big thing and you don’t get there by sucking. This is clearly an irrational thing for a large crowd to shout at you.

And to top it all off, you are all goalies so you get the blame for everything. Every time the Predators score on one of you, the crowd makes sure to tell you how much you suck. It goes a lot like this, “Nah na na na nah HEY YOU SUCK!!” I don’t really know why they do this. Sure, you let a goal in, but you’re supposed to have defenders helping you. Obviously if they let a puck get by them, they also suck. And no one yells at the defenders about how bad they are. It’s not fair guys, not fair at all.

After that happy little song, the crowd makes sure to chant your last names long and slow like this, “LUUUOOONGOOO, LUUUOOONNGOOO” followed by, “YOU SUCK. IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!!” That doesn’t seem right. It’s not really all your fault. It’s a team game. Your team apparently didn’t help you much if the Predators were able to score. If I were you guys, I’d be pretty upset about how this plays out for you.

Now I’m not proud to admit this, but I have shouted “Hey, You SUCK!!” many, many times along with the crowd. I even chanted about it being all your fault last night, Neimi. I’m sorry about that. I got swept up in the crowd and atmosphere and it just sort of slipped out. Ok, it didn’t slip out, I yelled, that’s not a slip. But again, I’m not proud of myself.

I’d like to try to make up for this. So I have several options that I’ll let you choose from as retribution for me telling you that you suck.

Option #1: When the Predators score I’ll slowly chant the name of every player, of the opposing team, then proceed to “It’s all your fault”. That way the blame is not just placed on you. You and your team have solidarity in your suckiness.

Option #2: When your teams score on Pekka Rinne I can shout, “Hey, You Suck!” at him as well. That way I’m acknowledging the fact that the Predators also make mistakes and allow goals to be scored. (I’m not a fan of this idea and I’m not sure those words can physically come out of my mouth in reference to Pekka. I sort of love him too much to allow that to happen. So don’t choose this option, ok?)

Option #3: I don’t shout “You suck!” at anyone. I only shout happy uplifting things, like “THAT WAS A SPECTACULAR TRY THERE, RYAN MILLER!! YOU DID YOUR BEST! MAYBE NEXT TIME!!!” In this option, everyone is a winner. I make everyone feel good about themselves, even when the other team scores.

I’ll let you discuss amongst yourselves which is the best option. Let me know what you decide and at the next home game I attend I will put it into practice. If I shout loud enough I’m sure I can change the attitudes of everyone around me.

We’ll stop giving you guys all the blame soon. We will. Because you don’t really suck and it’s not really all your fault.


PS: Again, real sorry about shouting of “YOU SUCK!” It’s just not nice. Please don’t hate me. I don’t like to be hated. Plus if Shea Weber hears about my shouting problem he’ll never marry me. I don’t want that to happen. So let’s keep this between us, ok?

A Few Valentine Demands (Pay Attention Fellas!)

You guys! Valentine’s day is TOMORROW. And do you know how many valentine’s I have for tomorrow?

None. I have none valentine’s for tomorrow. And the odds of me somehow picking up a valentine between and now and midnight are also none. Mainly because the only place I might go, other than home, between now and then is Walmart. I don’t want a Walmart valentine. Yuck. (plus I’m getting this weird pimple right by my lip, and it kind of looks like I have a case of the herp and that is not helping matters)

In fact I’ve never had a valentine. (Unless you count the small children I work with but I don’t, because that’s inappropriate) Even in elementary school when the super awesome 6th grade relationships were going on, no one brought me a teddy bear. Years and years I have waited for a teddy bear. Still no teddy bear for Amanda. So I’ve thought long and hard about this and here’s what I need to make up for 22 years of none valentines. Feel free to take notes fellas (mostly Colin Wilson)

First I’m going to need a teddy bear. Not just any teddy bear. A big teddy bear. 22 years worth of teddy bear. One like this one (but without that girl, I don’t want or need her):

Next I need tickets to the Predators / Blackhawks game tomorrow night. Right on the glass would be best, but if you can only swing upper deck I’ll deal with it I guess. I’ve taken the liberty to find some on eBay for your easy purchase so here ya go: 2 Chicago Blackhawks Vs. Nashville Predators 02/14/12

hockey fights are so romantic!

And my final demand is a poem. Not just any poem. A mushy poem. A mushy poem written solely using the words on conversation hearts. And no limericks or haiku’s. That’s cheating. Just glue those suckers on a doily in some sort of rhythm and send it my way. If it’s homemade I’ll love it. (and feel free to bring the rest of the bag of conversation hearts as a snack for the hockey game. I haven’t eaten any yet this year).

That’s it. That’s all I need to be happy. Is that so much to ask? I’m pretty easy-going. Just a poem, a big bear and some hockey tickets. What’s the big deal?

So anyway…
If anyone wants to, ya know, be my valentine….you know what to do.



Sports Fans 101

Americans as a general rule love sports. It could be the atmosphere, the players, or the air of competition, but there is something about sports that connects everyone. They serve as the great unifier. For the few hours during a sporting event everyone is united. Blue collar, white collar, it doesn’t matter. We’re all doing the same: yelling and hoping our team comes out victorious.

Now since my recent come-outtance as a sports fan I’ve noticed that there are about 5 basic schools of fan-hood at sporting events: (particularly Nashville Predators hockey games) There’s the shouter, the mutterer, the questioner, the crowd-coach and the groupie.

The “Shouter”
They are very passionate about the game. They are also very passionate about beer, drinking one every 15 minutes. They yell everything they say. However, it seems that the shouters don’t actually know how the game works. They just shout whatever is on their mind at the time. They yell at players like they’ll actually be heard. They yell at the referees as if they could do a better job. As the evening goes in their shouting becomes less coherent. Some people might even refer to the shouters as the ‘obnoxious drunks’ (some people = Amanda) .

The “Mutterer”
Unlike the shouters, most mutterers are actually knowledgeable about the game. They know the players and all their statistics. They know when a penalty needs to be called. They’re not boisterous about this information however. They just mumble things like, “Nope. Bad call”, “Guys, come on” or “Toots is on the ice” as if they have secret knowledge that they don’t want to share with anyone other than the person directly next to them. They might be more obnoxious than the shouters simply because when I want to eavesdrop on them it’s really hard.

The “Questioner”
Often attending the game with mutterers, the questioners do just as their name suggests; they ask lots of questions. Questions about how the game works and who the players are, often they are very stupid questions. For instance at the last game I attended the questioner behind me asked their mutterer friend what all the black things (they were hockey pucks) on the ice were and when the best time to go to the bathroom would be. (clearly the best time would be at the end of a period) They have a thirst for knowledge but a complete lack of logical reasoning. They also seem to have a case of voice immodulation disorder because they ask their stupid questions really loud, causing me to laugh at them.

The “Crowd Coach”
This is the person giving really intelligent advice to the players, unfortunately the players cannot hear them because they are up really high. They give helpful advice like, “GUYS! Defend the goal!”, “Shoot the puck!” or “Get a goal!” (FYI this is not actually helpful advice as the players know how to play and that’s why they are in the NHL) The crowd coach population tends to be mostly women, I assume because they feel like they should be mothering the players.

The “Groupies”
The groupies are solely teenage/college age females. They know absolutely nothing about sports. They don’t care to know anything about them either. But they like to look at the players and have chosen their particular love target. They come to the games armed with plenty of neon colored signs proposing marriage to their favorite players. They also get up a lot during the games as if the players will see them amongst the 17,000 other people and fall in love immediately. (this does not appear to be working for them) I find these ones highly obnoxious.

I reluctantly have to admit that I tend to float a little into each of these schools. I mutter things to my neighbors, but also shout at the players. I sometimes coach from my seat, saying things like “Come on Sergei! What are you doing? You need to score!” and “What are you doing Kevin Klein? Why do you always shoot from the blue line!” I’ve been known to ask a stupid question a time or two as well. I even have a players I would be willing to marry if they asked. (Hey Colin Wilson! I’m waiting) But I DO NOT make signs. I draw the line there. (Sidenote: If I made a sign it would not propose marriage. It would say “Hey Brandon Yip! We Want a Yip-Check!!”)

I’m willing to admit that I’m pretty obnoxious. But luckily for me I’m an American. It’s natural for me to do these things at sporting events. In fact I might even say it’s expected. I’ll just be okay with being a shouting, mumbling, questioning, crowd-coach who would marry a player if they asked.

Plus this is the only social setting in which it’s okay for me to shout, “Hey, you suck!” at someone. So I’m not going to argue with the rules.

Apparently I Wear a Weirdie Magnet

I’m not sure if it’s something in my genetics or the fact that I tend to look super uncomfortable in most social settings, but I have this tendency to attract the weirdies. Somehow I always find myself forced to hold conversations with strange/smelly/mustached people. These conversations mostly entail me awkward courtesy laughing and checking the time on my phone every 30 seconds. Somehow I draw the weirdies out of the woodwork and into my immediate locale.

For instance I’m standing at the battery kiosk at the local Walmart (I like to keep it classy, so I frequent Walmart a lot). I’ve been playing Mario Kart so I’m currently going through batteries like they are candy. I’m scouting out the best priced rechargeable batteries for my Wii remote. I’ve made a decision on the Energizer brand that comes with a wall outlet charger. I felt this was a good choice. Then it happens. A portly old man on a motor scooter drives by. We’ll call him Gerald, he sort of resembled a Gerald. Gerald stops his little scooter right next to that battery kiosk. Takes a look at me, the batteries I’m holding, then back at me. Gerald mumbles something like, “Mrfjgisnd $2 marggakmends ieolesm…maeoom.” I look at Gerald, smile kindly and give my courtesy giggle. Apparently Gerald didn’t like my battery choice or my response, he sort of glares at me, then scooters on his way. I spent the next 15 minutes trying to decipher Gerald-language to figure out what he was telling me. I still have no idea. Weirdie Magnet.

Rewind back to age 13. I decide it’s a great idea to go grocery shopping with my grandmother. (which, by the way, if you don’t want to spend 15 hours grocery shopping, this is bad idea) We go to Walmart, and probably 5 other stores, and then before you know it, it’s 3:00 p.m. and we have yet to eat lunch. So the logical choice is to stop at Braums to get a delicious hamburger. Next thing you know some locals come into the Braums as well. (By locals, I mean the place is real small and everyone knows everyone, except for the granddaughter who is visiting from the big city of Olathe, Kansas and foolishly went on a grocery shopping trip not knowing what the day held in store for her) These locals consist of a mother and her son. They’ve come in to get a bag o’ burgers to take back to what I can only imagine, is a pig farm. My kind grandmother offers to let them sit in our booth as they wait on their bag o’ burgers. I do my best to pretend the boy is not staring at me as I focus as hard as I can on looking out the window, eating my fries. Some awkward conversation was attempted by the boy. I did my best to avoid it. Then the bag o’ burgers was ready and I thought that I was free and I would never encounter these people again. Now fast forward 3 hours. The phone rings at my grandmother’s house, not an unusual event. The phone is for me, incredibly unusual event seeing as how I don’t live there. I uncomfortably take the phone and say, “Hello?”
“Hi Amanda, it’s Hank*, from Braums.”
“…..oh. Hi.”
“So you’re 15 right?”
“Ya….NO! No I’m only 13.”
“Ha, you don’t know how old you are? So do you want to go see a movie?” “…..No…..I can’t.”
“Oh…..When are you leaving?”
“…..tomorrow.” (this was a lie)
“Oh ok. Bye”
I hung up the phone faster than I’ve ever done anything in my life and cursed myself for going grocery shopping that morning. And as an aside, it turns out, Hank was not 15, he was 17, close to an illegal experience. So anyway, had I gone and seen Scooby Doo with Hank I might be living on a pig farm right now. Weirdie magnet.

*I’m positive that’s not his name, but I’ve tried to remove this memory from my mind so I don’t remember his real name.

And now let’s go back just a few days to Saturday evening. I attended a Nashville Predators / St. Louis Blues hockey game at Bridgestone Arena. The evening started off normally. I was getting a little loud and obnoxious during the game, which apparently is my new thing. Throwing my arms up in victory when the Predators scored, singing the catchy little tune “Bah na na na na HEY, YOU SUCK!”, you know, normal hockey things. (it also could have had something to do with the St. Louis fans right next to me, who were sad they were losing) It was a great game. We beat the Blues which is always a welcome thing. (I really don’t like St. Louis teams) Now this is when the  most recent weirdie magnet kicked in. I was leaving the arena and in order to exit you have to go down an escalator. For smooth exiting the arena has placed two escalators side by side both going down. I’m minding my own business, escalating down when someone on the adjacent escalator shouts, “We’re going to beat you down! Ours is totally going faster!”
I look over, assuming this is not being shouted at me. Surprise, surprise. I am the target of this young man’s race challenge.
“Um…OK…Sure!”, is all I can really think to say.
“We’re gonna win!!”
I can only muster up a courtesy chuckle in response to this. Then we get to the end of the escalator. Obviously I won, so weird-escalator-race-challenger accuses me of cheating.
“Ok. Well what can ya do?”, I say
Then I disappear into the crowd as quickly as I can to get away from escalator-race-challenger. Weirdie Magnet

But the weirdie magnet part of me wonders if I’m destined to be stuck with the weirdies forever. Why do all these weirdies talk to me? Was that escalator weirdie my only chance at love? Should I have waited for escalator-weirdie and formed a strange escalator race bond and then gotten married on the escalator? Should I go down there tonight to ride the escalators up and down until someone challenges me to a race, then marry them? Why do I ask so many questions? Maybe it’s not actually about me being a weirdie magnet…maybe I’m just a weirdie too….


Raise Your Valentine Game to the Next Level with my Simple “Build Your Own Love Letter”

February. The month that everyone spells incorrectly. It’s not Feb-u-ary you guys. Feb-ru-ary. It’s not that hard. Just sound it out. February get the shaft because everyone spells it wrong, but it’s also been shorted when it comes to number of days. While all the rest of the months get 30-31 days, poor old February only gets 28. However this is February’s lucky year. It gets 29 days instead of just 28. (Also let’s take a minute to wish all the leap year babies a Happy Birthday. They only get one every 4 years. They deserve this.)

But despite it’s short stature, February has got a lot going for it in 2012. Black History Month, Groundhog Day, the Super Bowl, Mardi Gras, Ash Wednesday. February really hit the holiday jackpot this year!! It feels like I missing something though. What could it be?

Oh ya. Valentine’s Day. February is the month of love (If you didn’t already please go back and read that sentence as if you were Morgan Freeman)

If you’re anything like me you’re not so great at this Valentine’s day thing. If it doesn’t come in a box with lollipops stuck into it or say something adorable like, ‘You’re Dino-mite, Valentine’ I don’t know how to handle a Valentine.

See. Isn't this adorable?

So to make all of our lives easier I’ve come up with a handy fill-in-the-blank love letter. Don’t stress yourselves out on the candy aisles at Walmart trying to find that perfect puppy card. Just simply personalize the following letter and send it to your Valentine this year.

Dear (name of love interest),

You have the (favorite quality of your love interest). I think of you every time I (time/place you think of your love interest). I would greatly enjoy (activity you’d like to participate in with your love interest) with you. Valentines day is coming up very soon. I think we should get together on February 14, 2012 at (place you’d like to go with you love interest). That way you can become my Valentine. And then we can fall in love. If this sounds like a great plan and you’d love to be my Valentine also please check yes. If this sounds like a terrible idea just check no, but please don’t file a restraining order.

____ YES!!!              ____NO!!

(Your name)

I’ve taken the time to fill out my own love letter as an example, if you need reference to how to fill out yours. I know sometimes expressing true feelings is difficult. I wrote mine to Shea Weber of the Nashville Predators. (Because he’s dreamy and I’d like to be his Valentine. Duh)

Dear Shea Weber of the Nashville Predators,

You have the most beautiful 5 o’clock shadow. I think of you every time I watch a hockey game on the television. I would greatly enjoy holding hands and making googly eyes with you. Valentines day is coming up very soon. I think we should get together on February 14, 2012 at The Hard Rock Cafe in Nashville. That way you can become my Valentine. And then we can fall in love. If this sounds like a great plan and you’d love to be my Valentine also please check yes. If this sounds like a terrible idea please check no, but please don’t file a restraining order.

____ YES!!!              ____NO!!


It’s perfect. It gets my true feelings across and gets straight to the point of my desire to be Shea’s valentine. I can’t think of a better way to find true love than through this very phenomenally constructed letter. If you really want to catch your love’s eye glue it onto a doily such as this one. Then it’s a sure thing.

No one can say not to a love letter on a doily

I’ll be honest though. I don’t know the success rate of this letter. I haven’t tried it yet. Luckily I’ve got until the 14th to find my Valentine. So for best results I recommend sending a letter everyday until the 14th.* You can send it to the same person over and over or choose a different person everyday. All 14 people can’t turn you down, right? So get started constructing your love letters guys. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors for love.

See you guys later. I’m off to the post office to send Shea my love letter!

*I actually do not recommend this if you enjoy being a respected member of society and not having 14 restraining orders against you. If you do like restraining orders than by all means, carry on.

I’ve Been Told I Have a Lovely Blog….

I’m new to this whole blogging community thing. Turns out there’s a whole invisible, made up award competetion.  When you’re nominated for this made up award you have to participate appropriately. At least that’s the message I’m receiving.

So first I guess I’m supposed to thank the person who nominated me. It was this guy at The Life and Times of Nathan Badley. However, I’m almost positive he didn’t do it because he thinks my blog is lovely. I suspect it was solely to ruin my life, because I personally don’t even find my blog lovely and it belongs to me. If it were my child I would feel mediocre about it. So that’s probably bad, but thanks anyway badlandsbadley.

Now the rules of this invisible award say I have to come up with 7 interesting facts about myself. I don’t have any interesting facts about myself. But I’ll do my best.

1. I just watched the finale of Kourtney and Kim Take New York. My main reason was to see Kim’s marriage fall apart. This makes me a horrible person. A really horrible person.

2. I just made some flat bread all by myself. I think I deserve another award for that.

3. I do really stupid things a lot. They mostly involve around watching MTV reality shows.

4. I’ve recently made it my personal mission to tweet to Warner Bros, the NBA, Blake Griffin, Lebron James and Muggsy Bogues every single day until I have convinced all of them to join forces and film a Space Jam sequel.

5. On a related note, badlandsbadley (the bum who nominated me and the sole reason I’m coming up with interesting facts) got tweeted at by Muggsy Bogues. I’m pretty much still writhing in jealousy about this.

6. I didn’t win a contest to get to design a mask for Pekka Rinne, the Nashville Predators goalie, and I’m probably just gonna go ahead and let it ruin the rest of my day.

7. One time I tripped and ripped a large hole in my leg on a pool table. I don’t know if that’s interesting but I think I’m probably the only person capable of such a thing.

Okay there’s 7 not really interesting facts, but I tried. I guess the last step in this nomination process is to send this fun little game to 10 others blogs. I’m not cool enough to have blog friends….so……..this is awkward. Um. I’ll just pull out a neat contest called “the first people to like this and/or comment get nominated” because….I don’t want to make anyone feel bad!….YA THAT’S IT. I don’t want to pick anyone because I don’t want anyone’s feelings to get hurt because I don’t think they’re blog is lovely. It has nothing to do with the fact that I have a serious lack of neat blog friends.

And now no one will like this, or comment and then, well, then I don’t know where we’ll be.

A Little Trip Inside My Brain

Daily I visit a little website known as Yahoo. It’s the only way to get the news really. They have this handy little list on the side that tells what the most popular things in the world are at that current moment. Here’s what it says right now.

Pretty lame right? Except for that world’s smallest frog thing. Tiny frogs are great. Anyway, want to know what the trending topics would be if Yahoo was in my brain right now? No? WELL THATS TOO BAD CAUSE I’M GONNA TELL YOU ANYWAY!

01. David Legwand
This guy’s a Nashville Predators hockey player. What with my recent hockey obsession I’ve been watching them play hockey on tv a lot. David Legwand is missing a front tooth. And always is missing it. I have spent minutes of my life wondering if he has a tooth when he’s not playing hockey. Does he take it out to play and put it back in when he goes out into the real world? I DON’T KNOW. It’s eating away at me.





02. Hoodie Draw Strings
Why do these exist? I’ve only seen people use them ironically or to entrap their friends faces as a practical joke. If it’s cold I’ll wear a hood but I don’t tie those darn strings. I find myself chewing on them like a small child would. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

03. Tim Tebow
This is self-explanatory. I love Tim Tebow.






04. Tennessee Blizzard of 2012
Don’t look it up guys. It doesn’t exist. Apparently everyone who lives here thinks it does though. It snowed yesterday. It was all gone this morning. Yet every school was canceled today. I wish I had grown up here.

05. Viggo Mortenson
I’ve seen several advertisements saying he’s on David Letterman tonight. I didn’t know he was still alive/making movies.



06. Baseball

I’m real excited for baseball season. I’ve been trying to decide who I should become a fan of here in Nashville. They have a minor league team who goes to Milwaukee so I could like the Brewers. Or I could like the Braves. Or I could like the Cardinals (HA. No I couldn’t!!! JOKES!) But seriously. I need to decide SOON. I need an allegiance to someone or baseball season will be depressing and I’ll just continually remember that I can’t go to the All-Star game in Kansas City and I’ll cry a lot.

07. How do birds mate
SERIOUSLY!!! I don’t get it!

08. Claude Giroux
I somehow found myself watching HBO’s 24/7 Rangers/Flyers Road to the Winter Class. (HA! Found myself watching. I did it on purpose guys!) Claude Giroux plays for the Flyers. The Predators are playing the Flyers tomorrow. I’d like to get up real early and buy tickets in the morning to see him in person. I think I will. Ok. Done thinking.

09. Ilya Bryzgalov
Also from the 24/7 HBO series. Absolutely everything he says is funny. Because he’s Russian. And he’s basically just a nut job. Also all my brain thinks about is hockey I guess.

10. Super Mario Galaxy
I got this game for my Wii for Christmas. It’s like REALLY hard. I’ve been looking up ways to beat it on the internet like the 12 year old cheater I am. I’ve been doing really well at not throwing my controls when it makes me lose over and over and over and over. Maybe I’m losing my Nintendo ability as I age. I sure hope not.

I’m real sorry if you read all the way through that. It had to have been a terrifying experience. Trust me. I live with this everyday. It’s SO scary being my brain.