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I don't know if he picks the designs, or if he approaches Bishop with some ideas, or if all the credit resides in the artist who painted them, but... Jimmy has always excelled with the design of his masks.

Has anything creepy or unexplained ever happened to you? Do people give you weird looks when you try to explain what you saw? Does any of the following apply to you? -Experienced things that move on their own -Saw silhouette or out of focus entity in a place where no entity should be -Got the heebyjeebies OR perhaps you simply enjoy the catecholamine release, the feel of your heart racing, the piloerection, and the sense of impending doom reaching out for your soul when you read about these experiences and stories. If any of the above apply, THEN THIS THREAD IS FOR YOU Here we will share scary and unexplained things that have happened to us or our loved ones, or creepy stories exclusively in the realm of fiction if we prefer. All are welcome! RECOMMENDED TO READ AT NIGHT WITH LIGHTS OFF UNDER TENT OF BLANKETS AND FLASHLIGHT note: because there are only 3 people in the water cooler, multiple entries are encouraged. note: this thread was inspired in part by a previous scary story thread that was posted in the water cooler years ago. I will share my story that I posted in that thread, but I will spice it up a bit to add to the story-telling. note: as mentioned above, you don't have to necessarily have experienced anything yourself to participate. The story could be something that a friend or family member experienced, or even just a made up scary story that has stuck with you through the years! The point of this thread is to DELIVER THE SPOOKY

Toews and Ovechkin suspended for backing out of the ASG after the league condoned, and even requested, that John Scott do the same. If I were them I'd file a grievance with the union. What a joke.

Tootoo vs Scott at the ASG xD

They should replace Tayes and Ovechkin with two more enforcers. Would make the ASG more fun and give Scott a chance to fight somebody.

He was probably afraid that Scott would challenge him to a fight and dropped out

Once Mike Illitch sees this mask Howard is number 1 goalie again

There's more to the story - Dylan Larkin edition just released. Enjoy.

Yeah they could use him for sure - they have a lot of talent in their system right now especially with Eichel and O'rielly. Jimmy could be a huge boost for them. He's a good goalie just being outshined by Mrazek (who is playing like Carey Price lol)

Wasn't Jimmy born and raised New York? Wonder if Buffalo is an option.

Kevin Allen is a voting member AND the president of the PHWA btw aka the guys who vote for Rookie of the Year (among other things). Great to see Larkin on his list (for now). "Larkin has been the best all-around rookie. He has been Detroit’s best forward." ^ Agreed!

No, Andersson would not have to go through waivers again unless he plays another 10 games or stays up for 30 days (he won't).

I could be wrong... But it's All Star break for NHL. Maybe they're sending those guys back down so they get some ice time?

Haven't you heard? If you play it cool you're over the top. Also, if you over celebrate and get excited, it's over the top as well. That's just science.

Part II The rules were quite simple: Same as last night, except the woods are off limits. Anyone who goes into the woods is disqualified and automatically "it". This time I was on the seeking team. Kyle and his girlfriend were on the hiding team again. Me and another friend from school teamed up and searched behind the barn and along the driveway. We worked our way through the bushes and grass, scanned over the perimeter of the pond, and eventually made our way to the main road before we turned back and doubled our efforts. We heard some kids get caught on the other side of the property, and we might have found some kids ourselves, I honestly can't remember. What I do remember is eventually we had found everyone except Kyle and his girlfriend and the round had been going on for so long that even the hiding team helped us search for them. My buddy and I were pretty burned out from searching for so long, so we essentially reduced our efforts to casually walking around the property and chatting. We were walking along the driveway back toward the clearing for the hundredth time when we saw Kyle's gumpy silhouette rise up from the knee-high grass in the middle of the field ahead of us and run towards the woods. He had probably 50 yards on us, but my friend and I were both fast guys and should have been able to significantly close the gap before he hit the border of the field and the woods. But Kyle apparently ran like a deer, and eventually his silhouette blended in with the skyline of trees and he disappeared into the brush ahead. We ran to the edge of the woods, where the grass grew a little more unruly, and bushes and small trees sprouted up from the ground before the woods proper took over. We combed the area with our flashlight. Part of me was certain he was just lying in the tall grass. Kyle is a chicken, so I knew, especially after last night, that the woods weren't an option for him. But we couldn't find him. And after what seemed like an eternity of looking around our ankles for any sign of him I had to concede that he ran into the woods, and was probably watching us from behind a tree right now, laughing to himself. "We saw you run into the woods, Kyle!" I yelled. "The game's over, we're tired of looking." My friend and I turned around and started working our way back through the field toward the cabin and the barn. Walking up to meet us from the driveway was the rest of our search party. Kyle and his girlfriend were with them. Apparently they were hiding in a gutter by the side of the main road the whole time. I don't know who (or what) we chased into the woods. To this day I get goosebumps thinking about it. Everybody was accounted for. The property was too big for someone to lead us to the edge of the woods, then double back to the front of the property. It didn't make sense. Kyle and I have gone back to his aunt and uncle's property over the years since then. Nothing ever happens, although its impossible to get him back into the woods at night. His aunt says the incident with the ducks hasn't happened since, and they haven't noticed anything peculiar outside of that one summer. I'm not sure what the best explanation is. Maybe it was all in our heads and we worked ourselves up too much. But that doesn't neatly explain everything. In fact it leaves a lot of stuff unaddressed. The worst part is while it may be categorized as "paranormal", its just as likely that there was some creep in the woods with us that weekend, watching our every movement.

If Mrazek goes to arbitration, us having Jimmy under contract will help keep Mrazek's salary lower

PART 1 If you were to drive north east from the Detroit area until the buildings thinned and were replaced by open fields and trees, drive to the edge of the asphalt and continue your way over gravel and dust, and zigzag through the array of dirt roads and stop at a particular stretch of land about 45 minutes in from Lake Huron, you would find the setting of my story. The setting is important. I want you all to see it vividly in your mind's eye. I want you to be able to smell the scent of dew on the grass, and the dust kicked up from the road when a pickup drives by. I want you to hear the call of red winged black birds and swallows and loons and bullfrogs. I want you to feel the warm summer breeze as it dances on your skin. I want you to experience the paradise that only country life can provide, and appreciate it the same way that I do, because when something goes wrong in a setting like this, it really sticks with you. Down one of these dirt roads lives my best friend's aunt and uncle. To get to them you have to turn off the road onto a dirty, dusty, driveway, sandwiched between a stretch of untamed bushes and trees and grass. The driveway continues farther and farther back, until it veers to the right and ends in an opening. On the far side of the opening is a gorgeous log cabin, freshly built, and home to my friend's aunt and uncle. Also on the edge of the clearing, but closest to the road lies a barn-turned-house. If you were to walk back behind the barn and work your way through the grass back toward the main road, eventually the grass would give way to cattails and lilies, and eventually those would give way to the reflection of the sky above. This is where their pond is. It is U-shaped, and the land on the far side of it is entirely wild and difficult to approach. If instead of veering right with the driveway to the opening where the two buildings meet you decided to continue straight (deeper into the lot and further from the main road) you'd walk through an open field with grass uniformly kept about as high as your knees, with the single exception of a lawn-mowed path which cuts across to the far side. All in all its about a football-field's length until the field reaches the woods. The woods are a conglomeration of pines and maples and beech, densely packed together so even on the brightest of days the woods are heavily cloaked in shadow. The ground here is soft, cushioned by generations of fallen pine needles and moss. If you worked your way deeper and deeper into the woods, eventually you'd come to the edge of a steep ravine, dropping somewhere between 50-75 feet down, where a creek marches through, carrying whatever falls into its path out to Lake Huron. For the sake of my story, the ravine might as well been the edge of the world, with the bowels of hell waiting below. We had all driven out there on a Friday afternoon in the middle of summer. Kyle had just graduated from high school and this was his graduation party. All of our closest friends were invited, as well as a couple neighbors who lived out there. And when I say neighbors I mean that in the country sense. Their house was a half mile down the road. That night we decided to head to the woods to play flashlight tag. Kyle, his girlfriend, myself, and one of the neighborhood girls were picked to hide first. We worked our way back some random distance into the woods and decided to just lie on the ground. The darkness was so thick that even by hiding in plain sight, the only way we'd be found is if they shined a flashlight directly on us, or accidentally tripped over us. Its also worth mentioning that I had a walkie-talkie on me, just in case something had happened to someone. Someone on the seeking team had the other one. Before too long we could see the beam of flashlights cutting through the black at the start of the woods, and the obnoxious grunts and yells of their bravado, no doubt produced to ward away any fear that creeps up on kids who wander into the woods at night. They spread out and combed through the forest, pointing their lights up into the trees, and down by their feet. It wouldn't be too long before they came to where we were lying and found us all. So we decided to split up. Kyle and his girlfriend took off one way, and me and the local girl chose to run deeper and deeper into the woods, until our path abruptly ended at the ravine. We sat back down, and I listened to the steady flow of the creek below mix with the shouts of my friends. It was pleasant. But I also heard the rustling of leaves, down at the base of the ravine. I remember pushing it from my mind; it was a raccoon or a deer or something. Certainly nothing to get worried about and embarrass yourself over in front of the local girl. So I returned my focus to the flashlights and shouting and worked my mind back into the pleasant state it was in before. But the rustling kept interrupting. It was almost like it knew it was bothering me. Like it was trying to make sure I focused on it and nothing else. It was obsessive and demanding, and insisted that everything else in the world was second to it. And then the girl spoke. "Do you hear that noise down there?" I tried to find any detail of her face to read, but the darkness was too thick. All I remember was her silhouette was very still. "Yeah. You don't think its an animal or something?" "At first, yeah. But a coyote or deer wouldn't be down there this long with all the noise everyone is making." And then the fear crept in. I had reasoned that there was nothing for me to worry about as long as the girl thought everything was okay. She lived out there. She knew about the land and the animals and what was normal and what wasn't. If she wasn't scared there was no need for me to be scared either. But her stillness. The serious tone in her voice. The fact that she was even mentioning the noise. I don't know if she was scared, but I didn't need to read her face to see she was definitely concerned. So I pulled out the walkie talkie and told everyone to find us back by the ravine. They all showed up a few minutes later. Kyle, his girlfriend, and all the members of the seeking team. One of them had a powerful flashlight; almost like one of those police spot-lights. After we had explained what was going on (and some of the other kids noticed the noises too), we shined the spotlight down into the ravine, and illuminated a small circle of woods in a sea of black. We saw the tops of trees that cut out from the side of the ravine, and through the branches and leaves we were able to make out a bit of land and creek below. Oh, and the movement, too. We saw that, as well. Whatever was down there was conveniently placed beneath the foliage of the ravine wall, protected from our light. And it was about then we realized it wasn't alone. More rustling rose up from the ravine, but this time it was to the left of where we were standing. It moved with purpose through the leaves, coming closer and closer, until it stopped maybe 50 feet from the source of the first noises. And there was more rustling, this time further out. And it, too, sounded like it was working its way to us. And more. And more. It sounded like the whole ravine had suddenly come alive. Yet no matter where we shone the flashlight, too much of the ravine floor was obscured by the trees that grew beneath us. It was at this point that Kyle had to leave. The fear had finally overtaken him, and there was no place he'd rather be than safely locked behind the closed door of the cabin. Half the group agreed with him and followed him out. Part of me wanted to leave, too. Especially because the thrill of solving this mystery suddenly becomes less appealing when half the group abandons you. But I decided to stay. So did the local girl. And so did a couple others. When Kyle lead his group away from us and back toward the edge of the woods, we all pretended to go. The handful of us that remained behind sat very still. We didn't make a noise. And we agreed that nobody was allowed to turn on their flashlight, or else we would give ourselves away. We could hear the movement down below. A bit of noise here. A snap of a twig over there. Then a voice of some sort. It was low-pitched, and almost sounded like someone trying to speak while gurgling water. To this day its the most haunting thing I've ever heard. And I know I'm not the only one who heard it either, because several of us simultaneously broke our vow to keep the flashlights off and illuminated the treetops of the ravine once again. "You heard it? You heard it?" It wasn't a question so much as a declaration. We all heard it and we all knew it. But sometimes you need the obvious confirmation to keep yourself from thinking you're going crazy. "Yeah. This is f***ed up. We should have left." I was starting to agree. Rustling noises are one thing. Even when the whole forest is teeming with movement and all your instincts are telling you something's not right, there's always the scapegoat of saying its all in your head. That you exaggerated the amount of noises. That it really was wildlife after all. But that whispery-gurgly sound is something else altogether. And even if you fell back on the notion that all the rustling through the woods has a logical and natural explanation, the voice at the bottom of the ravine breaks everything down. And so did what happened next. The rustling was different this time. It started at the base of the ravine, like all the other times. But then it got closer and closer, louder and louder, all at an alarming rate. It was racing up the wall of the ravine, snapping branches and leaving a trail of debris to fall through the canopy and onto the ravine floor. It was maybe 5 seconds altogether before the silhouette pulled itself up, maybe 20 feet away. And when you feel as close to mortality as I felt that moment, you don't take the extra second to raise your flashlight to the beast. You don't notify your friends. You run. You run like the wind because every other option means death. I ran as hard as I had ever run, and I could hear my friends alongside me, panting, snapping through branches, feet stomping through the dead pine needles. We broke out of the woods and into the field and didn't stop running. I felt blood crawling down my face and my arms itched where they had been scratched by branches. My lungs burned. That ravine was far too steep for anything to climb up. We startled Kyle and the rest of the group with our sudden entrance. We were a wreck. We explained everything that had happened, all out of breath and bleeding. After we told our story and got cleaned up and settled down, Kyle's aunt notified us that over the past week her and her husband had noticed duck carcasses out by the pond. Their bodies and feathers were all in-tact. They were just missing their heads. And they had no explanation for it, because a wild animal is more interested in the meat on the body than the head. I almost had a heart attack right there. It was all too much to take in, for any of us. Which meant the next night we were playing flashlight tag in the field. (part II to follow)

Let's dress Tangradi already so the people in the JLA can see what an actual 4th liner is supposed to play like. Still better than Andersson, though.

Yes, most of us were and it was... I just hope the way that we feel when Jimmy gets in the net is not how he feels when he gets in the net. I hate over analyzing every single rush, shot, and goal that comes his way, but here I am doing it. We can speculate all we like about him losing his way, how he's never going to get it back and what his behaviour and attitude are, but for the team's sake, I hope he can pull it together for the remainder of the season. When called upon, will get in the net and play his heart and guts out to the best of his ability. Even when the world will watch and over analyze every single play; I believe he will remain the consummate professional that he is and has been throughout his time here. I don't believe that Jimmy Howard is one to "sulk" about his situation. It is what it is. ...and when the season is over, I hope Howard tells Ken Holland that he would not be upset about being traded and waives or opens up his NTC.

How was that over the top? He scored a goal to win the game and simply raised his hands in the air as his team came over to hug him. His facial expressions didnt even change.

Waive a player, gets claimed: Holland sucks! Wave a player, clears: Holland sucks! Never change LGW

How crazy will it be if his teammates keep setting him up and the other goalies are easy on him just to piss off the league by causing him to win the MVP award?

I would love to get a "HELM for ASG" vote going next year.. I want to see him in the fastest skater competition.

John Scott for ASG MVP :-)