So we're back to a tied 2nd place. Carolina plays the Boston Bruins tonight, so we'll see how things stand after that. I, for one, am looking forward to the Battle of the Russians on Wednesday night.
Here's a question for everybody: When can we officially consider the hockey season "down to the wire?" Things are getting tense now, but it seems a bit too early to call this the beginning of Down to the Wire. Will it begin for us on our upcoming road trip? When we return? Or are things not officially Down to the Wire until, like, the last two games?
Did anyone see how hobbled and broken Martin St. Louis looked Saturday night after getting roughed up by Bobby Holik? Hilarious.
Meanwhile, Richard Zednik is going to be fine. That was well and truly horrifying; I think I speak for the entire Blueland Chronicle when I say "Get well soon Panther King!
I don't have a whole lot to say about hockey today, readers, and I apologize. Perhaps Big Shooter/Big T/T-Man will have something hockey-oriented AND substantial later today. For now I thought I'd direct your attention to a new 2-volume set of books by English essayist and critic William Hazlitt. It's a selection of some essays and articles that haven't been available in book form before, and it's titled "New Writings."
Why is this interesting, you ask? Well, Hazlitt has been dead for nearly 180 years. He was the finest prose writer of his age, an associate and friend of Wordsworth and Coleridge before violently breaking with them over political disagreements, and a good friend and intellectual mentor to John Keats. His essays covered all sorts of topics: poetry, philosophy, the characters of Shakespeare's plays, the state of infatuation and love, "Whether People Ought to Sit in the Boxes" (which might have some relevance for us frequenters of Phillips Arena), theatre, travel, politics, painting, and more, all in a lively and arresting style. Which becomes doubly impressive when you consider the fact that the man is still writing and publishing essays nearly 180 years after his death. Much like 2-Pac, his productivity refuses to be bound by some boring obstacle like the grave. Keep crankin' 'em out, Hazzy, Thug Life 4Ever.