Islanders No. 1

Well, at least on draft day they're on top.
Chris Botta assures us, on his NYI Point Blank blog (a great read for Islanders fans, by the way) that the team will take Tavares or Hedman. Good. Because when I heard that Toronto would do whatever it took to get Tavares I thought about past years and nearly had a stroke.
Garth, please do the right thing and keep me out of intensive care.
Speaking of intensive care, being an over-the-hill rink rat involves playing on two rec hockey teams and being the local league administrator. My wife is understanding and has not threatened to kill me in my sleep over the amount of time I spend on hockey.
Let me give you a recap of last night's game. A 3-1 win for my team, the Road Runners. Unfortunately, I can take no credit for the win. I arrived at the rink (the Rye Playland Ice Casino) in plenty of time. Sat down in room 2, got a nice seat near the window -- 'cause if you've ever been there you'd know its the hottest rink on the circuit -- and started to get dressed for the final regular season game. We are out of the playoffs thanks to a 2-17-1 record.
First I put on my cup, then knee brace, then my hockey socks. I laced up and tightened my skates, at my age a tiring task. Then, I reached into my bag to get my hockey pants.
Not there. Not on the floor around where I was dressing either. I called home and found out from my bemused wife that they were still on my bed. Crap. She asked me why I left them there. Almost stroked out right there.
I asked teammate Stevie Ray Binowitz, a guitar-slingin forward if ever there was one, to go to lost and found to see if there were some discarded buckets I could use.
Now here is where I need to digress some. In Rye, the dressing rooms are upstairs and the ice is on the first floor. It aint the easiest place, but the staff is good and the ice is well kept. You also have to park a long way and lug your equipment, but that's an issue for a colder day.
Back to Stevie Ray. He tramps downstairs and across the ice to the office, inquires about pants for his idiot teammate sitting upstairs in his skates and underwear, and finds out the answer is no.
He comes back upstairs and lets me know that it was a workout. Like I don't feel bad enough.
But thats not the bad part. Here's the bad part. This being rec hockey and all, the most important job on the team is bringing the beer, or as I like to call it, carbohydrate replenishment.
Beer duty rotates throughout the year. There are a number of beer fouls, as far as I'm concerned. Bad beer is one. Not bringing enough is bad. Deciding to take home the ones not yet opened even if there are still guys hanging around gets you serious abuse for a week or so.
But the major misconduct under beer rules happened last night. The beer guy was a no show. This is just not done. There will be justice. I don't know what, but we can't have this. This is anarchy.
Yeah, I forgot my pants, but not showing up on beer day. That's like hearing the Islanders are going to trade the No. 1 pick to Toronto.