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The /r/hockey Trade Deadline Game - Day 2 Thread
NOTE: This is FAKE HOCKEY. To talk about actual hockey, go to the latest Daily Discussion thread Trade Deadline Tonight will continue TONIGHT! The /hockey Trade Deadline Game is back for day 2! Starting today at 8:00 AM MT trading is officially open again. Trading will run until Thursday, January 30th at 6:00 PM MT. You are not late! You can still sign up at http://www.tdgdb.com When you are traded, change your flair on hockey-related subreddits and spend the week from January 31st through February 7th cheering for your new team. Here are this year's reporters, the people who will make things up break news of trade negotiations:
Amendment 68 and the ads on Pandora...anyone actually know anything about the facts associated with 68?
I'm assuming I'm not the only Pandora user who gets hit w/ these ads. I haven't done much research into the actual facts associated w/ this Amendment, but my gut feeling is to vote for it based on the scare tactics being used by the Vote No peeps. Seriously, the ad is just ominous music synced w/ a voice over and really provides no information except that the Durango Herald thinks its a bad idea. I like Durango and have nothing against the Herald, but really? This is the highest profile source of support against they have? But it's really the freakin' music that makes me think there isn't much in support against this, aside from the interests that paid for the ad. Trying to get an emotional response instead of presenting information instantly makes me distrust the ad. The little research I did indicates that the group paying for it is comprised of Casinos. Now, if they are threatened w/ a loss of business and revenue due to a more accessible casino and this money would be leaving the state instead of benefiting it I would see the Vote No argument in another light...but why not actually play that angle? Meh...I kinda just wanted to vent because those commercials are annoying me. But I am curious as to if anyone has any actual knowledge on this issue.
Most memorable hockey memorabilia? How did you come across it? -Off topic from HUT-
Title is a little confusing. But really. Have any of you ever come across nhl players? Meet any? Special Charity dinners with teams? I'm curious to hear if anyone's done anything cool like that. Most prized hockey possession would be a cool topic too. When I was younger my mother won a 2nd place prize at a casino in Detroit. We didn't know what it was for months. First place was a ( 2005 gt500 mustang ) we assumed 2nd place was probably going to be at least something nice. She was antsy but I was young. 13-14 at the time an didn't think anything of it. Eventually we got the call. Full access Red wings game and extras. EXTRAS!? we had no idea. But we went. We had a suite in Joe Louis to watch the red wings play the Blackhawks. ( I believe we won, but idr. ) when the game was close to being over we were informed of the " extras " this entitled. I still believe my mom knew about it but I was in the dark. Well the extras was a FUCKIN TRIP TO CHICAGO. What's so great about that? Oh well you know. I was on the private jet for Detroit sports. I sat next to Osgood an Larry Murphy. I was in heaven. Got to fly to Chicago with the team. Stay at the hotel they stayed at. Next morning we got full access with DRW media pass and I got shown around the Chicago arena. Stand on center ice. The seats were right behind the wings bench. Later we met back at the airport for the flight home. We had deep dish pizza and I have a Red wings book signed by everyone. Chelios, Osgood, Lidstrom, Babcock, holmstrom, zetterberg, Stevie Y, datsyuk. The whole bunch in 2005. I got my jersey signed by Lidstrom himself. Looking back on it now. It's what really made me love hockey. They were all so nice and kind. Talking to me like I was part of the team. To this day I have the jersey framed and the book all protected. Tl;dr. Won a trip and met the wings and now have 2 of my most prized possessions from my favorite team. Do you have any stories?
Recently discovered I've missed out on so many great movies in my life.
And when I realized this...I decided I owed it to myself to start knocking these great ones off of a list. But first, I needed to create a list. So I researched movie sites, all time lists, and common recommendations from friends. I have already knocked a few movies off this list in the last 2 weeks such as: Spotlight Braveheart The Usual Suspects No Country For Old Men Blow Memento I loved every single one of them. I posted about this on my Facebook and now all of my friends are excited for me to witness these movies and every time I post about a new one I see, I get a lot of feedback. Anyways, I figured this was an excellent place to come share this, and maybe get some feedback. I have seen a lot of movies, just not a lot of the great movies, if that makes sense. I spent a lot of time on this list so if there's an obvious one like Forrest Gump not on here, I've seen it. The List: 1408 (500) Days of Summer 12 Angry Men 12 Years a Slave 127 Hours 21 Grams 3:10 to Yuma 50/50 A Clockwork Orange A History of Violence A Separation A Time to Kill Alien American Beauty American Gangster American Psycho American Sniper Apocalypse Now Babel Beasts of No Nation Before Midnight Being John Malkovich Bicycle Thief Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) Black Mass Black Swan Blackhawk Down Blazing Saddles - Blow Blue Valentine Body Of Lies Boyhood - Braveheart Brians Song Broken City Cape Fear Casino Changeling Chasing Amy Chicago Children of Men Chinatown City of God Cloverfield Collateral Cool Hand Luke Courage Under Fire Crash Crazy, Stupid, Love. Crimson Tide Cypher Dances with Wolves Dead Poets Society Deadpool Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father Deliverance Deuces Wild District 9 Dog Day Afternoon Dogma Drive Empire Equilibrium Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Ex Machina Eye in the Sky Fargo Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas Fight Club Flight Foxcatcher Free State of Jones Fury Gangs of New York Gattaca Get Out Ghostbusters Gladiator Gone Baby Gone Gone Girl Good Morning, Vietnam Gravity Groundhog Day Hacksaw Ridge Hamburger Hill Harlem Nights Heat Heist Hell or High Water Hunger Idiocricy In Bruges Indiana Jones Series Inside Man Interstellar Into the Wild J. Edgar Jaws John Wick 1 & 2 Kiss Kiss Bang Bang L.A. Confidential La La Land Last of the Mohicans Lawrence of Arabia Léon: The Professional Life Is Beautiful Lincoln Logan Lone Survivor Lord of War Lost Highway Lost in Translation Machine Gun Preacher Mad Max: Fury Road Magnolia Malcolm X Man on Fire Mean Creek - Memento Mommy Moneyball Moon Moonlight Mr. Nobody Mulholland Dr. Mystic River New Jack City Night of the Living Dead Nocturnal Animals - No Country for Old Men Oldboy Once One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Out of Time Paid in Full Pan's Labyrinth Patton Philadelphia Pirates of the Caribbean Series Place Beyond The Pines Platoon Predator Primal Fear Public Enemies Rain Man Requiem for a Dream Rescue Dawn Revolutionary Road Road To Perdition Rocket Man Room Running Scared Safe House Scenic Route Shame Short Term 12 Shottas Sicario Silver Linings Playbook Sing Street Singles Slap Shot Snowpiercer Southpaw Spaceballs - Spotlight Star Wars Suicide Kings Sunshine Swiss Army Man The Accountant The Admiral The Artist The Aviator The Big Lebowski The Bone Collector The Bourne Series The Butler The Color Purple The Deer Hunter The Departed The Descendants The Descent The Equalizer The Fighter The Godfather series. The Grand Budapest Hotel The Great Debaters The Help The Hurt Locker The Hustler The Illusionist The Intouchables The King's Speech The Lives of Others The Lord of the Rings Series The Lovely Bones The Machinist The Magnificent Seven The Orphanage The Others The Patriot The Pelican Brief The Pianist The Preacher’s Wife The Prestige The Revenant The Score The Secret in Their Eyes The Shining The Siege The Spectacular Now The Theory of Everything The Town The Untouchables - The Usual Suspects The Vanishing The Wolf of Wall Street There Will Be Blood Thin Red Line Trouble With the Curve Troy True Grit Twelve Monkeys Warrior Whiplash Zero Dark Thirty Zombieland
Since it was first commissioned in 1892, the Stanley Cup has taken on its own mythology. It's been to three continents. It's been beaten, dinged, kicked, thrown and abandoned. It's been used as a baptismal font, ashtray, doggy dish,an on-stage prop for strippers, a bubble gum bowl, and – of course – a drinkingvessel. It's been left on street corners, left behind on frozen rivers, slept with, pried open by curious players, and found at the bottom of swimming pools. There are many odd tales to tell about the most recognizable trophy in North American sports, but there's a really weird one I'd like to share with you today. March 31, 1962 – dateline, Chicago. The Montreal Canadiens and the hometown Black Hawks (with a space) are deep into their semifinal playoff series. The Habs, at this point, are nothing short of a dynasty, winning four straight Cups from 1956 to 1960. The Black Hawks broke that streak the year before, eliminating the Habs on their way to their first Cup since 1938. The Habs and their fans wanted revenge. The Habs took the first two games of the series before heading south for games three and four. In those days, teams took trains from game to game and included a large entourage with the team on board. Coaches, beat writers, healthy scratches, and even a few lucky fans got to travel with the players. One of the fellows on the Montreal train was a twenty-something super fan named Ken Kilander. Born and raised in Montreal, Kilander was a hockey player himself, but a lousy one. His boyhood dream of making the Habs dashed, he made a living as a pianist. He travelled with the team on road trips frequently, hustling money for transportation and hotel rooms by playing the piano near the team's hotel. More often than not, Kilander would be wearing his cherished team jacket – word said he was given it by one of the team's players. Kilander became loosely known to the players but was mostly known to the team's beat writers. They'd often socialize with Kilander on the train or after a few wobbly pops in a hotel lounge. On March 31, the night before game three was scheduled, the group gathered in the bar of the team's hotel, the LaSalle, about a mile away from the raucous confines of Chicago Stadium. Kilander overheard one of the loose-lipped scribes saying that league officials had arranged for the Stanley Cup to be publicly displayed in the Stadium's lobby. The drinks continued to flow until Kilander piped up. His exact words were lost to history and drowned out by whiskey years ago, but he said something like this: “What would you all do if I found a way to get the Cup to the boys?” The writers raised an eyebrow. After a one-beat pause, some laughed. One reporter, knowing the game would be played on April Fools' Day, said if Kilander could find a way to get the Cup to the hotel, he'd take a photo and send it back to his paper for publication. Another reporter egged him on. Others said it would cause huge trouble, but it'd still be a good laugh. Apparently, one of them made Kilander a bet, that the pianist would earn $400 if he got the Cup to the hotel. Don't make bets when you're drinking, people. Things get weird when you do. Things would get weirder the next day. Game three started the next night just as many others had at the Stadium. Kilander made his way through the turnstiles and, to his amazement, saw that one of the writers was right. Sitting in a glass display case in the lobby, on a small wooden stand, was the Stanley Cup. Kilander pondered it for a short while before heading to his seat. For a hardcore Habs fan, game three wasn't a good night. Two quick goals made it 2-0 Chicago before the first period ended. By the time forty minutes had been played, it was 3-0 Black Hawks.. Distraught, Kilander left his seat and wandered down to the arena lobby. “My Habs were getting clobbered,” he said later. “I couldn't take any more of that.” He walked through the now-empty lobby and saw the Cup, still standing on its wooden plinth near the rink's exit onto Madison Street. A small padlock held the case closed. Kilander remembered the drunken wager the writer offered him the night before. He knew what he had to do. It's not really known how he did it – either he smashed the display case, picked or forced the lock open, or just so happened to find the lock already undone. The method isn't all that relevant – the end result certainly is. Kilander wound up with the case open and the Stanley Cup right in front of him. No sirens or alarms went off. No security saw him. It was just the fan and the holy grail. “I couldn't resist reaching in and taking the Cup in my arms. The Hawks were about to win, and who knew when I'd ever see it again,” he'd say years later. Kilander held the Cup, then grabbed it fully, took it out of the display case, and beat feet out of there. If the Habs couldn't bring home the Cup, he'd damn well do it for them. He made a quick dash for the exit, first trying to cover the Cup with his prized jacket. Realizing the Cup was too big to hide, he hoped he could sneak out the side exit and get onto the street, where it would be a fairly short walk to the team's hotel. Kilander was steps away from the exit when he heard a voice behind him. “Hey,” it said. Sounded like some kid. Kilander turned his head back. It was a kid – a sixteen-year-old arena usher named Roy Perrell. Perrell had noticed the guy with the Habs jacket walking sneakily out of the building with hockey's most prized trophy and, shockingly enough, thought he probably shouldn't be doing that. Perrell approached Kilander and asked him again, “What are you doing?” Kilander thought of a quick reply; “I'm taking the Cup back to Montreal – where it belongs.” Impressed with his quick line, Kilander kept walking. He only got a few more steps in before hearing another voice – this one, deeper than the last. Chicago police sergeant Jerry Cortapessi was on the scene. Cortapessi asked the same question Perrell asked Kilander. He got the same response. It went over about as well as you'd expect – dead, hostile silence. Kilander thought his goose was cooked but then remembered the bet - $450 if he could get the Cup to the hotel. Kilander mentioned the bet to the two and offered them both a substantial cut if they let him walk. Cortapessi wasn't impressed. “Only if you're Rocket Richard and I'm the Tooth Fairy,” he reportedly said before grabbing the Cup from Kilander and handcuffing him. So much for the hotel – Kilander would be sleeping in the hoosegow instead. The next day, Kilander was taken to Chicago municipal court, still wearing his jacket. The Black Hawks, realizing this was all an ill-conceived joke – or maybe still satisfied after beating the Habs 4-0 - didn't press charges against Kilander. Kilander told the judge he wasn't actually going to bring the Cup back to Canada, just to the hotel instead. The plan afterwards – what would he do with the Cup, if he'd return it, etc. - was kind of hazy after that. He told the judge about the bet and that he offered the two arresting parties, Perrel and Cortapessi, a cut of his earnings if they let him walk. That smells an awful lot like bribery, but the judge said the situation differently. Kilander was given a charge of disorderly conduct and was ordered to pay a $10 fine and court costs. Just to cover his bases, the judge also told Kilander he had to promise he would never try to steal the Stanley Cup again. “I cross my heart and hope to die, I'll never do it again!” he said. "He said to me, "You can go back to the Stadium tomorrow night and cheer all you want for your Canadiens, but the Cup stays here unless the Black Hawks lose, which I doubt very much they will," said Kilander years later. Kilander did at least succeed in one way – the papers back home ate his story up. His attempted theft made the sports pages in every paper across North America. Habs coach Toe Blake weighed in, saying, “We want the Cup, sure! But we want to win it, not steal it.” After game four, another Habs loss, Chicago police suggested firmly that Kilander catch the next train home. He did. The Habs would lose that series in six games, blowing their shot and an almost-unprecedented dynasty. The Hawks didn't fare much better, losing to Toronto to create that ever-rarest of hockey flukes – a Cup for the Maple Leafs. Kilander kept following the Habs for years after the attempted heist. He moved to Atlantic City for a while and tinkled the ivories in the city's casino haunts, later becoming – ironically enough – a security officer on the city's Boardwalk. He still found ways to make it to as many Habs games as he could. Kilander was banned from seeing Rangers games in Madison Square Garden after the incident – even though the hapless Rangers had no reason to ever worry about the Cup ever being in their home rink. Nonetheless, Kilander met with Ranger GM Muzz Patrick to try and clear his name. Patrick himself had a weird history with the Cup. When his father Lester had the Cup in his possession in the 1920's, Muzz and his brother both scratched their names into it with bent nails. Later, when he won it with the Rangers in 1940, Muzz and his teammates reportedly peed directly into the trophy's bowl, in what can only be described as the weirdest office team-building exercise in history. Nobody really knows what happened in the conversation between the two, but between sharing stories of hockey games past and a short performance on piano by Kilander, Patrick relented and allowed him back in. The Kilander fiasco had one long-lasting effect on the Stanley Cup. Ever since Kilander broke into the case, the Cup has been guarded like royalty, with security and police around it at almost all times and a pair of stewards always close at hand. Part of the reason they're there is to keep the trophy looking good and shiny, to ensure the person holding it doesn't end up hoisting a rusty, bent bucket. I think we can tell what another reason is – to keep the craziest fans around, the Ken Kilanders of the world, from trying to steal it.
If you want to read more about the weird, forgotten or amazing bits of hockey history, visit our subreddit at /wayback_wednesday. You'll find dozens of articles just like this one. We'll be back soon with another article. If you have any ideas or information for later Wayback Wednesday posts, please don't hesitate to message me or comment below. I'm never too busy to answer questions about these.
I don't know where to turn anymore. I'm scared. I can barely settle my mind to write anything. God. Am I going CRAZY? Are any of the stories on here REAL? Is there someone who can HELP me? I can't find any information about anything like this on any of the paranormal sites out there. I got so fucking desperate I went to the church, for Christ's sake! Okay. Here it is. I've been living in Clifton, Colorado for about three months now...my uncle Ross just died, and I got grandpa's house that grandpa had given to dad and that my dad had given to Ross in his will. Does that make sense? I got grandpa's house from Ross. Dad had made him promise. Jesus Christ. I don't think I've done anything to DERSERVE what's happening to me! I was a simple person before all this. I'M JUST A SIMPLE GUY! Before I moved out here I had a shitty apartment in Fort Collins. I had just failed out of CSU for the second time when I got the call from Dad's old lawyer that uncle Ross died of a stroke out on grandpa's front porch. Jake, my older brother, wanted nothing to do with this place, or with Ross, or with anybody on Dad's side of the family for that matter, so Vedapo and I took care of all the paperwork ourselves. Ross never had kids. I got everything after the attorney fees and funeral costs. Pretty lucky, right? One hundred and ninety three thousand dollars... I felt lucky. But about three weeks or so after I first got here, I was driving out to town to go to Sonic or something stupid like that. And I was blindly digging for my lighter in the center console, you know, so I could keep my eyes on the road. Well, I was digging around and I found a little hard spec that I soon realized was a TOOTH! A molar. I remember being stricken suddenly with a fevered panic and licking around the inside of my mouth, checking. And then feeling relieved by the knowledge that I was holding someone else's tooth. A tooth...I didn't forget about it, but I tried to put it out of my mind. I ate my cheeseburger. Another week went by without anything out of the ordinary happening. I'm not working at the moment, so I don't do a lot. For a while the the only time I got out of the house was to go drinking with the old farmers on Fridays. They're nice enough guys, but won't come around anymore. They're scared now, too. Anyway, a week went by after I found that tooth in my car, and I was unloading the dishwasher. It's an old 80's model that doesn't really do the greatest job. Usually I have to run it twice. The dishes looked clean enough, so I stacked the plates up, and the bowls, and the cups. Then I unloaded the silverware basket, right? Well, mixed in with my corn picks, I found three little teeth. Three. Little. Teeth. I rewashed every dish in the house. I was pretty flipped out then. I took the trio of teeth and I put them in a little jar by the sink. I was kind of fuming. I smoked half a pack of cigarettes, and shook my head thinking...who the hell would do something like this? That Friday, I brought the teeth over to Joe's house. He lives across the street...I've known him since before I could walk. We were drinking whiskey with the all the fellas from around the neighborhood. While we gathered around Joe's jukebox, I dropped the jar on the table and I said, "Who's the wiseguy? Who's the asshole that's been hiding teeth on my personal property?" Nobody owned up to it, and I guess, rightfully so. We ended up calling it an early night. When I woke up the next day, I found half a dozen teeth on the living room floor. I put gloves on, gathered the teeth up in the jar and drove them down to the police station on 32 Road. They said they were going to keep that handful of teeth to run tests or whatever. They said maybe they could find out where the teeth had come from, and they sent a pair of officers down to the house to check things out. They told me to keep the gate locked and to invest in a security system...which I did right away. I'll tell you now, though...these cameras have seen NOTHING. Another week went by without anything happening. I started to calm down a little. And then I was doing my laundry and I found thirty two perfectly formed human teeth mixed in with my bed sheets. I checked every camera twice, saw nothing, and then drove back out to the police station. To make a long story short, the Clifton police department thinks I'm desperate for attention. They told me they could lock me up if they found out where I was stealing the teeth. Over the next few days, I found teeth in my coffee can, in my shoes, in the tank of my toilet, in my salt shaker. I thought I was going to snap. I did. I had to get out of the house. I thought that if I disappeared, whoever was doing this would leave me alone. I decided to get a hotel out in Blackhawk, and figured I'd do some gambling, and some drinking, and some crying. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I just took off. Even then I was stressed to a level I didn't think possible. I brought my gun with me, I started carrying it everywhere. I stopped off at the first decent hotel I saw, the Reserve, I think it was. I got the key from the clerk, went out to the casino, and started drinking. About the time my face went numb, the slot machine lined up for me. I laughed out loud like a maniac. I was happy. I was a vicious kind of happy. I tipped my bottle up and swallowed the whole thing. Glug, glug, glug. And just when I sucked down the last gulp, I felt something slip out of the neck of the bottle and into my mouth. My tongue hit it and I knew right away. I spit it out, a black diseased tooth, and I left my winnings by the machine. I went out to my car and got my gun, went up to the hotel room, brushed my teeth, and brushed away the loose teeth someone left on my pillow case. I waited for two days to see if this perpetrator was going to come visit me. Forty Eight hours and Nothing happened. I didn't sleep. I didn't leave the room. I didn't eat. I refused housekeeping. All I did was call the front desk to make sure they knew I was staying a few more days. They said, Ok. I slept with my back to the door. When I woke up, it felt like everything in the room was still in it's right place. I took a shower. I shaved, and I brushed my teeth. God. My were teeth are okay for how much I smoke. They weren't crooked or anything. But when I put the pressure of the brush to them six of my front teeth slumped out of my gums and into my back of my mouth... Tell me. Am I going to die? MY FUCKING TEETH ARE FALLING OUT!!! I'm back in Clifton now. I'm thinking about pulling the rest of my teeth. I lost three more. I'm sure the rest will fall out on their own...I just... Has any experienced anything like this? Will it end if I just get rid of my teeth? Please. Anyone. Help me.
My friend is getting married in June and we are throwing her a bachelorette party in June to celebrate. She LOVES vegas and we wanted to take her there, but for money and time restraints we cant. I was wondering which hotel/ casino in Blackhawk had the most Vegasy feel to it? I've never been up there so I am not very familiar with whats there. What do you think will best fit five 21+ girls for a two night stay? Also are there any attractions we should check out?
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