Many thanks to James Mirtle who gave this blog a nice little shout-out today.
It's all rather stream-of-consciousness at this point, and not really at all like the at-a-distance sermonizing you often see when mainstream-media types take up the medium. One thing I can say for sure is that it doesn't quite read like any other hockey blog out there, as evidenced by this bit of wisdom from earlier this week:
European pro league games are like European art-house films. If you can say that you've seen them, you might get points for a broad world view--but you wonder if it was really worth it.
Stream of consciousness ... well I hope it's closer to Ulysses than Finnegans Wake. Personally, I've always thought that Dubliners was JJ's best and that what followed was his descent into madness or a cruel joke on the literary dilettanti ... I've never been able to get past 15 or 20 pages of FW.
I've always been more of a fan of Flann O'Brien than Joyce. And in tribute to F O'B (whose act has been shamelessly [Sheamusly?] stolen by John Doyle in the Globe), a regular entry on this blog will be set in a draughty den that I frequent.