Two weeks ago, I read this great article in the New Yorker, about magic and magicians. Magicians fascinate me to no end. One of the centerpieces of the article, and apparently the whole magical community, is Tannen's Magic shop in New York. (A must-see on my next trip).

The next day, I checked my website's stats, and saw a visitor ID I hadn't seen before. And yes, it was Tannen's.

Magic!

Yes, yes, I've added another blog to my blogroll and under "Risto writes." Check it out: hockey.com.

Europe goes back/forward to daylight saving time tonight. I've forgot which one is the "normal" time. The winter time?

Picked up playing the guitar again. I can play one song, and play it badly. But as proud as Mary, I play that song about her.

I just like to carry the guitar around, sit by the window, and just move my fingers on the guitar neck.

Yes, sit by the window where our neighbours can see me - but not hear.

I spent all day today talking to veteran and retired hockey players about winning. Everybody has a theory, but screenwriter William Goldman's "Nobody knows anything" applies to winning the Stanley Cup just as well as to what makes a Hollywood hit.

Nobody knows. Sometimes things just click. You have the right players in the right place at the same time, and good things happen.

Somehow, I find that heartening. And very, very fascinating.

In the Wikipedia entry for Robin Williams, it says, "Robin McLaurim Williams (born July 21, 1951 or 1952)." I find that fascinating. How does that work? Does anybody know his year of birth? Does he know?

Today, I also listened to WNYC's Soundcheck podcast about stage names. How did Gordon Sumner become Sting? David Jones David Bowie? Apparently, even Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a stage name.

I guess it's all about the image. It's like that episode of Seinfeld where George is trying to make his colleague to call him "T-bone." Doesn't stick because he's no T-bone even though he'd would give anything to be one.

Risto Pakarinen. Hmmm... Maybe it's time to pick a new one.

T-bone? Or maybe just a variation of Risto, like on the ticket stub with Heart's Nancy Wilson's autograph: "Reestow, lots of love, Nancy Wilson". Or, Kris Top. You know, with a little "risto" in the middle.

And let's just say that Kris Top was born on April 1, 1978.

Whoah, it's his birthday soon! Mine, I mean.

Here's my latest from nhl.com.



Read it here, or below.

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Another story up on iihf.com.

That much the Pelicans already know, they have learned it the hard way. So, while they had only a short fight in the playoffs, they’re not going to go for broke this time.

Read it here.

See this:



More Hankenstein here.

Here's something for the playoffs.

Anxiety affects performance by causing people to think too much about their actions, not because it is distracting per se.

Don't think.

Fifty years ago, Brazil and Sweden played in the World Cup final. Brazil won, 5-2, but with the 50th anniversary and everything, the Swedish media is running a lot of stories about the game.

In one of the photos, the Brazilian captain lifts the World Cup trophy. Around him, there's a half a dozen photographers, dressed in suits and ties, and the Swedish players, with their arms crossed, some are smiling and seem to be talking with each other a little.

Imagine that. Not even the Swedes are as great losers anymore.

I hereby confess to being a control freak.
I only like chaos when it's my own doing. And then, it ain't chaos.
You can test your own level of freakness by traveling by train during a major public holiday when they're redoing the signal systems, and replace all outgoing trains with buses for the first kilometers.
If you go through that smiling, you thrive on chaos, and you don't need to worry about grumpy people like me.

Easter is my least favorite holiday. Although, I remember this one time when my parents and I did this funny thing where you take the, um, go to the, uh, when you watch a lot of movies and try to, kind of, and you... In fact, the only fun memory I have of Easter are the funny pictures my father used to paint on the eggs on Easter Sunday. Other than that, Easter is just one big gray bore to me.

Compared to Xmas, Easter has nothing. The food's worse, there are no presents, the weather's bad, and it at least used to be a really long holiday with all the stores closed, and absolutely nobody around. Easter was a solitary holiday for me and the Good Friday, well, just an OK Friday at best.

Hopefully, this year, we can make Easter a Feaster, and paint a lot of funny eggs.

The airport is quiet. Only two international flights remain for today, and only one from this particular part of the terminal. Most of the shops are closed, only one coffee shop serves its customers.

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And here's my latest on nhl.com.



Click here, or read below.

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My latest on iihf.com:

Two more wins, and Leif Boork would be getting ready for his TV work at the World Championships in Canada later this year. Instead, he’s back in Brynas, back as the head coach, back to save the day.

Read it here.

Just finished some work I did for an American media company. On the bottom of the tax information document it says:


And then sign here, here, and here.

Anywhere you turn, you hear people saying that nobody reads anymore.

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When I was twelve years old, I got a book for Xmas. Now, I understand that hockey players (and coaches) and reading don’t always seem to mix, but this was a special book. That book essentially made me who I am. I read it that night, and again the next day. I carried it around with me for a while.

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My mother's computer got screwy on her way from China to Stockholm. The keyboard went crazy, and when the Dell support didn't reply in 20 hours, she was naturally left with only one option: to buy a Mac.

I wonder what she'll do if her car doesn't start when she gets to Finland.

My daughter turned two today. She was blissfully ignorant about that, but fully enjoyed the attention she got all day.

As did her brother, the emcee of the show, and her manager. I think his cut is 30 percent, which, having seen him work, is only fair.

Why do people often run as fast as they can all the way to the street, then look around, and finally walk across it, slowly? Why not just keep running?

If they're afraid of getting hit by a car, walking slowly is not going to help.

Is this one of the predictably irrational decisions we make? (And when I say "we", I mean "they." I run, baby.)

He got off easy. Red card is nothing, considering that the punishment for this deadly sin, wrath (or anger), is being dismembered alive. Of course, that's after the Big Referee takes the priest off the game. How he can be dismembered alive in Hell is beyond me.

Here's my latest on nhl.com. Or actually, here, or below.

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Twenty years ago, I wanted to become a Hallmark card writer. I thought that it took a special talent to make a joke in such a small space, with only one element of surprise - the turn of the page - available.

Still do.

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This just in.



Somebody's entering a crowded market.

A few years ago, Alexander Ovechkin was just a top prospect, the Sporting News covered the NHL, and I was editor-in-chief of Finnish Hockey magazine. How time flies.


Here's a piece from the archives: When Risto met Alex. (pdf)

Yeah, I'm blogging about blogging. Sorry.

I would also want you to acknowledge that a great player can end up on a bad club, and nothing can save him. That winning the Stanley Cup is not the only yardstick against which players can be measured. That a player like Mats Sundin can play on a line with the Scarecrow and Tin Man, and still have enough heart and brain for the three of them.

Read the latest Hockey.com entry here.

Here's my latest on iihf.com.



Read it here, or below.

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Arlanda is your landa.

We all should get a chance to play our farewell game so that all our friends and fans could come and show their appreciation of us because it must be a magnificent feeling to be at the receiving end of that wave of love.

In real life, though, it has to be earned, and only the best do.

I saw one tonight.

Here's my latest column on Scanorama, the SAS in-flight mag.

Google me, I know, I do.
According to a recent study, 47 percent of adult American Internet users have looked for information about themselves through Google or another search engine.

Sounds almost suspiciously low. I know I’ve done it.

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Relax. Take it easy. Put your feet up and enjoy. NHL Bloopers.

Here's the link. The embedded version was annoying some very important people.

Walking in the rain with my daughter today, I suddenly realized that I still have the same rubber boots I had on the eighth grade. I'm a man walking in a boy's shoes.

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Here's my pick for the Swedish League MVP. Ossi.



Read the iihf.com piece here or below.

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