So as I'm perusing the channel lineup (online, that is) for what tier of service I want to buy for cable at the new place (move-in date 9/15); I'm struck realizing for two channels, alone, I have to go with the whole package.
What two channels? The NHL Network and the NFL Network.
Yep, if they don't screw you with the ticket prices, they'll get ya with the TV stuff.
Oh well, I'll watch the hell out of both of those channels, so to me, they're worth the extra price level.
The NFL is a given ... but damn am I looking forward to the NHL network. Hockey, 24-7-365. Hell to the yes.
I mean, outside of the classic series and classic games and old-time hockey (Can I get a shout of Eddie Shore?), today I'd so watch "A Day In The Life of Manny Malhotra" ... formerly of the Columbus Blue Jackets. (Yes, it's a real show.)
I've not seen the show, but based on the fact training camp invites have been sent to several of his peers, he remains an unrestricted free agent with a telephone that's not ringing, it might go something like this:
"Hi. It's 6:30. I'm Manny Malhotra of the Please-Some-GM-Offer-Me-A-Contracts. I'm a pretty good center. By that I mean the freaking Blue Jackets let me walk away. So it's September, I should be in training camp, but here I am, sitting by the phone."
We cut to the kitchen. Manny is eating some Wheaties. They are the breakfast of champions. One has to admire his optimism. From the left, Mrs. Manny (Joanna, sister of Steve Nash ... for reals) appears. She sits down and pours a bowl. She asks Manny to pass the milk. He misses her hand by about 18 inches, and watches as the milk falls to the table, but somehow, doesn't spill.
You hear a door open. A man wearing a Red Wings jersey walks briskly through the kitchen, not even looking as Manny stands up. The stranger grabs the milk off the table. He slaps Manny in the chops when Manny says "Hey, that's my milk" but never slows down, nor drops the milk.
Manny and Mrs. Manny watch the guy walk away. Mrs. Manny hands her hubby a towel. He sits back down holding it up to his bleeding mouth. Nothing is said about him refusing to challenge his neighbor to a fight, or defend his honor, or get his milk back. Apparently, that's as common at home as a defender stealing the puck, slapping him in the shin and skating away is on the ice.
His wife looks at him. Says "Hey, since I can't eat dry cereal, can you at least put the bowl in the sink?" She watches as Manny walk slowly across the kitchen, all alone, and drops the bowl on the floor, missing a wide-open sink despite having no defense or goalie in the way. Again, his wife looks on as if this is nothing out of the ordinary.
Manny then trips on the hardwood floor as he turns around. Shaking his head, he stands up, looks around for a phantom call from the ref, then heads back to the living room. He sits at the end of his couch, next to the phone.
Which still isn't ringing.
"I don't get it. I was drafted in the first round by the New York Friggin' Rangers. And now the Blue Jerkits won't even sign me?" Sigh.
(Fade)
Hell yeah. I'd watch the shit out of that show. But you Blue Jackets fans saw that all last season ... didn't ya?
What two channels? The NHL Network and the NFL Network.
Yep, if they don't screw you with the ticket prices, they'll get ya with the TV stuff.
Oh well, I'll watch the hell out of both of those channels, so to me, they're worth the extra price level.
The NFL is a given ... but damn am I looking forward to the NHL network. Hockey, 24-7-365. Hell to the yes.
I mean, outside of the classic series and classic games and old-time hockey (Can I get a shout of Eddie Shore?), today I'd so watch "A Day In The Life of Manny Malhotra" ... formerly of the Columbus Blue Jackets. (Yes, it's a real show.)
I've not seen the show, but based on the fact training camp invites have been sent to several of his peers, he remains an unrestricted free agent with a telephone that's not ringing, it might go something like this:
"Hi. It's 6:30. I'm Manny Malhotra of the Please-Some-GM-Offer-Me-A-Contracts. I'm a pretty good center. By that I mean the freaking Blue Jackets let me walk away. So it's September, I should be in training camp, but here I am, sitting by the phone."
We cut to the kitchen. Manny is eating some Wheaties. They are the breakfast of champions. One has to admire his optimism. From the left, Mrs. Manny (Joanna, sister of Steve Nash ... for reals) appears. She sits down and pours a bowl. She asks Manny to pass the milk. He misses her hand by about 18 inches, and watches as the milk falls to the table, but somehow, doesn't spill.
You hear a door open. A man wearing a Red Wings jersey walks briskly through the kitchen, not even looking as Manny stands up. The stranger grabs the milk off the table. He slaps Manny in the chops when Manny says "Hey, that's my milk" but never slows down, nor drops the milk.
Manny and Mrs. Manny watch the guy walk away. Mrs. Manny hands her hubby a towel. He sits back down holding it up to his bleeding mouth. Nothing is said about him refusing to challenge his neighbor to a fight, or defend his honor, or get his milk back. Apparently, that's as common at home as a defender stealing the puck, slapping him in the shin and skating away is on the ice.
His wife looks at him. Says "Hey, since I can't eat dry cereal, can you at least put the bowl in the sink?" She watches as Manny walk slowly across the kitchen, all alone, and drops the bowl on the floor, missing a wide-open sink despite having no defense or goalie in the way. Again, his wife looks on as if this is nothing out of the ordinary.
Manny then trips on the hardwood floor as he turns around. Shaking his head, he stands up, looks around for a phantom call from the ref, then heads back to the living room. He sits at the end of his couch, next to the phone.
Which still isn't ringing.
"I don't get it. I was drafted in the first round by the New York Friggin' Rangers. And now the Blue Jerkits won't even sign me?" Sigh.
(Fade)
Hell yeah. I'd watch the shit out of that show. But you Blue Jackets fans saw that all last season ... didn't ya?
