...and we're back. What did we get up to, you ask? Well, we ran into some Ruskie mafioso friends of Ovechkin (OK, I don't know that they were Ovechkin's friends) in a terrifying bar in Adams-Morgan DC, saw with our own eyes Joe Biden's helicopter, and attended Razor Catch Prey's bachelor party on a deer-governed island off the coast of somewhere. About the bachelor party it might be wise to be reticent, but perhaps I'll work some of its events into Ten Gallon Dick.
What happened while we were gone? The first two games of the Stanley Cup Finals, of course. How 'bout those Blackhawks? I'm heartened by how watchable this year's finals are, and maybe even more heartened by the hefty ratings this hockey tournament is getting. So, hooray! For hockey, for all of us, etc...
In other news, I see some of you strongly doubt my implication that Steve Yzerman will be a better GM than Rick Dudley. Feel free to email me about an actual monetary bet, if you fancy. Whatever awkwardness Yzerman will have with Team Canada rejects Martin St. Louis (who really did deserve to be on the team) and Vincent Lecavalier (who really didn't) will soon be water not only under the bridge, but also off a duck's back and downstream to the waters of Lethe. Yzerman isn't there for them; he's there to properly cultivate the likes of Steven Stamkos and Victor Hedman, and to develop a new Tampa Bay Lightning around them.
So where does this leave your Thrashers?
With Rick Dudley, Don Waddell (he is still around, lest we forget), and the Atlanta Spirit LLC (who will NOT, it turns out, be joined by Hollywood investors of any sort). Dubious caretakers all.
But your Chronicle realizes that it's useless and boring to worry about the Thrashers while there's still exciting Stanley Cup hockey to be seen and those long-awaited Daria DVDs to be watched. Like for serious.