I believe in miracles

Last night I had a dream that Ulanov played in a game. Then I awoke and was bitch-smacked by the cold, dark reality of the situation. My favourite Russian-Canadian may never play an NHL game again. Something must be done.

Dear MacT,

I believe in miracles. Remember the time that Ulanov scored two goals in one game? That was pretty great. Sometimes for a miracle to happen though, it needs a little help on the ground. You know what you need to do.

Let's go for the hat trick,

The Unofficial Igor Ulanov Fan Club

Poetry in motion

All quiet on the Ulanov front. You know, just like the Western front.

Ulanovistics

In this time of uncertainty as to the future of our beloved defenseman, I think it's a good idea to reflect on his past, and think of his accomplishments. My favourite is the 153 career points (I don't think the site is completely up-to-date, so the numbers are probably a little off). That's almost as much as Gretzky, isn't it? Of course, Wayne had an unfair advantage, being a forward and all.

It's a cruel, cruel world.

Apparently we're popular in Moscow. No, not the Land O'Samsonov. There is apparently a place in Idaho called Moscow, and people seem to visit here a lot, according to that tracker thing. Also, we've had a visitor from Minsk. How awesome.

Anyway, because of some sort of twisted situation, Cross played in the Edmonton-Detroit game, and Ulanov didn't. Not that I'm suggesting that Ulanov should have ended up in Detroit. That would have been very bad.

Bertuzzi secures his place in HELL!

I'd first like to start out by saying that this post would have appeared a lot sooner had our wireless internet not been as useless as Cory Cross on a slippery surface.

Ahem. This photo is available on E-bay. I have put a stop to my E-bay spending (ridiculously cheap hockey cards do add up, you know), but I would like to point out that this would make an excellent birthday gift for someone (I mean me. My birthday is Oct. 25, the same as Pablo Picasso's. He shuffled off of the mortal coil some years ago, therefore I don't think a 4x6 autographed picture of the Magical Mr. Ulanov would serve him any purpose).

I hope Bertuzzi got a penalty for what appears to be some sort of scandalous tripping affair. Then maybe Ovechkin materialised on the ice and scored a goal, taking Canada out of medal contention.

Speaking of the devil, I'm going to Vancouver tomorrow. We'll be in the air during the Edmonton-Calgary game, much to our chagrin. However on Saturday we plan on finding a sports bar, consuming copious amounts of beer and watching Hockey Night in Canada while heckling the TV screen as the Oilers (sans Ulanov, no doubt) take on Detroit. So don't wait up.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I have an inside source who has recently informed me that there are some kids somehwere (the "where" will remain nameless) that refer to a klutz or a klutzy act as an "Ulanov." This displeases me. Kids, the man has been playing in the NHL longer than you have been alive. Show your elders some respect, I say. Besides, it's actually called a "Conklin."

I hope Cory Cross didn't bother unpacking his bags while in Pittsburgh. Also, I miss Mike Morrison already (and Ottawa has done something funny to his picture).

One for the picture frame.

I was going to make a post about the newest addition to The Oilers, but then this showed up in my inbox. And it's so much cooler. Yes, that t-shirt was definitely worth the forty-six bucks I spent to have it made. Elation.

Fulfilling a promise

So we said that when our autographed puck arrived that there would be a picture in it for you, the loyal readers. Well get ready to have your collective minds blown. We have for you not one, but two pictures of the puck, and they're candid photos of said puck in the bathroom! Unfortunately for people who have eyes and use them, I can't seem to make the pictures the same size or appear symmetrically within the post. Therefore, you get to dab at the bloody tears this will cause with your tissues. Sorry about that. There is also a comment that all of our readers should check out, left by yours truly.

P.S. Instead of cleaning my toilet, I just photoshopped the image. See if you can find the subtle indicators.

Igor Ulanov: The Soldier

I went to the San Jose vs. Edmonton game on Friday. Our seats were close enough so that we could see the players' faces on the ice. It was great. Ulanov didn't play, but luckily I was prepared for that before I went to the game.
They always have credit card applications at the games, and they draw in the crowds by advertising free gifts. Well I'm never one to turn down free shit especially if it's free Oilers shit, so I now have an Oilers beach towel to add to my collection of free Oilers shit. Most of it sits in my closet, but not this one. I think I'll use it as a cape. Or a skirt. I would totally wear that in public.
Before the game, they showed a video clip and gave each of the Oilers a niche. Pronger was The Backbone, Peca was The Specialist, Torres, Stoll and Pisani were the Young Guns (mais ils ne sont pas robustes comme Ulanov quand il était un jeune fusil), The goalies were The Rearguards (maybe Spacek and Tarnstrom were too. I can't remember what they were), Hemsky was The Finesse, Bergeron was The Shot, Staios was The Grit, Smith was The Captain (how original), Horcoff was The Producer, Moreau was The Heart and Smyth was The Soul. And Ulanov? The Soldier.
We actually won the game too. Conklin played the entire game and only let in two goals. My friend j-roc suggested that it was a great "a-conk-lishment." I told him that he should apply to write headlines for The Edmonton Sun, the world's classiest newspaper (actual headline: Osama Bin Hiden). There were rowdy middle-aged men who were heckling Conklin, and there was an almost-scuffle between them and the Pro-Conklin twentysomethings a few rows up. Oh, beer (a note to the VP: it was nine dollar beer night).

Awesome display of goaltending...

...by Curtis Sanford. I was impressed. Markkanen (and to a certain extent Morrison) was another story. Of course I could not have done any better. But that's why I get paid ten bucks an hour to put handles on ice cream buckets (hey, it helps pay tuition). Welcome back to the NHL, boys.
You had to know this was coming (or you didn't look very hard at the title of this blog): Ulanov played last night. I don't know what it is, but watching him play puts me in a good mood. Tarnstrom was back in the mix last night. It was interesting to see him play.
My friend has invited me to the San Jose game on Friday, which is very exciting for me. There has been talk of Jason Smith returning to play in Friday's game. It will be the first time I've gone to a game in about three years, and it would be great if Ulanov were to play. So. Yeah, Jason...how's the toe really feeling? Because you shouldn't push your luck with those things. But I wish you all the best.

Fond memories of autograph station number four

Alright. I was waiting for photographic proof, but I have been told that such proof might take a while to get into my hands. And I can't keep this story to myself (off the blog...I've hardly kept this story to myself off the internet). My favourite day so far of '06? February 26th. It played out like this...
I arrived home at 4am after depositing various drunkards into their homes. I woke up at 10:30, made some cookies and some phone calls. Then I made myself pretty, put on a great t-shirt and hopped into the trusty Camry (which on second inspection was still vomit-free, much to my relief). I then made my way to Kinsway Garden Mall with items that I have mentioned in previous post in hand. I could feel it was going to be a good day. Yes, I could feel it in my bones. Ok, now we're at 1:15pm, in case you were wondering (which you weren't).
Anyway, I lined up at the Morrison, Horcoff and Ulanov table, which was lucky for me because they are three of my six favourite Oilers. My friend and I made it to the table eventually, hitting Morrison first (not literally...I couldn't hit a face like that), who took one look at my t-shirt and said, "That just makes it." Whatever that means. So he got Igor's attention and Igor started to laugh and told me multiple times that he loved my t-shirt (complete with his hot little Russian accent) so they Oilers picture guy took my picture with him. Apparently they'll e-mail it to me. I probably acted like a teenaged girl meeting the Backstreet Boys, or whoever those teenaged girls listen to nowadays (for the record, I never listened to the Backstreet Boys). I wasn't squealy, I just lost my ability to form coherent sentences. It's funny that I'm normally quite a big fan of Mr. Horcoff as well, but I barely paid him any attention. I had my eye on the prize, I guess.
After that awesome Ulanov-related experience, I dragged my friend to see my other three favourite Oilers, Dvorak, Pisani and Bergeron (I'm a fan of men with hyphenated French names, whether they play for our team or just give the Oilers lengthy power plays). Unfortunately those three were all spread out at different stations and the lines were too long. I also stayed away from the Night Prowler station, as that was the one with the highest concentration of squealing girls. Squealing girls are loathsome.
So, there you have it. That is my success story. And this is a ridiculously long post.

Things I learned on Sunday:
1. There are varying degrees of sexiness of the Russian accent.
2. Shawn Horcoff looks mighty attractive in a tuque.
3. I am incapable of detecting a Massachusetts accent when Igor Ulanov is in my field of vision.
4. It is indeed possible for me to be a bigger fan of Igor Ulanov than I was last week.

And the t-shirt loves you too, Igor.