Slightly drunk, and not enough sleep. The holocaust historian convention seems to be in town as well as the pre-paid legal services group that seems to own the hotel every Monday. At Players, I cannot parse the Islanders-Rangers hockey game.

“What? How can you ‘parse’ a hockey game?”

I mean, I cannot read what is going on. I cannot see the strategy behind everything. Suddenly a player will veer to the right, and I can’t see the design behind it. Suddenly the puck will appear in another player’s stick, and I do not know how it happened.

“Magic.”

Exactly. For all intents and purposes, because I cannot parse the game, all I can attribute it to is magic.

“You need experience. See? Mid-field to center, center to backfield, move to block, ouch, blatant trip... (blah blah blah wonkety wonk blah blah-bbety-blah)... and... oh! Yes! Islanders score!”

Magic.
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