An attempt to provide a sense of the atmosphere I encountered in and about Verizon Center beginning late Saturday afternoon:

4:45 p.m.: We do not have anything approaching hockey weather. In fact, walking down 6th St. under a blazing sun, I'm uncomfortable in merely bluejeans and a business shirt. But I'm better off than six fans I pass who are outfitted in new red Reebok Caps' sweaters; they are collapsed and passed out against Verizon Center walls, sweat pouring off their temples. District Police revive them by removing the new sweaters and replacing them with old CCMs. Almost instantly the fans recover.

Seriously, I saw a fair number of fans in these rib-huggers out in the heat, and none of them seemed to be moving 9 percent faster than me.

The Caps have a number of young, attractive staffers scurrying about 6th and F Streets on Segways distributing pocket schedules.

5:05: The former Modell's Caps' and Wizards' gear store, which nobody seems to know is named what now, easily has 60 or 70 shoppers in it two hours before the game. It's actually quite difficult to move around in, it's so congested. There is rack after rack of new color and logo caps, and they are disappearing fast. The lines at the two registers are consistently six or seven people deep. The team's new look has been manufactured in a massive array of fashion in this shop, and it's clearly popular with fans on opening night at home.

Back outside en route to the press entrance, I seize upon an amazing sight: a band of about 25 or 30 men and women -- mostly men -- congregated on 7th St. wearing hot red wigs, red dresses, and red athletic shoes. This is no ordinary opening night of hockey at home, I think.

5:20: Predictably, it's novelty-night crowded in the press lounge. Comcast among other broadcast outlets is doing a remote outside the rink, drawing a lot of media personnel who'd otherwise be in the lounge. I arrive in the lounge with a mission to survey various media for their respective slottings of the Caps in the East this season. Here's what I achieve:

Mike Vogel: 3rd (obviously, he has the Caps winning the Southeast)

Ron Weber: 10th (ouch!)

Eric McErlain: 7th

Corey Masisak: 7th

Dmitry Chesnokov: 6th

6:00: In the press box I'm seated between Eric McErlain and Dmitry Chesnokov. Meaning, my hockey education will be advanced tonight, and I'll also have the immediate company of good friends. To the right of Eric is a Voice of America reporter originally from the Czech Republic. A couple of reporters in our row mention that the Caps have preserved a press box working space -- all season long -- for the departed Dave Fay. I mention to the VOA guy that my recollection was that Mr. Leonsis established that policy within a day or two Dave's leaving us. Incidentally, the bottom of page 1 of the Caps' 2007 Media Guide carries a dedication to Fay.

6:15: I'm in the refreshment area of the press box, which is partially glassed in, and seeking quiet there because Tim Lemke of the Washington Times is interviewing me about blogging and its impact on the Caps. He emailed me a week or so ago and informed me that he'd already spoken with Eric McErlain (good idea, that) and Jon Press.

The interview lasts longer than I thought it would simply because Tim and I have a real interesting and easy exchange, and he asks good questions. Also, because I love talking about this topic. Lemke mentions his impression that the four of us put a lot of work into OFB. I don't quite know how to respond; objectively you could posit that we devote a healthy number of hours each week to the site, but even when I'm writing at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning, knowing I'll be dragging in the office the next day by early afternoon, I never view the endeavor as labor.

Full disclosure (sort of): three times I ask Lemke to turn off his recorder so that we can chat off the record. I want to provide him as full a sense as possible of what has happened to us over the past year, and various members of the hockey community have shared with me, with a good deal of candor, what they perceive the state of things media in D.C. to be. Mike Vogel once told me that 80 percent of what he hears in his hockey travels necessarily has to end up on the cutting room floor. "It's a good way to preserve friendships," he told me.