TDR is a working professional in entertainment and is obsessed with the game of hockey. More four years ago, this site emerged as a means (or an outlet) to tell some truth'isms about the game post-lockout, rather than the crud fed to us through knuckleheads like Jimmy Dolan and his lemmings universe. Today, there are a hundred Rangers sites and is thankful and grateful to all those that have come after him, but honorable thanks go to his fellow Dark-writers, Graying Mantis and J_Undisputed. And "Let's Go Rangers!"
Bio of Graying Mantis
Graying Mantis is in fact a graying legal practitioner by day (and sometimes, alas, by night). In the cobwebs of his memory, he recalls starting to follow the Blueshirts in 1970 and remembers watching pivotal playoff games against the Blackhawks on a snow-covered Hartford t.v. channel in their 1972 march to the Finals. Giacomin, Gilbert, Ratelle, and Hadfield seen skating on a small B&W TV screens always will be among his first Ranger memories. He is grateful beyond words for the opportunity to work with his colleagues here in their never ending battle to inform and entertain. Most of all, he appreciates the chance to engage with fellow hockey fans.
Bio of J_Undisputed
"J_Undisputed is an Information Tech Professional; a student, and on and off in his dreams, Mike Richter. He caught his first glimpse of Rangers Hockey when an overtime preempted his favorite pro wrestling broadcast on WWOR-9 one late saturday night when he was 5 and he's been hooked ever since. He's been watching the Rangers for 30 years despite family attempts to make him an Islander Fan (Rest easy...they're out of the will). What started as a minor annoyance has become a life long passion (and at times, a frustration...But he wouldn't trade it for anything). Lets Go Rangers!"
Bio of General Ganz
General Ganz is a cynical yet well-informed student of the human spirit. He's a professional of sorts, with a post-graduate education, some experience working in real companies, and some limited athletic ability. The total small package. He got picked on a fair bit as a kid, and he experienced his first human-non-relation kiss in his teens. He also grew up on the other side of the tracks, thereby helping to cultivate a healthy contempt for dreamers and optimists whose rosy upbringing gave them something to smile about, even when "life produced lemons." Like it or not, his only mission is to point out the potholes you're lucky enough to miss on your drive to work. To find the blemish on your daughter's carefully-stitched (and not-yet-paid-for) wedding dress. To take that little smidgen of hope that your favorite hockey teams fill you with, and pour orange paint on it. Oh, and he is a Blueshirts fan, and takes most of his fashion direction from Ron Duguay (whose name he dropped as a way to close the deal on that first kiss).
Dear New York Rangers, Remember it every time you’re coasting through the neutral zone behind the play and think, “I’m tired…” or “I’m sore…” ; remember it every time you choose to use a half hearted poke check instead of ripping into an opposing player with a hard bodycheck; remember it every time your goalie is run and laying under a pile of opposing players. Remember it every time you look down at your chest and see the “C” or “A”. Remember it whenever you see a call up hustle his ass off, hoping to get a position you’re already in and taking for granted. Most of all, remember it when you’re whining about your 6 figure paycheck; walking around the greatest city in the world or into an arena to see your name stitched across the shoulders of people that break their backs to make the smallest fraction of what you make yet still find a way to spend 250 bucks to pay homage to you; remember it when you’re making reservations at fine restaurants and you say "of the New York Rangers" after your name; remember it when you're cruising in your exotic sportcars down the street and people are pointing; or lying next to the supermodel flavor of the week in afterglow… because you’ve hardly proved that you deserve any of this and are playing like nobodies. This above is the image that will haunt you in your sleep. The wuss many of you voted as the biggest whiner in the league, still managed to score 3 goals on you and along with the rest of his team (5 F*CKING GOALS), remain unscathed. The torrential downpour of cheap give away hats hurled by watered down, mainstream Bettman manufactured fans… celebrating him and his band of league protected cronies, making you look like fools. The worst part of it is, they weren’t even trying that hard. This is not about the inconsistencies of youth, nor the lacking abilities of a backup goaltender… Every team suffers a drubbing at one time or another. This is about whether the loss (along with your collective @$$) was gift wrapped and handed to you or if it had to be crammed down your collective throats. What I saw was a team that had something to say but didn’t want to cause a stir, so they (except for a few) took the abuse, hung their heads and walked away. My congratulations go out to Avery, Brashear, Callahan, Voros and every other player, like Matt Gilroy (in tampa), who managed to dig down deep (into their cups and rediscover they had a pair.) It wasn’t pretty and sometimes downright ugly, but they knew their job… they knew the jersey were wearing and defended it… and win or lose… for the minutes spent sitting in the locker room or the penalty box, only thought “and I”D DO IT AGAIN!!!” This should come as nothing new to the rest of you, yet you seem to stand around bewildered as if you have forgotten what it means to play with an edge and so you don’t become someone’s B*tch ... even if that means going out on your shield sometimes This Sh*bird team has your dignity in their back pockets! Whether they took it or you handed it over will be argued (for about 20 secs), and I say with the most heartfelt sincerity as a fan, GO GET IT BACK… and don’t leave the building tonight until you have… pansies.
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