Little Yurt on the Steppe

On the road to Cyberia I took a wrong turn and ended up on the Great Eastern Plains. Fortunately, a group of Khalkha nomads took me in and taught me the secrets of life on the steppe. Now, I sit in my yurt, eating mutton dumplings and drinking a weak milk tea as I recount my tales of this Mongolian life.

úterý, května 17

Amen

Just an idea for the negotiators: How about just sending up white smoke when an agreement is reached and announcing "Habemus Hockey''? An optional next step could be to have German-born Marco Sturm step out on the balcony a few seconds later. Until then, nothing much will interest us, certainly not the post-meeting statements and descriptions of Bettman's ill-fitting caps and Bob Goodenow's abacus.

From Terry Frei's excellent piece bemoaning the absence of the greatest spectacle in all of sport, the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

(OK, second greatest version. But the Olympic ice hockey tournament comes but once ever four years.)

1 Comments:

Blogger Colleen said...

Happy early birthday to your blog - any plans for celebrating the second anniversary? ;-)

10:50 dop.  

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