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Sorry about being so late with this, but in order:
- Got home from the game Thursday night and went straight to bed.
- Woke up Friday morning to, as all my fellow San Francisco Bay area residents noted, one mean storm.
- Finally got to work slightly the soggier for wear and remembered today was the day my department was moving. And had to do it all ourselves. So, box up a few knick-knacks and family pictures, no big, right? Try disassembling desks to extract the file cabinets underneath time. Cheap desks and file cabinets. As you know if you’ve been in the neighborhood, the cheaper something is assembled the more likely it is to be near impossible to unassemble without inflicting a certain amount of damage on all parties concerned. Including the one doing the unassembly. At least the entire desk top missed me by a clean three millimeters when it collapsed without warning. Oh what fun. My back is yelling at me even as we speak.
- Finished the aforementioned adventure in office demolition, finally sat down five and a half hours after arriving at the office, sat down at my new desk, and quickly discovered: a) everyone and their grandmother had left me an e-mail about assorted agenda items requiring creation and implementation right now, and b) my new location in the center of most everything reminded the vast majority of my fellow cast members how before I was in an area requiring a bit of work to reach (long story not worth telling) I was the company’s unofficial camp counselor. By the end of the day I was ready to call Lucy Van Pelt and ask if I could borrow his psychiatric help sign so I could at least earn five cents per session. Neither of these left a whole lot of time available for blogging, alas.
- Fought the elements coming home, got home, decided to rest my aging bones with a brief nap… seven hours later, woke up so I could go to bed. Which I did for another nine hours.
Okay, enough whining. Back to the last game.
The two things that most stuck out were how much better the Sharks played than has been their norm at home. There were lengthy stretches where they absolutely out-played the Flames. That said, between the multitude of missed opportunities where someone being but a couple of feet or even inches closer to the puck Miikka Kiprusoff was constantly leaving in front of a tantalizingly open net via juicy rebounds would have resulted in a barrage of goals, plus how making any kind of mistake or less than complete play against Calgary when they have Jarome Iginla on the ice is far more often than not unfortunate in the extreme… well, it simply wasn’t enough to win. Better, yes. But not enough. Ah well.
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