I turned 22 yesterday and I was hoping someone might be able to answer some of my questions.
For example, I spend nearly everyday of my life alone so why do you make a big deal about it on my birthday? Why is this the day you care?
If we have not talked in over year, probably since my last birthday when you posted happy birthday on my wall, why thy sudden interest in my life?
I guess my real question is this, are you really my friend?
The English language is vague in the way we use words. I am friends with Ande Thomas, whom I consider my best friend and I am friends with people on facebook whom I am not sure I have ten minute conversation before.
In Greek and Latin and almost every other language, the word friend is much more descriptive. The words they used for friend is best translated to lover.
I guess the real question is do you love me because I do not think you do and if you do, you suck at showing it.
Happy Birthday...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Ode to Old Mellon...
I was there.
The Guins were down 3-0 in the series against the Flyers and everyone in the old Civic Arena knew what was riding on this game. If we did not win this game the season would be over and our dreams of drinking once again from “Lord Stanley’s Fabled Cup” would be prolonged until next season. Not only had this hung in the balance but two of our biggest stars, Mario Lemieux and Joey Mullen’s career where all but over, everyone knew of their impending retirement, everybody but me.
I was 11 and I loved hockey. I remember those good old days of Pittsburgh Hockey before it was such a “fad.” The stands where filled with true fans of hockey, not the corporate business type trying to woo their customers but big guys in overalls and mullets. My grandfather had taken me to the game and our seats where on the Penguins side, above the goal. We got their early because I loved to watch the warm-ups. I felt like a scout as I watched Philadelphia take their practice shots against their goalie, Garth Snow. Leaning over to my Pap I said, “He is letting up some easy ones.” I remember feeling confident that Penguins would easily defeat the Flyers and I was right, we won the game 4-1.
Details of the game are blurry. I do not remember who scored what goals, who hit who and even who the three stars where (besides Mario). The thing I remember the most was the last minute of that game. The Flyers where trying desperately to put another one on the board. They dumped the puck into our zone and gained possession and started cycling the puck to one another. Mario deflected a pass that found its way onto Ian Moran’s stick. Moran fired a pass to the blue line where he found Mario Lemieux on the break away. By the time Mario entered the Flyers territory he was a full stick lengths away from any defender, he glided from left to right. Standing on my seat to see past the sea heads of all the other fans that were standing on their feet, I saw Mario fire one over the glove hand side of Garth Snow. The puck hit the twine, the lamp lit and old Civic Arena erupted with cheer.
After the goal my Grandfather had seen enough and we started to exit early from the game (against my protest). I remember hearing the announcer announce the three stars as we reached my grandfathers Ford Expedition and number 66 was announced as number one. As we left Civic Arena’s parking lot, I remember the noise the most; Cars honking, air horns blasting and the most dominant noise of all; “MARIO MARIO MARIO!!!” The noise did not cease until we were well out of the Squirrel Hill Tunnels. My pap turned down the post game on the radio and said to me, “Zachary, remember this night as long as you live.”
We all know how this story ends. The Pens would lose the next game in Philly and Lemieux retired.
Recently I have moved to Philadelphia to attend Eastern University and when people ask me about what they view as a strange obsession with hockey and my beloved Penguins, I tell them this story. I tell them about how Mario saved us, not once, not twice but three times. I tell them of the days of the Student Rush line and how Georges Laraque handed me a pizza. The old Igloo will be missed but let’s hope the Consol Energy Center will be the site of many more good memories.
The Guins were down 3-0 in the series against the Flyers and everyone in the old Civic Arena knew what was riding on this game. If we did not win this game the season would be over and our dreams of drinking once again from “Lord Stanley’s Fabled Cup” would be prolonged until next season. Not only had this hung in the balance but two of our biggest stars, Mario Lemieux and Joey Mullen’s career where all but over, everyone knew of their impending retirement, everybody but me.
I was 11 and I loved hockey. I remember those good old days of Pittsburgh Hockey before it was such a “fad.” The stands where filled with true fans of hockey, not the corporate business type trying to woo their customers but big guys in overalls and mullets. My grandfather had taken me to the game and our seats where on the Penguins side, above the goal. We got their early because I loved to watch the warm-ups. I felt like a scout as I watched Philadelphia take their practice shots against their goalie, Garth Snow. Leaning over to my Pap I said, “He is letting up some easy ones.” I remember feeling confident that Penguins would easily defeat the Flyers and I was right, we won the game 4-1.
Details of the game are blurry. I do not remember who scored what goals, who hit who and even who the three stars where (besides Mario). The thing I remember the most was the last minute of that game. The Flyers where trying desperately to put another one on the board. They dumped the puck into our zone and gained possession and started cycling the puck to one another. Mario deflected a pass that found its way onto Ian Moran’s stick. Moran fired a pass to the blue line where he found Mario Lemieux on the break away. By the time Mario entered the Flyers territory he was a full stick lengths away from any defender, he glided from left to right. Standing on my seat to see past the sea heads of all the other fans that were standing on their feet, I saw Mario fire one over the glove hand side of Garth Snow. The puck hit the twine, the lamp lit and old Civic Arena erupted with cheer.
After the goal my Grandfather had seen enough and we started to exit early from the game (against my protest). I remember hearing the announcer announce the three stars as we reached my grandfathers Ford Expedition and number 66 was announced as number one. As we left Civic Arena’s parking lot, I remember the noise the most; Cars honking, air horns blasting and the most dominant noise of all; “MARIO MARIO MARIO!!!” The noise did not cease until we were well out of the Squirrel Hill Tunnels. My pap turned down the post game on the radio and said to me, “Zachary, remember this night as long as you live.”
We all know how this story ends. The Pens would lose the next game in Philly and Lemieux retired.
Recently I have moved to Philadelphia to attend Eastern University and when people ask me about what they view as a strange obsession with hockey and my beloved Penguins, I tell them this story. I tell them about how Mario saved us, not once, not twice but three times. I tell them of the days of the Student Rush line and how Georges Laraque handed me a pizza. The old Igloo will be missed but let’s hope the Consol Energy Center will be the site of many more good memories.
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