Welcome to Portland, Home of Bobblehead Geeks.

The game: Getting psyched for the Portland Winterhawks vs. Seattle Thunderbirds game on Oct. 2nd.

And how might one get psyched up for such a momentous occasion?: By meeting the players, of course. You can find the results here under "I'm all about bobbleheads": www.oregonlive.com/hawks.

What could be better than Nino bobblehead night?: Nino himself, who is still with the Islanders. But still, I am so excited I've accorded a special spot in my very small handbag for it. Now mind, I have recently downsized my handbag because I was slowly but surely turning into the oversize handbag lady, and I simply refuse to be one of those chicks who goes looking for her car keys and finds a baloney sandwich from 1972 hiding underneath them. Nor am I ever buying a cat. Period. End of story. I'm a single woman in my 40s. I buy one cat, I'll buy 10 and that's enough said about that. Besides:

I was a guy in a former life: The only thing I love talking about more than hockey is my car. My favorite hobby is figuring out how many times they say "what the fuck?" in "The Hangover" and I hate shopping. So when I said that Luke Walker's story warms my heart, it was not easy. Because I certainly don't say things like that, and I rarely think them. But his story is one that is worth reading up on. And he is a player worth paying attention to. As are all the Portland Winterhawks.

Morals of the story: For tonight's juicy bit on life and what not, I will refer back to my oregonlive feature on the three Taylors who are just back from NHL training camp. I have now actually met a handful of the Winterhawks in person. All are under 20 and living in a strange town with strange people like me wandering amok all around them. And in the audience above them on game night are guys like the one next to me who kept calling Brendan Leipsic "Scrappy" and "Scrappy-Do" all night long. Brendan has some growing to do physically, but he's one tough kid and one hell of a goal scorer. But it made me think: who are we as grown ups/fans to judge them, anyway? If we tried to make it through their 90 minute practice, we'd last about 90 seconds. If we had to make a split second decision on the ice instead of while watching it above the glass, I'm sure we'd do more than a few stupid things too. And if we had to straighten up and fly right and talk to bloggers, journalists and other hangers-on in between school, games, practice and long bus rides, I doubt we'd display the same respect, kindness, smarts and courtesy that I saw in the three Taylors.

After all, we were their age once and if I recall my own adolescence, it involved a hair dryer, a shopping mall and a pathological need to own designer jeans which had gone out of style by the time I'd saved enough babysitting money to buy them. So I for one have no intention of judging them. Other than to say this: yes, if they want to get to the NHL, they will need to straigthen up and fly right. But at least for the boys here in Portland, they already have. Game on and carry on, boys.

Next up: Onward with the collective bargaining agreement. Why is it taking so long to get through it, you might ask? Because it takes at least 48 hours to figure out what edition of Webster's dictionary they used in writing it. But I should have the next section decrypted by tomorrow around lunchtime.