K and I went with some friends to an Atlanta Thrashers game last night. This is my third Thrashers game in two seasons, and I've yet to see the Thrashers lose in person. This wouldn't be such a shocking statistic except that the Thrashers have had losing records in both of those seasons. Last year was a disaster and this year is just another tepid losing season for a franchise with a (short) history of losing seasons. I do have a lot of hope for this team in the future, though. The Thrashers have put in a few killer comebacks this season and they seem to play better in the third period than any other. I like the new coach and he's supposedly bringing a new style of play to the team, so I'm willing to sit through a season with too many losses if it means another trip to the playoffs in the future.
But, the real thing here is that apparently I'm a good luck charm for the Thrashers. If they really want a shot at the Stanley Cup, they desperately need to give me season tickets for the next season. All the pieces for a championship team are there. The only thing missing is me, sitting next to the glass. If you work in the Thrashers' front office and want to contact me to help out the team next season, leave a comment here and I'll be happy to get back to you to talk terms.
I'd also like to publicly thank frequent commenter Julie for organizing the outing. She and her hubby (or at least her hubby) are big Thrashers fans and they got together a bunch of their friends for a big group ticket purchase. To my surprise, Courtney and Mickey were already at Julie's house when we showed up to carpool to Philips Arena. They had responded to the Evite with a great big no, so I hadn't been expecting them. I think Mickey enjoyed the game (although he didn't match my jackassery in the stands) and I don't think he'll be able to make cracks about hockey every time I make a post about the Thrashers from now on. The two picked a great game for their first, though. That third period comeback was one of the more exciting that I've ever seen.
Mickey and Courtney's presence also was important for what happened after the game. I finally got to see an example of the fabled sport of tabling. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, basically Mickey can climb tables. Here are photos from Julie's camera that proves this:
I cropped Julie out of this photo in case she's not keen on having her picture on these here interwebs, but this is Mickey in transition from top to bottom.
And here he is coming back up from underneath the table. I didn't bother trying. I have noodle arms that contrast my athletic legs and I weigh almost 250 lbs. I don't know if the table would handle my weight well. I also don't my head would either when I fell on it.
We also played the full band version of Guitar Hero on a giant HD TV. To sum up my contribution: I rock the base and do pretty well on vocals, but I SUCK on the drums. Really fun party game though.
And I also think that Mickey at one point during the night may have been implying that he's rather hirsute between the navel and the knee. When I made a crack about him having rather feminine features after it turned out that he had smaller hands than my wife, he made a wide circling gesture over that area and said "Except here. That's all that matters." Either that or he's claiming to have a penis that covers most of the acreage indicated. I really doubt that. He's quite the prime example of manhood, but that's just excessive. Besides, he wouldn't be able to wear pants if his dangly bits were that big and he tends to wear pants. There aren't even any strange lumps.