On Frozen Blog

In the service of honesty, I will open two crucial caveats. First, I am a Caps fan, but I have lost the fanatic team loyalty of my youth, when I would videotape and rerun Greg Maddux on the mound for the Atlanta Braves during my teenage years or when I convinced myself that the Buffalo Bills lost their fourth Superbowl in part because I unfroze my clenched lotus position during halftime to eat dinner. I follow the Caps, I follow hockey in general, I’ve loved this blog…but my fandom is one primarily of player-attachment (I have a great fondness for Ovi) and a general sense of teams or players I like (the Caps, Brooks Laich, the Wings) and teams or players I can’t stand (the Rangers, Matt Cooke, Semin when he seems like he doesn’t care). So, this post resonates more with the lovely meditation on Montréal hockey culture recently posted by pucksandbooks than a close reading of Holtby v. Varalamov v. Neuvirth. (Although, I do agree that the Holtby demotion is nonsensical.)

The second caveat? I am a doctoral student in English literature living in Manhattan. Which explains why I’m going to quote William Wordsworth on how to write poetry. (Sorry.) The key, he says, is to write only after a profound experience in order to best capture “emotions recollected from tranquility.” Have the upheaval, be boulversé if we’re going to be bi-lingual, and analyze it later. And that’s what I’m trying my best to do here.