WEDNESDAYS #7 vs. TILE CUTTERS:

(vol. 20W, no. 7; newsletter by b.n.)
The life of a writer is a lonely existence. Long hours sitting in front of computer screen - typing away into the darkness of the night. And what happens after all those long hours of putting your blood, sweat and tears into your work? Very often you get the standard rejection slip. Usually it's a form letter that has been photocopied and stuffed into an envelope. Usually you yearn for some type of feedback — a note scribble on the back of the form, a critique— something, anything. Of course in the rare occasion when you do get feedback it is inevitably in the following form:

-----Original Message-----
From: Harriss88@aol.com [mailto:Harriss88@aol.com]
Sent: Monday, December 20, 2004 11:26 AM To: bnewcomb@inlineservicesinc.com

you know you are kind of an asshole ... thasnk for nothing.

Hmmm, maybe the personal attention isn't all it's cracked up to be (of course I probably deserved that one, but that is the subject for another newsletter.) Anyway, sometimes I wonder why I bother writing the newsletter when it seems that I get nothing but grief about it. In the meeting after the game the other night someone asked me why I couldn't write a newsletter similar to the classic Mike Farrell newsletter: “We suck Especially #67.” Speaking of Mike, he admitted that he didn't even read the last newsletter! (Well that is not really a surprise since Mike didn't play in the last game and chances are he wouldn't have been mentioned in the newsletter — so why would he read the newsletter?

With all that said, it was quite refreshing to hear someone after last Wednesday's game actually excited about reading the upcoming newsletter: So what if that person happened to score five goals against the Pirates on the night — at least someone out there cares! Unfortunately, the editor of this newsletter passed down an edict after the game: “He (meaning the person that scored the five goals) doesn't get mentioned in the newsletter.” Hmmmm. You know what, after thinking about it, screw the editor, I am going to use his name! Let's see the editor stop me!

The Pirates came into the Wednesday night game against the Tile Cutters tied for fourth place in the standings with them. With just two games remaining in the season, the Pirates needed the win in the worst way to lock-up a spot in the playoffs. Unfortunately, the Pirates spotted the Tile Cutters a six-goal lead and waited until there was 6:30 minutes remaining in the game before they suddenly decided to show up. Other then (name deleted by editor - ed.) scoring four goals, there is nothing worth mentioning in the first 35:30 minutes. When Craig Sudol scored the goal to make it 6-1, the reaction on the bench was one of relief, but really nobody thought the Pirates were coming back. Then the Pirates went on a powerplay and Jimmy picked-up goal off a pass from Chris. The momentum had clearly shifted and the Pirates were suddenly flying. Going into another powerplay, the Pirates took a timeout to get organized. AT this time, Mike had the quote of the night: “Come on, we scored two goals in 40 minutes, do you really think we will score four more in the last 4 minutes?” That's what I like about Mike — always the optimist. After the timeout, Jimmy picked-up yet another goal on a feed from Craig. Shortly thereafter, Scott Miller raced down the right wing and blasted a shot from the blueline that beat the goalie clean to make the score 6-4 with just over 2:00 minutes remaining. With Harris pulled, the Pirates were swarming all around the net; Jimmy had a great chance to complete the hattrick when he found himself on the open side of the net, but could not redirect the puck out air — although he got a piece of it, but not enough. At this point in the game, there was not a Pirate on the bench (other then Mike Farrell) who didn't think we could pull it out. Then (name deleted by editor - ed.) fired the puck from his own face-off circle passed a flailing Dave Matthews into the empty net for his fifth tally of the evening. Oh well, I guess Mike was right after all.

(editor's note: Brian, if Gucci wants to read his name on the web, let him write his own damn newsletter!)