Word: gomezes
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 2000-2009
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...have a shirt I can borrow?" It's Scott Gomez's first year living on his own, and he forgot to pack a T shirt. He is sequestered at a hotel in northern New Jersey with his Devils teammates during the Stanley Cup finals, and even though the team is in a good mood after beating the Dallas Stars, 7-3, in Game 1 the night before, no one is helping him out. "Come on," he says to roommate Jason Arnott, "you don't have an extra shirt? You've got a better body than me. Let me wear yours...
Other than the shirt thing, which no one, not even nice-guy goalie Martin Brodeur, will help him out with, Gomez, 20, has had a pretty good rookie year in the NHL. The All-Star forward, 27th in the league, scored 70 points, 19 more than any other rookie...
...more than any other Latino ever to play in the NHL. You see a lot of unusual names on the back of hockey sweaters (Balmochnykh, Selanne, Satan), but Gomez still sticks out. He's the first Latino to make the NHL, and perhaps the first to try. Even though the Anchorage, Alaska, native needs an interpreter for Telemundo interviews, he's become a Latino hero. "Just because he doesn't speak the language doesn't mean he isn't proud. He's just lazy," says his father, Carlos, whose parents were illegal Mexican immigrants. "It's become such an issue...
Irony is a mode unknown to Peter Steinfeld and Nick Gomez, respectively the writer and director of Drowning Mona. They take the citizens of Verplanck, N.Y., as they find them, which is to say none too bright. All you need to know about this small town is that it was once a test market for the Yugo, and most of the citizenry still happily get about in decrepit versions of that universally unloved...
...Gomez and Steinfeld aren't superior to this stupidity--nothing smug about them, partly because as virtual unknowns, they're eager to please. On the other hand, there's a definite limit to the number of moron jokes we can absorb in 100 minutes, and their movie exceeds it. These guys have a nice gift for sly, sidelong comic glances. One appreciates the Coke machine that stands, uncommented upon, in the middle of the funeral parlor. One would not entirely mind seeing the dinner-theater production of Oh! Calcutta! they casually mention. But they need to be as smart...