Let the Wagering Commence
As you know, your Gormogons are generally an ill-humored bunch, given to squabbling over sports. Some of us hate baseball, the rest loathe soccer. Pretty much we all think the NBA is deplorable, and a couple of us are worried that football is being regulated to death by over-penalizing and review calls.

These two girls like hockey, but not as much as ‘Puter does. Soon, these girls will loathe hockey.
Indeed, our selections and preferences are as mercurial as our other moods. Dr. J., for example, is hometown loyal to the Predators, understandably, but has a strong affinity for the Philadelphia Flyers. Ghettoputer, as another example, follows his poor drunken sots on the Buffalo Sabres, but keeps close watch over the perennial favorites, the Washington Capitals.
Let us not get started on Volgi, whose hockey preferences are based on the Chinese five elemental system. Ask him, and you get some bizarre answer like Wood (the Wild) overcomes Earth (the Blues), but gives rise to fire (The Flames), so clearly the best choice are the Ducks.
Now, you know all this already if you’ve read our site for more than a year. The part you’re waiting for is the wagering.
This has been pretty light so far. Actually, Mandarin said he would be willing to sit out this year, and we haven’t heard from ‘Puter yet. GorT already knows the winner and has promised not to blurt it out seconds after we lock in our mutual bets. As far as the Czar can tell, the only going wager this year is between himself and Dr. J. And that’s only for the first round.
The Czar is picking the Blackhawks over the Predators. While the Czar feels the Blackhawks have their usual post-All Star game malaise and sloppy attitude, he picks them by default. Dr. J., so cruelly the victim of Fate in being denied not only the Flyers’ participation but also any semblance of taste, is staying with the Predators.
As a Blackhawks supporter, the Czar knows only too well that the Nashville community is aching to formalize a rivalry between Chicago and Nashville. The Predators, as a newer team, lack enough history to have some rivalries with other teams, but come ona hockey rivalry between Chicago and Nashville would be awesome. The Predators are a great team, with superb fans, and indeed play very clean hockey. This is exactly the sort of team that Chicagoans like as a rival (see also the Blues, the Redwings, and the Canucks as examples).
Verily, then, as we attempt to set a value on fairness, the Czar has resolved that if the Predators beat the Blackhawks in the first round, the Czar will willingly give to Dr. J. the following items: one of those cool spiky lightning conductors, a a marten for Loki the dog to play with (because even a dog can use a pet), some of Gruder’s Mystery Flavor Lemonade (a case of 24 ball jars), a live squirrel nut cracker, pickled snake head fish, and bacon-flavored baby formula for those cold nights when Lady J. wants something warm in a bowl.
Conversely, Dr. J. has acknowledged before his peers that if the Blackhawks defeat the Predators in the first round, then Dr. J. shall immediately provide the Czar the following: a urinating Santa Claus bourbon dispenser, new costumes for the Czar’s royal ferret guards, Swiss army tool box (frankly, the only useful thing the Swiss have done in quite a while), a Jeroboam-sized Bill Murray combo bottle opener and cutting board for the smoker, and a capybara foot warmer and ottoman combo unit.
Because this is who we are and what we do.

Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.