A Bit About Brian

Born in 1978 and raised in the Washington D.C. area ever since, I have been a Capitals fan as far back as memory serves. I currently reside in Frederick, MD with my wife Emily and our four wonderful children.

My Love for the Game

My dad tells of the time he took me to my first hockey game at the old Capital Centre when I was just three years old. Fascinated by the raw excitement of the experience, I knew from that moment I wanted to play hockey. I signed up for skating lessons soon thereafter and joined my first team at the age of five. That year the Bowie Hockey Club mites did not have a goalie, so I volunteered. Boy was I glad I did. Anyone who has ever donned the pads can tell you that there's no greater feeling than being in that spotlight -- my team's games single-handedly won or lost by my play.

Over the decade that was to follow, I was fortunate enough to cultivate an intimacy to the game of hockey, the NHL, and its' players, most others wouldn't dare dream. Having played in hockey hotbeds such as Boston, Buffalo, Montreal, and Toronto; I have experienced first-hand the passion with which true hockey fans celebrate their game. It is with this same degree of devotion that I hold my game dear.

Refs Wearing White, Nix the Zebra Stripes

Certainly the majority of memorable moments of my days playing youth hockey came with the opportunity to participate in shootouts at the old Cap Centre. For those of you who may recall, these shootouts took place between the first and second periods of Caps games back in the 1980's. Being the lone goalie on my team for years, this afforded me the chance to step on the ice before over 10,000 fans at least 20 times -- winning the round-robin tournament in back to back seasons.

Before setting foot on the frozen surface, I would stand next to the visiting players as they made their way to the dressing room -- the likes of Gretzky, Lemieux, Roy, LaFontaine, and countless others whacking my pads and wishing me luck. These memories included sharing the refs' dressing room and, great as they were, were stained (no pun intended) with images of them stripping off their stripes and cooling down in just their skivvies.

He Winds...And Laughs???

The highlight of my youth hockey days occurred during the 1988-89 season. I'll never forget the day our practice ended and our coach informed us that he had secretly entered a drawing for our chance to play against the Caps. A few weeks later I was lined up across the Cap Centre ice from Pete Peeters. Wow!!!

My welcome to the big leagues moment took place when Bengt Gustafsson (my favorite player, by the way) picked up a loose puck along the boards in his own end. He rushed up ice as if trying to speed past Ray Bourque, reached the top of the circle, and wound up for a slapper. Now, mind you, my pads covering my shoulders were not much more than cotton balls and I received a few stingers from kids my own age. Well, I did what any reasonable child would do. I took off out of the crease. Mr. Gustafsson pulled his stick down and began cracking up.

Despite the yawning cage, Gustafsson did not score -- he was laughing too hard and had the puck stripped away. We went on to win the game by a score of 2 to 1. The only goal I ever gave up to an NHLer? Hall-of-Famer Scott Stevens slipped one five-hole from the point. My excuse? My skate got stuck in a deep rut made by Donnie Beaupre during the practice held moments earlier.

A few other notables from that day: my best friend was being taken out by Dino Ciccarelli during a face off, John Druce (remember him) was the referee, and Lou Franceschetti dropped the gloves but was unable to find a willing participant.

To the Present Day

Once my playing days ended in the early 90's I've stuck with my Caps through thick and through thin, albeit from a further distance. The day tickets went on sale for the Capitals only trip to the Stanley Cup Finals, I was third in line (and was intereviewed on FOX Morning News.) Imagine my disappointment when we were told at the ticket window we had to purchase a plan for next season before we could buy tickets for the Finals. So much for my dad's birthday present that year.

Despite my wavering opinion of the Caps management because of this incident, I have never stopped rooting for my team. The lockout of three years past made me realize just how much I love this game. Since having the boys back on ice I have not missed a game on TV and make it to the rink whenever finances permit.