Columbus Day, part deux

So after traveling some 750 miles round trip to Columbus for my first hockey game of the season, a 5-1 pasting of Phoenix by the Blue Jackets, here are some of my thoughts about the NHL in central Ohio ...

This may be the worst place to watch a game. It's the first professional franchise in the city. Much as I love what Len Milano, my old boss at ESPN SportsTicker, used to call "garage leagues" -- which you can find here, here and especially here -- that doesn't mean this has to be one of them.

You just sensed this was the kind of crowd that lives for the crashes at NASCAR races.

It's been six years since the Blue Jackets first took the ice, but it's clear there is much to be learned by the team and its fans. Start with that monstrosity you see on the right. Develop an identity, not a cartoon. Look what it did for the Ducks.

And to the pregnant wench sitting two seats down from me in Sec. 214, Row H, here's a couple of things: 1. It's even strength when a power play ends. Full strength describes cough syrup. 2. Indiscriminately yelling "LET'S GO JACKETS!" when there is no action going on does nothing but make one want to reach for this.

For those two things alone, the snarkiness factor increases 100 times, minimum. Had noted column castigator and hate-mail recipient Chris Altruda been at the game with me, I could just hear the eye roll as he s-l-o-w-l-y tips his head back in exasperation.

One good thing was the girls on the ice to clean shavings along the boards by the benches and around the nets. I don't think the shorts could be tighter or shorter unless the name Earl Scheib was tattooed on each cheek.

There were two good things about leaving Ohio via I-70 ... unleaded gas at a Speedway for $1.97 ... and some very underrated coffee and donuts, eh.