Draft Weekend Wrapup

Wow. Fantastic time this Friday; everyone @ TJ's did a stellar job pulling this off. A timeline of events for the Outsider:

- Graciously welcomed by Bill Tiller.
- Sat down at a table with Tim & Tom, later learned of a "Six Degrees"-type connection involving a former bandmate, Ole Miss, and geese. Random.
- Saw Grumpy Brian Burke on big screen. Laughed.
- Watched Waddell take podium, reference draft party that wasn't us, and pick Evander Kane. Cheered.
- Rob (the Wings fan) showed up.
- Met up with the Chronicle staff. Long lost family reunion ensued.
- Watched as reports of huge robbery came across the wire. Hope Mrs. Sasquatch likes Philly.
- Saw Grumpy Brian Burke. Laughed again.
- Rob (the Wings fan) won tickets to a future Thrashers game. Protested loudly to no avail. Made my own Grumpy Brian Burke face until Rob said "What? You'll probably be going with me."
- Ate, drank, made merry.
- Ran in fear as politics surfaced.
- Met Dan Bouchard & grandson. Wonderful human being.
- Bid my fairwells, and returned to Outsider Farms to retire for the night.


A wonderful evening. I'm behind the curve on the picks' stats and what have you; may I recommend the ever-vigilant the Falconer for your further reading? Oh yea, seems Marian Hossa's rights may be dealt sometime soon. What? No reason, just sayin.

Weekend Update

Before things get too nutty on a Friday afternoon in Atlanta, and you have to make a hasty decision as to where you should spend your oh-so-precious Friday evening, may I recommend TJ's in Alpharetta? There will be a room full of hockey-mad Georgia residents, one dollar drafts, and some sort of viewing device with which we will monitor the actions of our beloved Atlanta Thrashers Hockey Club and possibly find out if our new associate GM will be heretofore referred to as Studley or just #(%*&^#*@)!!!!!! (i.e. more of the same)

Slated to appear:
- blueland outsider
- The Blueland Chronicle Staff (possibly minus an anthropomorphic rodent correspondent)
- Rawhide of the AJC

There will be food, fun, prizes, gratuitous references to mid-90's popular culture, and maybe I'll break out a Springsteen face or two. Who knows.

But I know who WON'T be there; and not because he doesn't like us, or he thinks any of us smell funny (I hope), but because he's the Thrashoblogosphere's Official Representative at the NHL Draft: the Falconer from Birdwatchers Anonymous. Whatever your plans, make sure to check in with him. He's s-m-r-t about this whole pucky-shoot business.