1. Play Nude Kesler Dress-Up

While I would never advocate putting clothes on a fine-looking nude athlete, just think how adorable Ryan would look in a Western or 70’s Disco ensemble. The Nude Kesler Dress-Up kit would be like that magnetized version of Michelangelo’s David with cute little outfits that you put on your refrigerator. I think the Canucks should seriously consider doing the same with Nude Kesler. I’d buy 10 of them. Although he’d mostly remain nude on my fridge. Schwing!

2. Pin The Tail on The Bettman

This is an updated version of the party game popular with kids called “Pin The Tail On The Donkey.” Blindfolded NHL players would be made dizzy with offers and counter-offers from NHL owners, and then try to pin the collective bargaining tail on Gary Bettman’s ass. Oh what jollity would ensue! This would be followed up with NHL players attempting to split open a Bettman piñata by beating it with hockey sticks, releasing 7.5 million dollars worth of candy! Hours and hours of fun!

3. Dinner at Chick-fil-A With Tim Thomas

Now that Tim Thomas has decided to take a year off from being a goalie with the Boston Bruins in order to avoid having to meet with black Presidents, he’s got lots of time to spend over long, lavish meals with his gays. No, not at that liberal, socialist, latte-serving eatery called McDonald’s with their snooty French fries. Tim only eats at conservative, manly, peach milkshake-serving Chick-fil-A. I can’t wait to gaze lovingly into Tim’s eyes while eating god-fearing chicken sandwiches and all-American waffle fries while planning our gay wedding. I think we’d look fabulous in matching tinfoil tophats as we walk down the aisle together.

4. Bear Hunting with David Booth

I heard David Booth has a thing for bears, and that he likes to spend long weekends wandering around in the woods harpooning them with his long, pointy stick. What fun! But I think I’ll take David to The Pumpjack here in Vancouver instead, where you can lure leather-clad bears into your lair with delicious pints of beer instead of stinky, rotting beaver offal. Ewww!

5. Clothes Shopping with Don Cherry

Now, I don’t mind a flashy dresser, but, Don Cherry really takes it to a whole new level of terrifying, wardrobe-malfunctioning madness. That straight guy is in desperate need of a queer eye. So, I plan to take him on a whirlwind shopping trip to International Male for a more tasteful wardrobe of leopard-print bikini briefs and full-body thongs. I may even throw in a pair of luxurious lambs-wool leg-warmers for that retro Flashdance look. Snazzy!

6. Teach Cory Schneider New Impressions

Canucks goaltender Cory Schneider has impressed us with his uncanny impressions of Alex Burrows, Jannik Hansen and Alain Vigneault. But I don’t think he should limit himself to fellow teammates of the male persuasion, especially if he want’s a backup career in case this goalie thing doesn’t work out. So, I’ve got an entire weekend workshop planned to teach Cory how to impersonate a few famous female stars, such a Cher, Liza and Bette Davis. Maybe we’ll even do a few scenes from All About Eve with Cory as the young apprentice and Luongo as the aging star. Fasten your pushup bra, Cory, it’s going to be a campy ride!

7. Gatorade-Chugging Contest with Dustin Brown

I know that LA Kings captain Dustin Brown has been busy eating fro-yo out of the Stanley Cup all summer long, but, I’m sure the brain-freeze has made him forget that he’s directionally-challenged when it comes to drinking from a Gatorade squeezy bottle. Wouldn’t it be a hoot to challenge Dustin to a Gatorade-chugging contest? I’m sure I could win enough money to buy Dale Weise a box of Gatorade bottles with securely-fastened caps.

8. Diving Lessons with Brad Marchand

I know lots of hockey fans accuse certain members of the Canucks team of being excellent divers, but, having watched countless hours of diving during the London Olympics this summer, I’m confident that the gold medal in Hockey Diving would go to Brad Marchand of the Boston Bruins. He exhibited exquisite form and technique during the 2011 Stanley Cup Playoffs against the Washington Capitals. So, who better to take diving lessons from than sweet, little Brad! He might even be able to teach British diving vixen Tom Daley a thing or two so he can turn that bronze into gold in 2016. Win/Win!

9. Pee Wee Glow-Bowling with Jonathan Toews

Blackhawks captain Jonathan Toews takes his pee wee bowling seriously. It’s not easy knocking down those tiny little hockey pins when there are at least a dozen of them wobbling around on the ice in all directions. But I think I might have a better chance at beating him at Pee Wee Glow-Bowling. That’s when the bowling rink is turned into a gay disco and all the little pee wee pins are clad in fluorescent ensembles chosen by Don Cherry! Then it’s much easier to see them and flatten them before they can scurry away. Strrrrrrike!

10. Make a Music Video with Alex Ovechkin

When I think of Hip-Hop, I immediately think of Washington Capitals captain Alex Ovechkin. Who better to make a “Rockout To The Lockout” music video than a gap-toothed Russian hockey player who can’t dance his way out of a Mr. Big Deal candy wrapper. But his bounce-and-shuffle dance moves with stiff horizontal jazz-hands could use some work. So I’m hiring the two Pussy Riot girls that escaped from Russia to help with choreography. I just hope our video isn’t banned for 100 years by that grouch, Vladimir Putin. He needs to lighten the fuck up. But I’m sure I can coax an award-winning performance out of Alex. Move over Vanilla Ice!

Do you have any special plans should there be an NHL lockout? Be sure to send me a postcard! XO

There is no other word to describe this season for the Los Angeles Kings beside the word tumultuous.  Terry Murray was replaced by Darryl Sutter. The team could not score in a brothel if they all had $100 bills hanging out of their zippers.  Players that were penciled in as top 6 forwards were injured (Simon Gagne), not producing (Mike Richards), or busy eating pancakes (Dustin Penner).  The penalty killing and defense were near the top of the league all season, and the absolutely superb, Vezina caliber goaltending of Jonathan Quick kept them close in the playoff race.  

Jeff Carter

With the Kings close but still on the outside looking in as the trade deadline approached, Dean Lombardi made a blockbuster deal.  He sent Jack Johnson and his disturbingly high cheekbones to the Columbus Blue Jackets in exchange for “Party Boy” Jeff Carter. <note: we all would love to see Jeff Carter in the same Party Boy outfit that Chris Pontius made famous in the Jackass movies>.

As a result, the team won 9 of 13 and found themselves in a first place tie with the Phoenix Coyotes for the Pacific Division lead going into their last two games.  A home and home series sweep against the San Jose Sharks would give the Kings their first division title since 1990-1991. 

Going in to the third period of game #81, the Kings found themselves with a 3-2 lead.  The Kings have not lost in regulation when leading after 2 in their last 643 games, or some ungodly number like that.  San Jose would push back and a wild third period would see the score 5-5 late in the third period.  With the Kings already on a power play, Ryane Clowe reached out and played the puck to break up a potential odd man rush.  Would have been a great defensive play if CLOWE HAD NOT BEEN ON THE BENCH WHEN HE DID IT!

No call, because none of the four officials happened to be looking at the puck carrier in a tie game with under three minutes left.  No two-man advantage.  San Jose goes on to win in a shootout.  Thank you Ryane Clowe, you cheating moist steaming turd of a hockey player.  We might not have scored on that two-man advantage, and the result of the game very well might have been exactly the same, but we should have been afforded the opportunity.   You blatantly cheated, and you will never deserve your name on the Stanley Cup.  

The Kings would go on to lose the next game in overtime, and as a result, they would end up as the #8 seed in the Western Conference.  Instead of playing an inexperienced St. Louis Blues team, and instead of having home ice against the Chicago Blackhawks, the Kings would have a date with the Presidents’ Trophy winning and defending Western Conference Champion Vancouver Canucks.  JUST great. Most said Vancouver in 4 or 5.  Hell, I even said Vancouver in 6.  

Brown and Bieksa

The Kings outplayed the Canucks in game 1 and win 4-2. Vancouver is much better in game 2, but on the strength of two shorthanded goals by Dustin Brown the Kings shock the Canucks again by a 4-2 score. They would not only have a 2-0 lead, but they would also win me a twitter avatar bet with our resident Toronto Maple Leafs blogger Andrew. 

The avatar was of his choice.  He chose this: Well played Andrew.  Well played indeed.  

Back home for game 3, the Kings have a familiar problem; they simply can’t score.  The Canucks are clearly the better team through the first two periods, but Quick is SPECTACULAR, keeping the game scoreless.  In the third, the Kings are much better, and Dustin Brown would break through to give the Kings a 1-0 lead.  Because of Jonathan Quick, that’s how the game would end.  The Kings were up 3-0 against arguably the best team in the NHL, and I would win another avatar bet with Andrew.  This time, the avatar was my choice. I chose this:

The Kings have never swept a seven game playoff series, and unfortunately still haven’t.  Game 4 saw the return of the evil ginger twin and with it the return of the vaunted Canuck power play.  The Kings played arguably their best game of the series, hit two posts, missed a penalty shot, and gave up two power play goals giving Vancouver a 3-1 win.  More importantly, I lost the avatar bet.  Here is the monstrosity that a stupid Coldplay concert forced me to have for 4 freaking days!

 
As I said, a stupid Coldplay concert forced a 3 day break between games 4 and 5.  It would turn out to be worth the wait.  Doing his best impression of Adam Deadmarsh, another #28 Jarret Stoll would score early in overtime to give the Kings a 2-1 win and a 4-1 series win.  Kings go crazy, Canuck fans are stunned.  But that’s not the best part of the game.

The best part is where I watched the game.  I have watched every road playoff game at Gym Bar in West Hollywood, the only gay sports bar in LA as far as I know.  I showed up as the game was about to begin and was greeted by a small contingent of Kings Fans.  We all watched together; we yelled when the Kings refused to shoot the puck on the power play.  We groaned when evil ginger #2 gave Vancouver a 1-0 lead.  We screamed when Brad Richardson tied the game at 1 in the third period, and high-fived when Stoll scored to end Vancouver’s season.  This was the first time I had encountered a random group of gay Kings Fans.  It was pretty awesome knowing that there are others just like you, living and dying with their hockey team.

Oh, by the way there was another avatar bet. 

Since it was the last game of the season for Vancouver, Andrew will be forced to have this as his avatar until the start of the second round.  I know I know…I’m a bitch. 

Oh yeah, one more thing…BRING ON THE BLUES!

Cutest.Penguin.Ever!

“I’d never been to Southern California, but something about Palm Springs always…spoke to me, let’s say.  Listen, I know what you’re thinking: a homo who wants to go to Palm Springs is about as surprising as Ovechkin streaking down the left side and cutting to the slot when he gets to the circle. 

For me, though, it was always much more about the insane temperatures and the lovely combo of desert and mountain that I’ve come to appreciate so much. I put Palm Springs and Palm Desert in my list of cities for the weather app on my iPhone the day I got it.  I mean, seriously, 113 degrees for weeks on end without the humidity that makes my hair as unruly as a room full of coked-up celebutantes?  Um, yes, I’ll have one of those, please.

Johnny Weir at the L.A. Pride Parade. Not the type of skater we had in mind

Fortune smiled upon us and Mike, due to his work travels, snagged free hotel stays and we wound up at The Parker (Hermès soap!).  But we chose this past week because our Pittsburgh Penguins were on a road trip and were in Los Angeles on Saturday.  While the Aging Gays of the West were going to Palm Springs for Pride on Saturday, we actually packed up and hit the long, debris-filled (seriously, there were buckets, animals, and furniture on I-10 the whole way) freeway back to LA to make it to the game. 

What’s even better?  We had no clue it was Pride, and the blank stares we got from people when we said we only came to the area for a hockey game in LA were, in short, priceless.

Mike and I have this thing where we see the Penguins in other cities, and the game always, and I mean always, goes to a shootout.  The unfortunate reality is that we lose most of those games, so we went into this one expecting the worst.  Long Island, Madison Square Garden, Chicago…all shootouts, and only a handful of wins.  But we sauntered into the impressive Staples Center with an absurdly high number of other Penguins fans undaunted, just glad to be catching our boys in a place with palm trees outside.

Matt Niskanen

After warm-ups were conducted while Kelis blared throughout the stadium (side note: Flesh Tone was my jam last summer, and “22nd Century” is the perfect example of why that bitch needs to stay in the dance world), I was relieved to see that Jordan Staal and Paul Martin, both game-time decisions, were in the lineup.  Since these are the Penguins, though, there were new additions to the injured list, this time in the form of Matt Niskanen.  And while he frankly played like garbage last year, he’s been doing solid work this time around, so his absence didn’t amount to an eye-roll on Saturday.  Two defensemen called up from the minors, one of whom didn’t even play in training camp, in the lineup?  No biggie.  Hell, when we saw the Penguins in Chicago last February, I think we had two full lines of Baby Pens, so this felt like a bizarre treat.

Apparently this isn't Steve Sullivan. We'll keep the pic anyway

In the early going, the Penguins played a solid road game, but nothing was clicking quite right.  And then the Kings got into some serious penalty trouble.  After extended time on a 5-on-3, Steve Sullivan finally put home his first goal as a Pittsburgh Penguin, a feat so rare to this point that I felt like I saw Haley’s comet.  What made it even better was the fact that so many people were cheering, you almost forgot you were in Los Angeles.  Or that you were at a hockey game, because with all of the people waving Terrible Towels, you’d be forgiven for thinking you were witnessing a very special edition of Steelers on Ice.

As the game wore on, and as the beer took more effect, I got louder and more chatty (or verbally abusive toward the Los Angeles Kings and their fans, if you ask Mike).  As fate would have it, we sat next to a lesbian couple that were rabid Kings fans.  Now, I didn’t ask if they were lesbians at first, but let’s be real: that electrocuted porcupine hair and eau de patchouli told me everything I needed to know. 

On the other side of us, though, were two guys who waxed poetic on what a “faggot” the Kings MC was every time he appeared on the Jumbotron.  And although they were Penguins fans who high-fived us when the Penguins scored, our allies were clearly on the Subaru-driving side (and as the owner of a Forester, I can say that proudly). 

Mike Richards

The action in the game picked up, and there was so much happening back-and-forth that it was truly just entertaining hockey. Anze Kopitar, the poor man’s Evgeni Malkin, scored an absurdly beautiful goal to tie things up, and later, Mike Richards got tripped on a breakaway to set up a penalty shot.  There are few players that I dislike more than Mike Richards, and I prayed to the Lord on High that Fleury would make the save.  God delivered more than I expected when Richards flat-out missed the net, and I think my laughter was audible above the groans of the Kings/ faithful.

Chris Kunitz

The Kings did, however, score another one to put them up by 1 late in the game. 

Mike and I were giving each other the “of fucking course” look, but Chris Kunitz’s effort with just over 2 minutes remaining tied things up and there was much, much rejoicing. 

And like clockwork, we found ourselves in yet another shootout.  This time, however, the Penguins capped the victory on another Kunitz goal, and we were able to leave Staples Center without being catty bitches.

And with that, some thoughts and observations regarding our SoCal hockey experience:

1.) Grindr at the Staples Center was a bigger bust than Dustin Penner.  In Pittsburgh, there was a serious homo population at the game, and many of them turned out to be season ticket holders.  In LA, it was radio silence, which, though unsurprising, was still a little disappointing.  But there were nearby guys from USC who were all “masc and chill,” so there’s at least that. 

2.) The lesbians next to us were amazing and are going to South Africa to marry this year.  One of them grew up in Zambia, and I honestly am kicking myself for not exchanging numbers or some other contact information.   

3.) Speaking of Dustin Penner, LA fans were ruthless in their criticism of him.  Pretty much everyone around us was making jokes or throwing shade whenever he was on the ice or touching the puck.  I almost felt bad for the guy.

4.) Whenever Dustin Brown touched the puck, I touched myself thinking about the naked pictures that are now circulating on the internet.

5.) Some asshat in a Mike Richards jersey decided to engage me in a heckle war after the game.  After him telling me I didn’t live in Pittsburgh and that I was probably some “Crosby-loving douche,” I actually ran up to him, showed him my Pennsylvania driver’s license and turned around to display Michalek on my back, and capped it off with a, “Handle that.”  Mike was horrified and embarrassed.

6.) Bitches were wearing black mohair boots.  Prepare to be mortified.

7.) We still have Sidney Crosby to add into this lineup.  And, yeah, all of the other 739 injured players, but…Jesus.

8.) Hot, hot guys at the game.  So hot. 

And now we’re flying home.  Despite the ridiculous traffic, the palpable smog, and the laughable amount of phoniness, I think I’ve come to love SoCal and LA.  Truth be told, the hockey there ain’t half bad, either. Now I just have to remove the bit of cactus that lodged itself in my thumb after I mistakenly made a drunken grab at it the other night.”

You will follow Adam @adamkno on the twitters and you will like it.