Dangerous Hockey

1.  YOU MUST BE A FAN OF THE CURRENT LINEUP!!!  NO exceptions.  AND You must be 18 and be able to PROVE it!

2.  You must be GOING.

3.  You must be a GnR fan that’s going to have a great time!

4.  2 pairs of GENERAL admission tickets will be awarded and emailed to winners.

Read previous post for details.  I will close off entries at 3am EST or Midnight PST.  I will post Winners in AM and contact them TOMORROW to make arrangements.

REMEMBER I am NOT affiliated with the BAND IN ANY WAY.  Thanks to Bumblefoot for getting the word out.  May the best fans win.  Behave and be safe!  Also don’t forget to read some hockey posts if you’re a hockey FAN?  And if you’re not, you’re nutz:)

Love,

Rocque

stay toooned

Nobody was more excited about Ilya’s 17 year deal than my son Max.

Max and Fat Dad....

He immediately put the plan in motion.  Learning from his hometown hero LeBron James, he’s plotting his course to join Kovalchuk in 11 years as his right wing.  Max is 6.  But we had a frank conversation the minute this deal was struck.

Assuming the state of NJ, still exists in 11 years, Max will be the right wing new young stud playing alongside his russian idol.  The plan:

1. We will watch every game he plays for the next 11 years.  I tried to get NHL ticket to give me a discount if I signed a 17 year deal and the hung up on me.
2. Learn Russian.  Max is somewhat fluent in english.  Why not be somewhat fluent in Russian?
3. Meet Kovalchuk.  We are planning a trip to Ridgewood for a charity event.  This will entail a worthwhile risky trip to the Prudential Center.  I hear it’s very unsavory.
4. Finish the fight with Matthew Barnaby.  Max kicked him in the face 2 years ago.  Barnaby said it didn’t hurt.  Max is 2 years older.  He wants another shot.
5. Exploit all his friends, community, teammates for years to come in order to fulfill his dream.  This is the LeBron analogy if it’s not obvious.
6. Have a long discussion with his Christian mom as to why he wants to play for the Devils?
7. Prepare now to resist the temptation to call him “Dad.”  And more importantly, resist the temptation to impregnate his hot Russian daughters.
8. Send Ilya, vitamins and fish oil every Christmas.
9. Start thinking about what number he wants to wear.
10. Plan his debut vs. fashion Icon Sean Avery and kick the living crap out of him.

Somewhere in some lake I never heard of, yet it’s so vividly clear in my head.  On a day that seems surreal anyway because it’s a Monday that feels like a Sunday.  On a boat I can only imagine.  As the sun blazed down on the decks of countless boats, one thing changed forever, in an instant.

Bob Proberts death sparked a lot more “who’s??” than “wow’s” when I started breaking the news.  For some reason my friends and me have an ongoing game of breaking celebrity news death all the way back to pre Princess Di.  The best one was the Michael Jackson is/isn’t, dead one.  The saddest, I’m not sure.  I’ll save that for another article as there were many.

My first exposure to hockey was electrifying.  The Miracle on Ice.  A 12 year old boy living on the tough streets of Cleveland’s inner city.  Fighting, to me, was already a way of life.  But I didn’t know it to be a part of hockey until the mid 80’s.  As I grew up addicted to this game, I got to know more about it than anyone could imagine.  If there was a hockey question on Jeopardy, I’d answer it, the contestants never did.

Hockey and fighting were like peas and carrots.  Or my buddy Tom and V.D.  Slapshot changed my life forever.  No movie could really stand up to it.  It was the perfect hockey movie.  Perfectly cast, perfectly written, filmed and choreographed (the striptease).  What a sport.  Considering that I was raised a begrudged fighter (i had to fight to survive), it was ironic that I never threw a meaningful punch in hockey.  I never had to.  I always had a goon on my team to do it for me. I say goon with all the respect and admiration one could imagine.  It was like being friends with a football player in high school or being a “Made Man” in the mafia.  I was untouchable.  Sure I took a couple of shots and had no problem getting in a guys face because I knew within seconds guys like Eric Burke or Dan Quinn would be jumping over me to get to them.

There’s no training to be a guy like this. It’s innate. Like it is for wives to hate their husbands no matter how good they are to them.  Bob Probert was a man of men.  The toughest of tough guys. He made others circle the date on the calender.  I could only imagine the thoughts going through heads of the other teams “enforcers.”  I’m sure it was something like “$%$^# me.”  Who would stand up?  Who would be victimized?  Bob, you were in many ways, a hockey hero.

RIP Bob, you defined an era.

One fight he couldn’t win, is one I’m all to familiar with.  It killed my father and is trying to kill me.  But I’m winning.  My father didn’t.  In fact I’m making a film about it, “Dead Lenny.”  Without ever knowing him, I’m certain that Bob was severely depressed and had significant mental issues.  What caused them, we’ll probably never know.  It’s nearly impossible to get “tough guys” to come to grips with these types of real and treatable diseases.  Many geniuses die before getting help.  Was Bob a genius?  I say yes.  What say you? I know hockey will never be the same without him.

Best to your family.  NOTE:  If anyone knows of charity to donate on his behalf please let me know.

Rocque

You were one of the last of the modern day tough guys.  A man who other teams feared.  Grown, tough men, feared him like little children feared the bully on the bus.  You wanted him on your side as Detroit and later Chicago had experienced.

Even my father “Dead Lenny,” enjoyed watching the wings when Probert played and my father didn’t like anything he didn’t have a bet on.  The guy was the definition of badass.  I always thought I could hang with NHL players when I was in shape.  Especially the lower end players.  2 things changed that immediately.  1.  Pierre LaRouche, pinning me against the boars in a celebrity game like I was a ragdoll.  2.  Watching Probert fight.

He was a man among boys.  Here are NHL tough guys who were scared like little schoolkids when it came time to tangle with Bob.  Hockey isn’t the same as it was back then, but what I wouldn’t pay for a Probert clone to be on Cleveland’s new NHL team when I land one.  RIP sir.  Nobody judges, but I hope we all learn from it.

While, I could actually care less and my 6 year old literally wants to kick his ass, I decided to appease my lame editor (and nice one) by writing a somewhat (for now) local piece.  Latest report is LeBron left his porch light on all night.  People aren’t sure what to make of this.  Leaders are scrambling to conduct an emergency meeting to investigate.

It’s so hard for me not to vomit on my keyboard while writing about James.  “Thy worst NHL game is better than any NBA game, no?”  said W. Axl Rose.  But it appears to be more important to so many in this city than curing cancer so here goes…….

Why Lord Stanley will Keep LeBron out of Chicago.  It’s simple really.  There’s nothing LeBron can do to cast his shadow over Chicago sports legacies.  Brad Seller’s notwithstanding (i don’t even know if I’m using that word correctly,) Chicago is full of rich sports history that even thy King is not fit for rewriting.  Think about 21 year old Patrick Kane winning his first cup in a city where I’d argue that in spite of Michael Jordon, the Bulls are third, maybe 4th, behind the Hawks, Bears and Cubs.  (sam am I correct?)

So back to the reasons in no particular order:

1. Walter Payton.  I loved that movie where he died.
2. The Hawks……Jonathan Toews 22, Kane 21, will continue to be the toast of Chicago for years to come.
3. Michael Jordan, Scotty Pippen, and those other guys who have 6 rings each.
4. The kid who caught the foul ball.
5. The Fridge. Led the way for fat guys to get touchdowns in NFL.
6. Da Bears.  Ditka and McMahon
7. Blues Brothers
8. Ozzie Guillen
   

   "Now, take me to JAIL!"

   (when he actually murders someone, he’ll move to first for certain.)

9. The Chicago Wolves, because they are hockey.
10. Bob Earl “Butterbean” Love.

The list goes on and on and on.  If you’re searching for immortality, you need to make it happen, not stack the deck.  LeBron in Chicago, NY, LA, or wherever he goes, is about as interesting network television.  If he doesn’t win, it doesn’t matter.  And if he win’s in those places, it matters less.

Is the world cup still on?

Love,
Rocque

I have to make this about hockey first and foremost, so I’ll start by saying I am pretty certain that I’m the only blogger on this earth, who’s played against Jack Lambert in ice hockey.

Talk about DANGEROUS-hockey!

He sucked.   But he sure was ugly and intimidating.  Real intimidating.  Did I say he was intimidating?

On to LeBron.  We’re going to go out on a limb, and say whatever team trades for Chris Paul, Dwight Howard, D-WAYNE Wade, Jesus Christ, and Kobe, will have a SLIGHT edge in landing the King.  Lots of other factors, of course, come into play:

1.  His love for Akron and hatred for Cleveland.

2.  His memories here.

3.  He grew up here (for any of you that did, that’s not necessarily an advantage.)

4.  Whether him and Kobe can share the limelight?

5.  Will any of these players pull a Delante?

6.  Will it be OK if they do?

7.  Which city does the best “we LOVE you” suck up, marketing campaign, to some guy we know absolutely nothing about.  Nor would care about at all, unless you could dunk a basketball.

8.  His business team’s overall goals and strategy.  Translation, his high school buddies who hit the lottery like Paul Allen  (below right, when he found out he was Bill Gates roommate at Harvard.)  I’m not quite certain if LeBron’s buddies went on to higher education quite like Harvard?

"Um, Mom, I think I love my roommate."

9.  Really nothing in particular.

10.  Whoever guesses how many fingers he has behind his back.

Thanks,

Love Rocque