I went to the post office the other day. Parked next to a car covered in Rangers stickers. Then the guy came out of the post office, and he had this giant Rangers tattoo on his forearm.
And if I needed reminding about how passionate Rangers fans can be, well, this sure was it (I didn’t really need to be reminded).
Fast forward to last night. I met with my sports editor (Rangers fan) and he said that we are going to try to maintain a better presence with the Rangers this season. I don’t know what, exactly that means, and neither does he. But we’re going to try to be at more games, more practices. We can’t travel with the team like the good old days, when the economy was booming and I even flew to the preseason games that the New York papers skipped.
We can’t even cover every home game with the staff we have left, and the business in the state it is, and the direction we’re trying to go.
But we’re going to try to do more.
This place might get a facelift. We’re going to do some experimenting with stepping up the Twitter stuff, and maybe Facebook—the only reason we didn’t do more of those things in the past was that, well, we weren’t with the team enough.
So we’ll see. So bear with us. Also, if you know of any potential new Boneheads out there, feel free to recruit them. The more traffic, obviously, the more I’ll be able to do for you guys.
So Larry Brooks tweeted that Ruslan Fedotenko, one of Torts’ faves from Tampa, is going to get a tryout. I guess it can’t hurt … unless he comes to camp, works his tail off just to earn a spot, then levels off and eats minutes that should be going to young players. I don’t think the Rangers really need another third-liner, do you? On the other hand, I am of the belief that it does no good to anybody to have top prospects playing third and fourth-line minutes. They’re better off playing 20 minutes a night in Hartford.
Thirty-two days until the Opener.
And this is where it starts to get fun, because 32 is one of those magical numbers.
32: Jim Brown, O.J. Simpson, Sandy Koufax, Dr. J., Magic Johnson, the late Elston Howard.
32: Matteau, Matteau, Matteau!