Category Archives: Sidney Crosby

Random n’at

1. Today I spent the morning at the Mario Lemieux Foundation helping prepare for Make Room for Kids install day at the cancer unit at Children’s Hospital which will take place this Thursday. I can’t wait to share with you everything we’re gifting those kids with thanks to you and the generous folks at the local Microsoft office.

2. An exclusive look at Hines Ward’s Atlanta mansion thanks to Bob Pompeani.


And I thought we were excessive for having three in ours. My God, I would be a terrible rich person.

Also, I can’t watch a Bob Pompeani video without immediately wanting to go watch him tear up a dance floor like nobody was watching.

3. Paul Van Osdol reports on the texting while driving ban and demonstrates how you too can fool the police.

“Instead of texting up here, people are texting down here” might be my favorite news reporter quote of the week.

4. Someone stole a rather large statue of Paul Bunyan … or a statue of an angry pilgrim who wishes to kill you good:

(Tribune Democrat)

They oughta sell that thing to the Scarehouse. They love evil dead-eyed shit like that.

5. And yet another hockey professional calls Sidney Crosby a diving whiner.

“It was whining,” Fraser said.  “Mike Richards was yelling at him at that instant, he said something to the effect of ‘it looks like a yard sale out here.’ He had gloves thrown all over the place, he was grabbing his face, taking dives. and then he would complain to the referee that he was fouled. I like tough hockey. It’s a man’s game. And I do provide for player safety. Once that line is crossed, I like to see guys respond when the bell rings. There were times when he was looking and going down easy. Which was designed to embarrass the referee and fool him into calling penalties. That wasn’t going to happen with me.”

Let’s call the wahmbulance for all these whiners whining about Sid’s “whining.”

6.  How slow of a news day does it have to be for KDKA to air a report that firemen in Westmoreland County saved some koi?

7. The second round of Burghy wedding pictures is up over at Pittsburgh Magazine, this one featuring Primanti’s, Kennywood, the incline and more!

Who knew you could rent an incline?!  I might rent one next week for the most intense ten minute rave ever.  $340 cover charge.

8. As you recall violent rhino sex is a real thing that resulted in the two rhinos at the zoo charging at each other and trying to do bodily harm to one another while attempting to procreate, which seems completely counterproductive, but to each his or her own violent copulation methods.

When Azizi met Jomo, the two locked horns.

The Pittsburgh Zoo & PPG Aquarium’s two black rhinos chased, roared, snorted and charged each other as part of the animals’ rowdy mating ritual that began in late 2009.

“It definitely wasn’t love at first sight,” said Barbara Baker, president and CEO of the Highland Park zoo. “Rhino breeding is anything but romantic … They had an intense courtship that was quite aggressive.”

As a result, the pair’s first baby is expected in September, after a roughly 15-month gestation period. It would be the first rhino calf delivered at the zoo in 47 years.

You also recall that violent rhino sex is one of our blog fake band names. Here is their first album:

Songs on the CD include “Hateful Horn,” “Angry Orgy,” and “My Gestation Period is HOW FREAKING LONG?!”

That last one is a power ballad.

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America! Yeah!

I’m a patriotic girl. “The Star Spangled Banner” makes me tear up and “God Bless America” makes me blubber like a toddler whose ice cream fell off the cone.

I’m not saying I like to ride a lawnmower while shooting my rifle in the air or anything, I’m just saying I love America and I love the men and women who fight for America.

After my recent post showing the patch of the 171st ARW Steel City Airmen for the 2011 Wings Over Pittsburgh show, I received an email from reader Amy who wrote:

My dad is retired from the 171st Air Refueling Wing, you’ve probably driven past it a million times on the way to the airport.  They’re an in air refueling wing, which if you think about it is pretty amazing – they’re flying in the air, and still manage to lower the fuel boom to connect with a second plane, mid-air, to refuel mid flight.  I’m lucky if I don’t spill the gas on my car when I’m at Get Go. (Here are some photos of that happening in flight).

Anyhow, everyone out at the 171st are proud Pittsburgers.  I’ve had the luxury to spend a lot of time with those folks, and they’re all awesome.  You might like to see how their pride in Pittsburgh is shown through their patches and the nose art on the planes.

She shared these photos with me and you just have to see them, you guys.

First, the refueling taking place in air.

Other tanker refueling the A-10

I’m always astounded that anyone ever even thought to attempt such a thing. Way back when, had I been in a room when a military planner said, “How’s about we just find a way to fill ’em up while they’re flying 500 miles an hour?” I’d have stood up and slammed my hands on the table and shouted, “WITCHCRAFT!”

That’s just my standard answer to things I don’t understand.

In the cockpit. You can see their badass patches here:


Even their headphones sport their Pittsburgh pride:

Boom operator



On the nose art on the plane on the left, it looks like it’s got the Steelers and the Penguins on there, so I assume the lower one is the Buccos of Suckitude:


Other Pittsburgh-flavored nose art as found on the 171st ARW website:

Kennywood themed!





Steelers themed!

Okay. I lied. I want to ride my dad’s lawnmower and shoot his BB gun into the air while waving a Terrible Towel and screaming, “USA! USA! USA!”

And my parents’ elderly neighbors will look out their windows and be all, “Crap. I think Sarah Palin moved in next door.”

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Everyone hates the Penguins

Let’s recap the Penguins hate that has been unleashed in just one short week, shall we?

  • First we had the Flyers coach Peter Laviolette losing his shit during a game and then calling Dan Bylsma “gutless.”
  • Then Flyers assistant coach Craig Berube called Sid and Geno “the two dirtiest players on their hockey team.”
  • NBC hockey commentator Mike Milbury went on Philly radio and ripped on the Pens, calling our captain a goody-two-shoes punk, which, OXYMORON, and our coach a girl.
  • Then late last week, Rangers coach John Tortorella flipped out, referring to the Pens as “one of the most arrogant organizations in the league.”  He also said of Crosby and Geno, “They whine about this stuff all the time, and look what happens. They’ll whine about something else over there, won’t they, starting with their two (expletive) stars.”


Also awesome? That the Pens aren’t taking the bait:

I vaguely have an idea of what he said,” Crosby said Friday, referring specifically to Tortorella’s comments. “I’m sure he’ll apologize today about it and everything will be forgotten.”

This is all very good news. So much hate being spewed at our team from so many different places means we’re getting under their skin at exactly the time we need to become the maddening itch they can’t scratch.

In all of these hilarious spats, it seems only the Penguins are holding to one very important truth:

Goals speak louder than words.

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The hockey shit hit the hockey fan.

Do you guys ever wonder how much hate we would have for Sidney Crosby if he played for any other team in the NHL? I wonder that sometimes. I can’t fathom not loving him, so it’s hard for me to imagine hating him. But do you think we would be Sid-haters like everyone else if he wore, say, a Red Wings sweater?

Or would we grudgingly respect him?

If Mike Milbury, NBC’s hockey analyst, is any indicator, we would hate Sidney Crosby with scorching, burning hellfire. So much hellfire that we would risk our jobs just to get the chance to vent our spleens (no clue what that means) to say that which has been burning our brains and our tongues for so long, begging to be let out.

We would go on the air in Philadelphia and we would say atrocious things like this:

“Little goody two shoes (Crosby) goes into the corner and gives a shot to Schenn. Schenn was late to the party, he should have turned around and drilled him right away, but I guess better late than never. So you know, Crosby gets cross-checked, big whoop. He said after he came back from his 35th concussion, ‘I’m not going to do this anymore, I’m not going to get into this scrums, I’m going to stay away from that stuff.’ He couldn’t help himself because there’s a little punk in Crosby. He’s not the perfect gentleman. He’s not the sweet kid you see in interviews with his hat pulled down over his eyes.”

Question? Does anyone have anything bad to say about Sid OFF of the ice? Because all indications are that he IS a perfect gentleman and IS the sweet kid with his hat pulled down over his eyes. It seems to me that Mike Milbury is having trouble separating Sid the hockey player from Sid the human being.

I used to have that problem with Marian Hossa and then I tore his voodoo doll asunder at the crotch and everything was right in the world again.

So Milbury hates Sid. Fine. We Pens fans eat up that hate. We have it for lunch and dinner and twice for breakfast the next morning. Sid sucks. Sure. Whatever. Enjoy your hate like I enjoy my hate for the Flyers. Chew it good so it doesn’t choke you.

But there’s this:

I say screw him, hit him.

Oh boy. Now he have an NHL analyst going on the radio, making light of career-threatening concussions, and encouraging hits on a post-concussion recuperating player.

That’s putting the ass in classy. Can you imagine Cris Collinsworth doing an interview and being so stupid as to just lay into Ben or Troysus like that? Calling them punks and goody-two-shoes and encouraging other players to hit them hard upon their returns from concussions? I don’t like Cris Collinsworth, but I will admit that the man is not THAT stupid.

And don’t even get me started on Milbury’s ridiculous sexist caveman call for Bylsma to “take his skirt off” and get up and fight Laviolette. The reason Bylsma didn’t fight with his fists is because he’s an adult and he knows better, and the reason he didn’t take his skirt off is because … YOUR MOM, MIKE.

I don’t know. I couldn’t think of a snappy comeback, and YOUR MOM always works. Try it sometime.

“You’re ugly.”



Milbury has since issued an apology, which, fine. You’re sorry you were so stupid as to say the things you did, but let’s not kid ourselves that you don’t really feel all of those things you said because you can’t put the Nutella back in the jar after you’ve hoovered the whole thing. And here’s another problem … you’re supposed to be an impartial hockey analyst. How the hell are you ever going to be able to work another Penguins game without every single thing you say being turned this way and that way, examined closely to see if there’s a bias lurking behind the words? You’ve already showed us your cards, Mike, and you’ve got a four-of-a-kind of bias.

Which again, it’s fine. I think the Pens fans get used to the subtle and not-so-subtle bias by some analysts, but this is the first time one has gone on the radio for such a blatant airing of grievances.

Sid’s agent is calling for Milbury’s firing or suspension, but I don’t know that Milbury needs to be fired. They’re just words, albeit spoken from someone who should have known better than to let them ever hit the airwaves. I think the best revenge will not be him losing his job, but the Penguins going deep into the playoffs and maybe hoisting the Cup on the shoulders of Sidney, Geno, and Fleury.

Barring that sweet revenge, there’s always this …


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Random n’at

1. Yesterday I got my first real new hearing aids in more years than I care to admit. So long, in fact, that they don’t even make hearing aids like I used to wear anymore.

I’m now sporting top-of-the-line digital hearing aids and let me tell you, I’d like all the things to shut up.

I need to get used to hearing the beeps when my car starts, the fan inside my computer, the neighbor’s barking dog that is INSIDE HIS HOUSE, random bumps in the night, the sounds of Mario Kart coming from my son’s DSi, the sound my thighs make when my jean legs rub together, the hum of the fridge, THE WIND.

Whew. How do you live with all that NOISE, humans?!

That said, I am loving actually feeling like I can take part in a conversation again. I’m a new woman with Bluetooth hearing-aids and that means if you call my cell phone, it will sound like you’re standing in my head talking to me.

I love technology.

I hate the sound my dog’s nose makes.

2. Not that I spend a lot of time thinking about what I’d do if someone tried to smother me with a pillow, but every time I DO think about it, this is EXACTLY WHAT I SAY I WILL DO.

Get out of my brain, Internet.

3. Sorry to be so BASEBALL right now, especially in light of the amazing run the Pens are having, but I just want to say that I love Clint Hurdle and I love Jim Leyland, who you can still see hanging around PNC Park on occasion:

Before accepting the Pirates’ managing offer two Novembers ago, Clint Hurdle called Jim Leyland. He sought some advice, and the old skipper came back with one slice above all.

“You need to think about living there,” Leyland told Hurdle.

Pittsburgh, Leyland meant.

“Already have,” Hurdle remembered replying. “Jim, one of my leadership bullets is that I’m going to live where I’m going to lead. I want the people to know this isn’t just a summer gig for me. I’m going to get involved in the community.”

Even he couldn’t have imagined how involved.

Forget the certificate that shows Hurdle being born in Big Rapids, Mich. This man has become pure Pittsburgh, as much as Bill Cowher, the cheese lady at Penn Mac or the Ice Ball Man.

Oh, and Leyland, too.

Leyland was born in Perrysburg, Ohio, but you’ll never find anyone more Pittsburgh than the straight-shooting, chain-smoking, heart-on-his-sleeve manager of the Detroit Tigers. He still lives in Mt. Lebanon.

But my question is this. ICE BALL MAN?!


And this:

“Be a part of Pittsburgh,” he said. “Every one of them, to a man, told me that. Just like Leyland. And I’m happy to tell you they were right.”


4. Oh my God. Saddest thing ever:

WORTH TOWNSHIP, Pa. — A 58-year-old man died Thursday after trying to remove life support equipment needed by his stepson’s 18-month-old son from a fire that has since been ruled arson, police said.

No words.

5. Sid is back, as is Sexhair, and I gotta tell you, we had a party. A literal party at my sister Pens Fan’s house like it was Super Bowl Sunday and the Steelers were playing. A smorgasbord of foodstuffs, wine, and fun. And I spent the whole game, right up until the last second ticked away, absolutely terrified for Sid and his battered brain.

That feeling will go away soon, right?

P.S. Pissed-off Rangers fans may be my favorite fans ever. I saw a few New Yorkers on the precipice of catastrophic heart events last night.

6. The Mario Lemieux Foundation tells me that games donated via the Amazon Wish List are starting to arrive in their offices and that my readers are “awesome.” True story.

They sent me a picture!

I also wanted to let you know that if you have XBOX 360 games that you no longer play, that are in good condition, and that are rated E or E10+ or C, you can donate those to the Lemieux Foundation too! Just send them to the attention of Nancy Angus, 816 Fifth Avenue, Pittsburgh, PA 15219 and we’ll take care of getting them delivered!

Also, be sure to check the Wish List if you haven’t yet donated to the effort and want to be a part of something special!

7. The Pittsburgh Home and Garden Show is planning to enforce exclusivity rules for 2013, meaning their exhibitors have to agree not to sell at any other event anywhere for the whole year.  I imagine this is going to go down as smoothly as a caterpillar trying to swallow a keyboard.

Good luck with that!

8. Pittsburgh Dad — The Parking Chair episode!

YouTube Preview Image

Also, I have in my possession a wedding photo submission that includes parking chairs. Can’t wait for the next post in that series.

If you have wedding pictures showing how you incorporated your Burgh love into the ceremony or reception, send ’em my way! virginia [at]!

9. I’m off to investigate a new mysterious noise I’m hearing now with these powerful bionic hearing aids. If it’s a centipede burping, I quit.

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