TML: Here's to Future Days

Here is Greener's post from this morning's Pension Plan Puppets.

A funny thing happens to a young NHL superstar on his way to setting a personal high in shots in a game: you electrify a nation driven mad with desire for culpable proof that their team will actually have a number in the "wins" column in the double digits. And by double, I mean, "2". As a charter member of that Nation, did I get all the proof I need? You bet your over-used Wellwood fat-jokes I did. So tonight, as the goal lusty Phil Kessel and the Leafs head into flavour country, do I believe Toronto will reach that plateau over a ripe-for-the-taking Hurricane team? Does a Wellwood eat in the woods?

The thing I found most noticeable about Kessel's first game as a Leaf was how dynamic he was with the puck. When he had it, he wasn't thinking "...hey, a drop pass would look great right about now!". He just wanted to take it and score with it. He failed miserably of course, seeing as how the score was 2-1 against and not 11-1 for, but still. The intention was there, and considering the season so far, that's a lot.

I feel a sense of peace and hope for the future that the binary star of Kessel and Gustavsson will bring to the Leafs. The future looks better than today. As the Hadron Collider is sabotaging itself from the future, Newton's third law has kicked in, and future Kessel brings hope! And goals! And wins! And the retirement of Howard Berger!

Don't worry Pension Plan Puppets fans, in this future your beloved blog still takes to the sky each night, now from our new HQ in an abandoned cistern miles beneath Mt. Fuji, where we take delight in the ugly, gutless play of the nearby Osaka Senators. Your core group is still here, except now "1967ers" calls himself "2012ers" for reasons too wonderful to even speak here. Leaf of the Day's still going strong, bringing us former Leaf news and information. Here's a sneak peak at future Kessel's installment. 2012ers continues doing a great job on LotD. Hopefully in May of 2011 you won't miss his two day piece on Jyrki Lumme's post hockey career rise to become Finland's top acid house DJ. See you then!

Maple Leafs: Turn Head, Cough

As a doctor, I have devoted my life to ending the pain and suffering of those wretched souls who wander the world without hope, without direction. Choosing this path in life has brought me many riches; for example, it's how I met Moose. But now I want to put my powers to even greater use: I am going to help the Toronto Maple Leafs.

"But how?", none of you must be asking. How is Greener going to do it? Well, if I told you everything, I'd have to charge every one of you my full fee of $****.95 an hour, so I won't, but I will let you in on a little thing I use in my practice. It's a little wonder drug called POSITIVE THINK-ING! And just how am I going to do this for the Leafs? Well, I'm going to the Leafs/Ducks game today in Anaheim, and I will be personally instructing the boys on how to change the course of their season. I'll be going into the dressing room before game time. A cool guy I met online told me he'd bring me in. He said to come around to the back of the Honda Center around 6:30 where him and his friends will meet me. He said bring money, so that'll be cool. I love making new contacts!

So, a quick visual lesson in Change Your Perspective, Change Your Life™, by Dr. Greener, PhD, PsyD, SeXY.

So, in no particular order, come... enter my healing place.

I mean, right?!? Whether you think you can or you think you can't, you are already correct! You Leafs CAN win, because you WANT to win. Y...Y...You do want to win, right? Guys? *hilarious crickets sound*

God, it's funny cause it's true. The Leafs have lost everything, if "everything" means every hockey game in the 09/10 season. So that means, FREE PASS! You Leafs, to a man, are free to do absolutely anything. If by "anything" I mean beat the goddamn Ducks and let we, the lovers who love you, regain the ability to achieve an erection smile again.

What I'm saying here is that allowing yourselves to live in fear is WORSE than going out and facing up to the thing that you dread the most. In other words, going out there tonight and playing as hard as you can, throwing shot after shot at Ducks (hopefully) call-up goalie Justin Pogge is a lot better than waiting around for Brian Burke to call a meeting with you, Jason Blake, and telling you he's buying you a ticket to the Marlies. Did I say Jason Blake? That was a slip-up. I could have been talking about anyone.

So there you are, a quick lesson into how to make your life a success. I'm obviously living proof that it works. When you watch the game tonight, and Toronto is up by... uh... well let's just say when they're up, just look for the Leafs fan in the stands getting accolades from all his new chums. And when you spot me, just know that I'm thinking of all of you.

KICKIN' THE TIRES

I'm a Torontonian, born and raised, and on her playgrounds is where I skated most of my days. Even though my important years were spent in the Cabbagetown section of the city, my first home, right after I was born, was Mimico. In fact some of my earliest memories are of being on skates in Marie Curtis Park. Mimico is a fine proud section of Toronto and in fact many members of that den of vipers that calls itself my family still live there.

Let's not hold that against Mimico.

I mention Mimico because of something that I recently read about Brendan Shanahan. It was in that paper written by that guy whose best work is his Wimbledon coverage. His article mentioned Mimico's own Brendan Shanahan.

...Now I know what you are immediately thinking; Uh, Norte haven't we been down this road before? 17 games and 5 assists of Yanic Perrault cost us Brendan Bell. And the less said about atrocity that cost us Alyn McCauley, Brad Boyes and our 1st round draft pick in 2003 (and correct me if I am wrong but did that pick not turn out to be Steve Bernier?) the better.
But this Mimico kid, years past his best before date (for sure), a man who probably still remembers the H Salt Fish and Chips jingle; won in junior, won 3 Stanley Cups, and an Olympic Gold Medal, oh yeah and he grew up grew up living and breathing the Leafs.

This isn't Lindros. Nobody needs us to lead us to the promised land. He isn't the final piece of anyone's puzzle. And he is not the prodigal son returned home after every other team closed their door on him.
But what he is, is a winner and a leader. (Like I said, this is no Lindros). And what this teams needs right now, maybe even more than a W is a Captain. A leader who can teach this team how to win. Not even a playoff warrior just a player to be accountable to.

And I can hear my brother's voice in my ear talking about Lou Lamoriello, "he's a great hockey guy Norte," he's saying, "and by everyone's estimation a pretty loyal guy....if he took a pass on Shanny...what does that say?"
And I'd say back to my brother, "Can you like take a step backwards bro? Not to be rude but your mouth smells like feet."
He'd be all embarrassed and maybe cover his mouth with his hand and say, "We'll need to play the kids."
And I'd shrug and tell him that floss is not expensive.

SYMPTOM V CAUSE

You can ask my posting brothers here at He Score He Shoot about all the posts I have begun but never finished this season. They're just sitting there in the dashboard of HS/HS mocking me in their unfinished-ness. I see them, with their barely funny titles, with half baked ideas that really go nowhere. Posts where I've compared the Leafs to deadbeat dad's and said that you and I (the fans) were like a rooming house where said deadbeat dads lived. I believe the big pay-off was saying something about making him pay his rent by the day.

Yeah, sad really.

And yet another post where I talked about set fights (off the draw), and how they were starting to remind me of the Rocky movies. With the law of diminishing returns etc, it's hard to get excited about Colton Orr's 6 minutes a game when you know what he is going to do.

How about the one where I compared the Leafs to the later seasons of Miami Vice. I believe I got as far as calling the Leaf forwards sockless pastels, and our defense as porous as Edward James Olmos' face. But really comparing your top 6 or bottom 6 to an Vittorio Ricci unconstructed blazer and making fun of what must have been debilitating acne for young Mr. James Olmos just seems weak. (Although I will say that I still agree with calling our goaltending the equivilent of rolling the sleeves of your blazer up.)

These un-posts were filled with talk about not liking the play of Komisarek, Hagman, Blake, Stajan or Grabovski...but its like duh...obviously, so that post fizzled after a few paragraphs too.

And that's exactly the problem this year. That this one, unlike any other year that I can remember, has left me utterly uninspired. I have found absolutely no inspiration in losing. So beyond the few interesting (?) things I mentioned above, I haven't had a hold on even one post.
There were plenty of things bothering me of course. I wondered why, for possibly the first time in my life, when I would watch a Leafs on a rush, I'd know - I'm talking KNOW - that it wasn't going to work. I would wonder if it was because we have the worst finishers since the Bachman books were published as an omnibus. And is it just me or do the Leafs not even dump and chase right? And someone please explain how you miss the net when you shoot at it? Luke Schenn?
There are some bright lights, Stalberg looks like he could be real good and Ian White...well...Ian White is Ian White (anybody know why he isn't wearing the C?). Stempniak is playing for a contract which is exactly why he's going to make about 1.7 m than he currently does.
Our forwards gamble less then the Amish on Pentacost Monday (or Second Christmas) when the Amish are generally confined to religious customs, family gatherings, and quiet festivities.
And you know what I hate? When goalies make shooters look better than they are.

...And you know what...the playoffs are over for this team already. I was never good in math but even I know that the playoffs are already done for this team. Like seriously over, seriously. Which makes me want to say serious-the fuck-ly? Serious-the fuck-ly? Already? It's like October though. Over?

This summer I wondered aloud why Burkie addressed the D and G but seemed to F the F's. Who is going to score? Now I wonder who is going to set up Kessel?

It hurts even writing this. I feel sad...like I should be wearing a black arm band or a button like Bill Cosby did after Sammy Davis Jr. died.

enter photo here

ps. I loved Darcy Tucker but showing a glowing tribute to our favourite of the Muskoka 5 seems asinine. Who in the name of sweet shit approved that? If I were on the Leaf bench I would have been livid.

STOP WITH THE PANIC YOU DUMMY

I have been accused of being a hater. I know that there are things that make my fists ache from squeezing them so hard. Everybody knows about my personal fatwa against the nation's capital (I will hereby never use that city's name again in print), there's also Daniel Alfredson, the instigator rule and Flyers Fans. People who can't cook but think they can.

Natural iced-tea bugs me too...like....I gotta tell you...I don't give two shits that you naturally brewed it in your backyard all afternoon.

I don't like finger lickers either, these are the same people who bang on the glass at games.

I would add Howard Berger to that list as well. But saying it seems too obvious; like hating Nazi's or multiple sclerosis. It's like yeah...duh.

I hate the human groin.

I was once doing yoga in my living room, and when I say yoga....i have to tell you I was just trying to stretch and contort my body in weird ways to make my baby son laugh. Saying it was yoga just sounds cooler.
Whilst in one of these 'positions', lets call it the Itchy Lotus, my son laughing his beautiful laugh, his mother, let's call her the fucking loved one, threw a gummy bear at me. Now it wasn't so much that I didn't know that she was there or that I was in a vulnerable position...it was that she threw the candy at my nutsack and hit.
And they were there man...just there....exposed like grapefruit in a basket of grapes. What kind of english she was using I don't know cos she somehow hit both with the one throw...kind of 7 10 split style.
And whilst my son laughed away I unpretzeled myself and did what Doctors would call wrenched my bag.

To this day I there are times that I know that I am one wittily re-produced electric O away from destroying that same nutsack.

And now...because of another weak bag, we're left with the option of starting our 3rd goalie or Joey MacDonald.

WILL HE OR WON'T HE? I DUNNO

Right off the bat I should tell you that this post will not be about the sens and or my snarling, angry wound of a loathe for them. I know that seems odd, as your old pal Norte rarely crawls from under the overpass unless it is to write a screed about how terrible, useless, awful and atrocious the sens are.

Couple that with the fact that they played the Leafs Tuesday night, the timing, at best, seems fishy.

Bare with me.

This post won't be like that. It won't be one of those where I mention how fat the thighs and calves of all the women in the city are. So what if they're all overweight, I say, they have to deal with Pascal Leclaire as their starter.
I won't mention how truly shite a city it is when one of its main attractions is 6km of frozen cesspool, full of missing cats and shopping carts.

....I fucking hate you Ottawa - no wait...I promise I won't sat that either.

I wont even really talk about the game... The Leafs' 2nd loss in a row or that their arena, which smells like feet, is in the middle of a field near some bushes and shit.

I promise I won't rail against their captain. I won't say something like he is a man so fey that David Hyde Pierce once beat the fucking shit out of him.

Scout's honour I won't mention the eye, the lisp or the Neil.

I wont make some left field dada-esque joke like Ottawa is like bad karaoke or mention how the whole city smells like the inside of some dude's ass.

I will not create a piece of digital art for this post; a visual beat so perfect that the nation, so collective in its hatred of that city and its "team" shout "hurray!" when they see it.

I won't mention the Heater or that the former Leaf Killer is now more of an Kings Killer than anything else.

I won't.

I won't even mention the game or the terrible officiating or a stick higher than Kate Moss on cocaine. Or that this team -and believe me I have to squeeze that word out like Fonzie saying "I was wr..wr..wr.wrong"- didn't earn their two points.

See.

Game Review: TML 10

Summer has given way to fall this week and obviously that means a couple of important things. One is: VAMPIRE MOVIES!!1! The other is new hockey video games! And until they can merge my two faves (online screenname: PhaneufBiter69), I'll have to settle for one or the other. To that end I want to review the newest game out there: TML 10!
Exploding out of the gate TML 10 is the best TML to come out in years. At least the best since the pre-lockout TML 04. For those of us who've suffered through the versions since that time it appears to have been worth the wait.

While the gameplay is top notch, the real draw here is the GM Franchise mode, where you play as Brian "That's Mr. Brian Burke" Burke, a hard-nosed Rhode Island Red with a long memory, a short fuse, and deep, deep scowl lines. The Burke character, working from an engine borrowed from "Genghis Khan" and "The Second World War", is a welcome change from past years as things in TML 10 have actually changed.

In TML 10, every skill, like skating speed and shooting accuracy, is attached to sliders. This allows Burke to dial them up or down. All except the "Fighting" skill which has its gauge locked at 100%. When this skill is in effect, the player has to fight and beat the Jesus Christ out of the opponent and if you don't the Burke character shuts your game down and you have to go back to playing Conker's Bad Fur Day.

After you've done an on-ice game, you as Burke have to play a "Scrum". In this game, you are surrounded by the worst lazy questions the Toronto media can lob at you. By aggressively repeating the sequence of X B X Y, you make Howard Berger piss his pants and run out of the locker room. This gets you an ovation from your players and 1,000,000 extra points.

It's still early, but I''ve loved what I've seen and played. It'll be an exciting game to play for the next 9 months. Overall rating: 8.5/10.

* Rated 'T' for Truculence. Not available in Eastern Ontario.

And Burke Said, "Let There Be Goals"

I'm not a religious man, to say the least. This one time a street corner preacher asked me if I needed to have my soul saved, and I answered "It's 11:30". In spite of this, I know when someone is doing the Lord's work, if the Lord is the Stanley Cup, and the work is kicking the shit out of everyone in the Eastern conference.

To that end, I sit at the hem of Brian Burke's garment. Me and 11 other saintly guys - PPP, Chemmy, uh, Trevor, and like, others - follow him around in blue robes loving what he's done with and for the Toronto Maple Leafs. By the power vested in him by his oft repeated mantra of personal truculence, testosterone, and perhaps some sort of magic sword, Burke has made the Leafs "something" other than the serving of milquetoast they were before he entered the GTA. No matter what you think of the deal to make Phil Kessel a Leaf, you can't argue with that.

Burke, seen here coming down from his place on Mt. Olympus, has bestowed onto us a team with personality, identity, tons of upside, and now, finally, an answer to the question, "...so who's going to score goals??" With Phil Kessel a Leaf, the team has in its possession a first line all-star who has every intention of continuing to live up to his 5th selection overall. Kessel was picked just behind Jonathon Toews and Nick Backstrom, and you know who the two first rounders Burke gave up for him are going to get picked behind? Their names are Who Knows, and It Doesn't Matter Anymore. It should be more than obvious by now that the Leafs' re-build is a year ahead of schedule, and a big part of Burke's rationale is, all he's trading are mid-round picks. In Leafs Speak, that's Landon Wilson and Eric Fichaud. Toronto now has a NHL proven, 21 year old guy who's going to score goals and push the team into the playoffs, and he came without having to lose a rebound ready Tomas Kaberle.

The Leafs probably haven't given up on a low number, Schenn-level player. 1) Because players like that are so rare they're pink in the middle, and 2) Because Burke traveled to the island of Aeaea to order Circe to concoct a brew to ensure that Daniel Alfredsson becomes sterile. That last one he did just for fun.

Amen.

Talk to Your Doctor About DDoSS

If you're anything like me, and lets be honest, with all my charity work, how could you be, you're someone who loves the summertime. Long, hot days. Short, steamy nights. Tops go down and tops come off. With all due respect to Autumn, it's the sexiest, sexy season. So, that all said, let me also add: BORR-RING.

This year, there are certain, special affectations which fall under the banner of Dog Days of Summer Syndrome™. These symptoms last precisely from the closing of Tomas Kaberle's trade window, to the first time a member of the creep-cabal of Berger/Cox/Simmons makes the "joke" that since it's pre-season, the Leafs are tied for first in the league.

Here's a major DDoSS symptom: Sitting at work refreshing the NHL page at TSN.ca 700 times a day between noon and 4. Because of this, it must be a happy time for the the good people at Coldwell Banker right now, because their click-through rate is going through the roof! There's nothing else to look at. Seriously nothing epitomizes the lack of hockey news going on more than hoping there will be a development in the Phoenix Coyote's Don't Have a Lease and Might Have toZZzzz-zzz-zz...

I'm so desperate for any hockey information, that I've been doing something I never, and I mean NEVER do: read about the Ottawa Senators. See, I don't even like to acknowledge the Ottawa Senators, so that usually precludes reading about them. But during the long, long summer one learns that the motto of sufferers of DDoSS is that beggars can't be choosers.

So for the first and almost certainly last time... have you seen what's happening with the Senators lately? Man, they are way worse than I thought they'd be! OK, that's a lie because given half a chance I'd tell you what an ugly, gutless bunch of assholes they are, but wow, everything around them is awful!

Have any of you been reading Don Brennan? Brennan, a Sun Media drone with a soul patch, must believe in karma, because the Universe is forcing him to write about the Senators. Lately he's been covering the Dany Heatley thing I'm loving every minute of situation, and, like everyone else who writes for that paper, is bad at his job. Doing away with such dull and antiquated notions as journalistic integrity, impartiality, and that whole - not putting yourself ahead of the story - thing, Brennan wrote an article after Heatley's "why I done it" press conference, stating,

The 'A' worn by Dany Heatley stands for Asinine.

The reluctant Senator proved he is also worthy of an 'A' for Arrogant and 'P' for Pompous with all the whining he did on a conference call late last week.

Without further delay, his 'A' should officially be removed. If not dramatically ripped off with threads flying everywhere during a ceremony at Parliament Hill.

Ooooo-k. Here's another letter: 'D' for Don Brennan is completely, wonderfully insane. Now remember, this is not a blogger. This is someone paid to write for public consumption. Like the guy who writes out the menu in chalk on the board at your local pub. Only not as good. Brennan went on in the piece, obviously feeling that the article was skewing a little too subtle:

Dany Heatley doesn't need that 'A' on his sweater. He has one permanently tattooed on his chest, right above the spot that those with a backbone have a heart.

Two things strike me about that. The first is that it is absolutely bananas, and the second is that it's the same thing we've all been saying for 10 years now. The moment you put on that ugly uniform, you just get a concave silhouette. But Brennan takes it so personally, as if he were the one showering "Heater" with contractually obligated cash.

There's an interesting thing I've noticed about the way the Leafs and Senators are covered by their respective media followers. Whereas the jackals who feed year in and year out on the succulent body of the Leafs (again, Berger, Cox, Simmons et al) all seem to hate the team, delighting in slanting everything about them downward, the uh, people who cover Ottawa (Brennan, Bruce Garrioch) are all apologists, who herniate themselves trying to ameliorate a rotten, soulless team. I honestly have no idea which kind is worse.

Kerry Fraser: The Divider

This is a re-post of my article written for the great Pension Plan Puppets, from Thursday. It's here to give everyone who hasn't already read it on PPP a chance to see it. All none of you.

As I sit here writing a post about Kerry Fraser, I sit here having a heated argument with someone I've never argued with... about Kerry Fraser. This person, whom I'll call "my 4:00 patient", listened intently to everything Fraser said as he fought for his life yesterday on Leafs Lunch. After telling me her impressions of the interview, which were "he said the non-call had nothing to do with it being Gretzky", and "...he seems like a genuine guy", I gave her my impressions, which were, "You're absolutely nuts", and "That'll be $2700 please".

AM 640 held the interview in its floating studios out on Lake Ontario, pirate radio style. This was because the Leafs Lunch technicians realized that the making of a street-level gallows is very noisy, and those mics pick up everything, so the station had to take it off-shore. After all that fuss, Fraser took calls made by Leafs fans, which is ironic, as he can't stand making calls himself.

I'm not sure what prompted Kerry to want to talk about himself, but I suspect he's going on a "protect the legacy" tour, kind of like George Bush. I know it's strange to think, but actually those two have a lot in common: Both men rose to their positions' highest office. Both men have all their hair. Both men totally ruined the world. Stripes never, ever, looked more fitting.

Leafs of Fury

This is a re-post of my article written for the great Pension Plan Puppets, from Thursday. It's here to give everyone who hasn't already read it on PPP a chance to see it. All none of you.

When Brian Burke and his collection of thesauruses became Leafs GM last November, a (Leafs) nation so used to absorbing the polite banalities of say, Stephen Harper, or the completely made up writing of say, Howard Berger, turned on its collective heel, not quite knowing what to make of such a Sassy Sally.

Much, much, much has been made of Burke's supposed use of the word "truculent", a 16th century word, meaning, in part, "fierce; cruel; and savagely brutal. I say supposed because I actually never heard him Burke say it, and I figure it could be turning one of those "Play it again, Sam" things; something which everyone believes was said, but never actually was.

Now before all you awesome joke killers little darlings fill the comments section with a thousand Toronto Sun links showing Burke's quote, let's just look at the point Burke was making when using the term: That win or lose, your Toronto Maple Leafs are going to be something we're all going to be proud of, really, really and enjoy watching.

Remember, this is a team that, just two years ago, was hoping that that plate of Hamburger Helper on skates - Kyle Wellwood - was going to be its first line centre. Wellwood, a player only a mother could love, and by mother, I mean Navin from Sports and the City, is like that girl/boyfriend from your past you just can't believe you went out with, but, you know, you're stronger now, and you'd never be that stupid again. Wellwood is an embarrasment to the fucking Vancouver Canucks, let alone the Leafs. At least the Leafs saved face by dumping him.

So what can we expect from the 09/10 Leafs? How fierce; cruel; and savagely brutal will they be? Let's ask the trembling chicken hearts beating in the "chests" of the Ottawa Senators, or the little people in Montreal who get to face the Leaf monsters all season. On Saturday night. In front of their parents. Here's a future echo of the truculence the Leafs will have this season: Want more proof? Please note that Bruce Lee is the Alternate captain.

Q AMPERSAND A

I get a lot of fan mail here at He Score, He Shoot!. Hockey guys mostly, shut ins, some sluts; long time listeners, first time writers. They fawn a lot, which is nice. There is something though that every single one of the literally tens of letters I have gotten have in common: they all ask me if I hate Ottawa as much as I write I do.

You just can't, they write. It's unhealthy to be filled with that kind of blah blah blah, they reason. Massive coronary, they warn. Using a lot of words and sentences that end in exclamation points. I write these fans back, sometimes in my own blood, sometimes in others' and tell them that they should mind their own goddamned fuckin' asshole business.

But seeing as everyone has asked and seeing as we're a few weeks removed from the chummed waters of free agent signings. With all the interesting stories already written and the fear that Kaberle could turn into this summer's Sundin. His where, when and for what replacing last summer's will he, won't he, why wouldn't he? as most annoying by- line.
And there being a really obscene amount of times between posts here at HS/HS. Let me answer the question honestly and objectively.

Ottawa: Oh , How I Hate Ye

It was this Canada Day where I really enjoyed the Dany Heatley saga. Because I was imagining those filthy bastards. The whole crusty-healed throng sitting on the 'hill', wondering aloud, "les odeurs d'air comme farts, uh?". Shaking their fists in between polite applause for the entertainment. Between those kids who dance from Otter Lake and that girl fiddler, just after their hit of angel dust or Molson Canadian (or whatever gets them through their day) they'd bemoan.
"That godamn 'Eatley.'
"I hate dat godamn guy, me." Someone would answer.
"Dat friggin guy." Another would say.
"....godamn Murray." They'd all say in unison, raising their fists like they're the gold and bronze medalists (respectively) of the 200 metres at the 1968 summer games in Mexico City.
"That guy's an arsehole." Someone would yell.

Max Keeping would be onstage saying gidday and wearing something embarrassing. You can bet that at some point in the afternoon you were going to hear him lisp, "Ladies and Gentlemen... The Nylons!"

J.J Clarke, (my 2nd most hated Clarke after Bobby) would be standing on Sparks Street telling the people watching at home that it's sweater weather and to be wary of the wind chill, and that, oh yeah, that OC Transpo has a special ride all day for $25 Canada Day promotion so there is no reason to drive and drive.
The look of panic on J.J's face as obvious as a neon coldsore, and the flop sweat pooling around his neck suggest that J.J. has already had too many 7 and 7's.
(I've heard that he lost all his money investing in a Planet Hollywood in Manotick.) Whatever it is, J.J. looks like a man who took a very hard kick to a very fat stomach.

Somewhere near the CJOH van Chris Neil would be selling cigarettes to school kids and bullying others. The sleeves of his too-tight jean jacket would be pushed up as he'd yell "2 for flinching!" at the passerby.

And it would be there, close enough to hear the skateboarders not landing any tricks at the War Memorial that you could close your eyes and take it all in; Ottawa: A loud roar of nitrate, trans-fatty acid and Pepsi burps.

Kovalev Leaves Habs. Cuts Off Nose, Spites Face

When news that Alex Kovalev had been booted from the Lollipop Guild Montreal Canadiens reached me at the charity I do wonderful un-publicized work for, the first thing that struck me was, "Hey, keep it down, I'm operating!" The second, was, "Awesome! Now I get to write a post ripping a team other than the Ottawa Senators!" Ah, silly. Why are the beautiful ones always so dumb?

Ignoring the obvious fact that Kovalev signed with Ottawa merely to get a chance to stick it to Bob Gainey and the rotten-hearted Kostitsyn brothers 10 times a year, lets just say that the Senators' hubris has reared its ugly, scarlett head, and once again, Ottawa gets the type of player it so richly deserves: Lazy, self-entitled, and, whenever they feel like it, prone to taking a couple months off. Months like January and March.

In spite of this, some Habs fans actually wanted to see Kovalev stay in Montreal, if only because he was the only member of their team who could reach the overhead compartment on the team bus. And amazingly, a hundred of them gathered at the Bell Center to show their support for the cause. I say amazing because this is the first time in history 100 Habs fans have gotten together without flipping over and burning a cop car.

But the real victims in a situation like this- the ones who will suffer the most from Kovalev leaving Montreal- are of course, the cities' stripper population. As the Bell Center rally was taking place, all over St. Catherines st. candlelight vigils were being held, at places like the Maison du Sexe. The strippers there, colloquially known as "Montreal's Other Smoked Meat", are devastated, as they know that Kovalev's absence means their earnings are projected to go down 12,000 percent.

Maison dancer Sylvie St. Germain* was quoted as saying:

"Dat Kovi, huh? He come in da one time wit Enrique Eglasias. Oooh we pardy-hardy dat nights! And da best part was, dey only hit me once! He will be miss."

* Not her real name

Senators Hire Leeder. Well, Now They Have One

Taking a cue from the voices in his head, Ottawa Senators farmer Eugene Melnyk continues his comi-tragic rearranging of the Titanic deck chairs, by booting one loser inside his creep-filled organization for another. Out is former president Roy "No, That's Actually How You Spell It" Mlakar. In is current COO, the unbelievably named, Cyril Leeder.

Not even hairy Ottawa native Alanis Morissette could miss the irony in a guy named "Leeder" taking a position with the Ottawa Senators. The Sens, a bunch so gutless their team photos look like a bunch of x-rays, have gone without any sort of team leadership since they re-emerged from the filthy Rideau Canal to once again pollute the NHL with their overweight fans, heartless play, and ugly uniforms. The only time the Senators did anything great were the years between 1934 and 1992. These heady times were the decades the team didn't exist, or as I call them, "The Good Ole' Days".

Leeder, seen here conferring with Daniel Alfredsson, has been with the Senators since its very inception, and, despite the diabolical karmic implications of his actions, appears to be relatively tumor free. He replaces the long serving Mlakar, who was damned by faint praise by Melnyk who said he had,

"...contributed greatly to defining the Ottawa Senators and our relationship with our community and our fans."

...which means creating a team of losers and their followers becoming the laughingstock of the league. In the meantime, Mlakar is now free to pursue his hopes and dreams, and this morning heard the sound of his own laughter for the first time in 13 years.

RUMORS, TRUCULENCE AND WHEELING AND DEALING ON THE DRAFT ROOM FLOOR

During the MLSE press conference introducing Brian Burke as new Leafs GM, amid talk of plumber jobs, patience and of building from the net out, right after Burke's track record was trumpeted but just before admitting to a little dumb luck, he spoke of pugnacity, testosterone, truculence and belligerence.

With a couple of weeks (15 days actually -ed.) left before draft day and a full season behind us, surely Brian wasn't speaking of this time right now. Because as we sit 7th in a 5 horse race, pugnacity, testosterone, truculence and belligerence are exactly what's needed to either move up or to wheel and deal.

Everyone knows that this draft is the deepest in years, but general consensus says that there is the top 5 then a drop, the next 5 and then another drop. I feel like we may be able to move up 2 more spots - but if not, 7th suits me fine. And at 7th I've read the speculation that we'd take everyone from Jared Cowen to Magnus Svensson-Paajarvi. I think it's a safe call to say that Brayden Schenn will not be available at 7. I think I even heard Burke say so himself in an interview.

(As I write this there is talk and it's making me barf in my mouth a little. Apparently, the Heater, Dany Heatley, has requested a trade. What's making my mouth well with bile is that I keep hearing he will be traded for this year's 5th. And we all know that those godamned cock-sucking assholes will pick Schenn just to spite us. They're just the type of disgraceful douchebags to do so).


This years top 3 seems to be set. And even though all signs seem to point to Matt Duchene absolutely killing it at the combine, he is still #3 on everyone's list. Top 2 seems to be a tossup. More often than not it's JT going first, but I've seen more than a few postings where the Isles take Hedman. Leave it to Canadian media to eat its own and call Tavares' defensive ability into question and get the next one picked 2nd.

Of course the rumours are flying, some of my favourites are; Grabovski and our 7th to Atlanta for their 4th. (Apparently they're very interested in Evander Kane who will still be available at 7).

Or that horrid one about Kaberle, Strahlman and our 1st to the Rangers for Dubinsky, Stall, Redden and their 1st (19th). This one scares me because its Stall and, let's face it, Dubinsky is a Burke type player. And at 19th, in this years draft, I believe we could still get a Landon Ferraro or a Scott Glennie or maybe even a Carter Ashton, who's dad Brent, spent nearly 15 years in the league. And not that long ago Ryan Getzlaf went 19th (not to mention Mike Richards 24th and Corey Perry 28th).

But Wade fucking Redden? Besides having that sens stink of awfulness still on him, his contract is so bad, so Mike Millbury-esque that its a shock that Slats still has a job.
I would take any Stall any day of the week...but Wade Redden? I think I would rather have Andrew Raycroft as my number 1.

Did anyone else read that ridiculous rumour written by a supposed former consulting aide to Brian Burke? Who after being 'let go' delivered (via a Damian Cox message board) some set in stone drivel that came with a spoiler alert warning and had us trading away; Justin Pogge, Tomas Kaberle, Mikhail Grabovski, Pavel Kubina, 40% of Kubina's contract, two 2nd round picks in 2009, Matt Stajan, and the 7th pick in 2009 for the 3rd and 4th picks overall. Where we select Hedman and Schenn.(The Heatley talk is still going on and on but as I write this I've been thinking, what with Heatley making it public he wants a trade, does such public knowledge not open the doors for them to be low-balled? Not to mention a brutal 5 year, $7.5M contract that also contains a NTC/NMC. (So say goodbye to all of those top picks from re-building teams). Of course the fans of that team; those ghastly, caked-on ass-eaters are all overvaluing him and thinking they are dealing from a position of strength, imagining picks and prospects returning.
Hope you Tiva-wearing cunts like Olli Jokinen or Patrik Marleau. God I hate you all so much).

A few others....Kaberle and our first in 2010 to the Bolts for their 2nd and Ryan Malone. (An obvious salary dump). And/or Kubina, Poni, 7th and a 2nd to the Avs for their 3rd. Where we would then draft either Hedman or Tavares (again depending on #1) and Duchene with that 3rd. Talk like that gets my mouth watering because we would instantly become young and very talented.

It would be the next step in the long term solution for us poor Leafs fans. We'd be free of that Pat Quinn schematic; Play your veterans and pay them bloated salaries that don't match performance or production. Insist that signing 30+ year olds makes more sense than the draft-schmaft. Brad Boyes for Owen Nolan.

It's about developing your talent and using free agency to compliment that core, not the other way around.

The point is this: trade rumours and number of draft picks aside, I really believe our supporting cast is falling into place. Perhaps we need a Boogaard here, and a Beauchemin there. Personally I would stay away from Komiserak but chase JBo - thus allowing us the leverage of trading Kaberle and Kubina come Canada Day.

And finally all this talk about the Sedins coming to the Leafs. What bothers me is this. I keep reading how they want to stay in Vancouver; but if Gillis doesn't and hasn't signed them then what does that ultimately say about the faith he has in them? PPG guys yes, amazing ability to find each other on the ice yes, red pubes - yes.
And it's not a cap issue, as Vancouver, like Toronto, have lots of cap space. So something stinks in B.C, and this time it's not all the drunken Indians.

GO SENS GO? I'D RATHER BE TAGGED IN THE NUTS BY A VERY STRONG MIDGET

Word came from no less than 4 separate Sens fans yesterday morning. We're talkin' people who woke up and thought that one of the first things they had to do was go on-line, email me and cyber-gloat. It's astounding really but as I have said before, if there's one thing you can count on with sens fans, it's douchebaggery.

You people (who wrote me, you know who you are) who figure leapfrogging the Leafs for 11th in the East is something to gloat about intrigue me. I suppose though, coming from Ottawa aka the World's Shittiest City, you gotta take what you can get. We all know that fat legs aren't something to brag about so it's beaver tails, Voice of Fire and now being only slightly less shitty statistically that the Leafs.

Remember when you were in the Stanley Cup final not that long ago?

You know me well enough to know how I feel about Ottawa but just in case my long absence has made you forget let me remind; I hate the Ottawa Senators like poison. Like poison, you hear me? Skull and crossbones on the label poison. The whole grabbing at your own neck, saying 'gak!, how could you?' with your last breathe poison. (And when I say Ottawa Senators, I include Ottawa, the valley and a handful of South West Quebec too; the people and their team. I’m talking the old, the young, the sick, the retarded, the good, the bad, the ugly. Babies, twins, immigrants, pets, lesbians, my friends, my relatives…it doesn’t matter…you and it are all the same diarrhea bouillabaisse to me.

It and you are all dreadful, so terribly terribly dreadful that if this was 16th century Turkey, I would hunt you all down like Albanians. You and it are so horrible, so scabby, pimply-assed ugly and terrible that you feel the need to gloat about being 13 points out of the last playoff spot. If it didn't border on a police matter I might even say that the best way to describe my feelings would be to quote Bruce Cockburn and say that if I had a rocket-launcher some sonofabitch would die.

Consider then, how rare the words ‘Go Sens Go’ are for me to say. I can tell you this for sure, I have said it less times than say, 'hey, hand me that Ronnie Milsap cassette', and certainly less times than, “Wow, that’s a beautiful cock” as I have barely said that before. (Remember I do know Greener) Even writing the words, ‘Go Sens Go,’ burn my fingertips a little. But bare with me. I hate Cory Clouston like he was some sort of fissure on my anus ...you know that - but his arrival and the sudden sense of hope these kleenex breakfast's suddenly have for each other makes my heart sing. You know why? Cos hope can really fuck with you.
And my hope is that their hope makes them believe. Cos belief is Bonnie to Hope's Clyde, and the two them can make you stupid. They can make you think that you can take a run at 8th and that you are a Cinderella team for more than Daniel Alfredson and his admiration of petticoats and glass pumps.
Hope and belief will make them drop down the draft, or, I am salivating as I write this, even trade it away for even more of their future for say Niklas Bakstrom.
Hope and belief are what will make them hold onto quasi-gunt Jason Spezza instead trading him. Cos at a time when Mathieu Schneider goes for a 2nd and a 3rd (I don't care how conditional) - everybody's stakes go up. (Anybody hear a 1st for Kubina?)) Jason Spezza, no matter how shitty his D is or how much he will go against the cap next year would be a huge trade. And the sens could potentially take a giant step toward a re-build with it. But hope can make you think otherwise.

And the fans? When they have hope and they have belief, they add in prayer and prayer riding shotgun is whats going to make those ass-munching half-humans get exactly what they deserve. And I want every last one of them to feel it. The players, the coach, the city, the area code. I want it to sting. I want it to sting real bad.

ps. Anyone else notice that the GM for the Sens has a wicked bad speech impediment?

pss. Note to Mike 'Crazy Eye' Fisher...when your girlfriend hides in terror of being spotted associated with you, perhaps its time to move on.

Hartsburg Leaves Ottawa, Can Again Hold Head Up

Only a few things were going to get me to come out of semi-retirement and write a HS/HS post - these orphans aren't going to feed themselves. One of them was that I just couldn't take having a goddamn Oilers logo staring out from the top of the page any more, and another was anything to do with the ongoing humiliation of worst team EVER: the Ottawa Senators.

The firing of Craig Hartsburg, which I predicted in picture form, here, has added another member to an ever growing group tainted by that gutless bunch of creeps. Others include:

• Hockey fans
• The hockey world
  
• Seniors
• The arts
• Bipeds

The Senators have now had 4 coaches since the 2007 Final. Ottawa is where coaches go to die, along with pride, guts, and good looking uniforms. In spite of this, owner Eugene Melnyk refuses to do the only sane thing the owner of the Senators should do - well, besides committing Seppuku for bringing shame and dishonor to his family - which is break up that smug collection of win-nothings.

Melnyk, seen here protecting his superstar #1 line, still believes the hysterical press his litter received from every hockey journalist in Canada from 1997 to 2007, who said they'd win any number of Cups. He still can't see that the only thing those guys will ever win is a Blue Ribbon at the State Fair.

Hartsburg, who before this mess had a coaching resume that had the word "awesome" on it, paid the price for Melnyk's blindness. He is now free to leave Ottawa, and pick up the pieces of his career in a much, much better city. Like Chernobyl.

YOUR KISS IS ON MY LIST...

"Ales is probably the smoothest player in the league today when he's got the puck...when he's stickhandling, nobody's close. You had Gretzky here, now you've got this guy."

- Joe Sakic on Ales Hemsky

Normally I don't put much stock in comments from a guy who maimed himself in a one man snowblower accident, but I'll cut Joey some slack. Plus, he's right. You see, this is Ales Hemsky, he plays for my team. You wish he played for your team. 

He's just different. It's the way he moves - the composure, self-assuredness, and that rare dynamic quality that brings an expectation that something is going to happen every time he touches the puck. But it's more than that.

You hear a lot of broadcasters or fans say a player is "a joy to watch." Usually that's applied to a guy who scores a lot of goals or does things at a high level, without regard to the WAY they do it. Ales Hemsky is a joy to watch aesthetically. If Hemsky never scored a goal - and believe me, there used to be many nights when you thought he was intentionally trying not to - he would still be worth watching. There's a rhythm to his game, a fluidity of motion, that's unlike anyone else in hockey. Nearly every Hemsky goal, even a wrist shot from the slot, is "highlight reel" quality, because of the buildup to it and the grace with which he does it. I'll admit it, I've thought about what his lips would feel like, pressed against mine. Don't judge me.

For all you non-Oiler fans, if I could compare Hemsky to another player it would be Johan Cruijff. You know, the great Dutch footballer of the 1970's? (At this point, Greener is fuming, because not only am I not waxing poetic about him, I'm now talking about football...and not calling it soccer). 

Cruijff was the most elegant of athletes, a near perfect blend of speed, quickness, balance and agility, complimented by a limitless footballing I.Q. The great Rudolf Nureyev was fascinated by his movements and loved to watch videos of Cruijff playing. Nureyev's assistant once hypothesized that it was because Nureyev thought Cruijff would be a better dancer than the legend himself. Cruijff and Hemsky share that same balletic quality. They almost look out of place playing a sport.

With Hemsky it's those three crossovers in the neutral zone gearing up to top speed, the shoulder drop to freeze the d-man, the half push-off (in lieu of a full stride) that kicks him clear when turning the corner, and his puck control in traffic while under pressure. Put it all in one package with innate hockey sense, vision, and fearlessness, and you have a very special player.

Hemsky used to be a "potential" guy, the prettiest 15 goal, 70 point scorer in the league. This year he's taken his game to a new level and become the unquestioned leader of this team. It's not just aesthetics anymore. In the next four years (the time Hemsky has remaining on his current contract), Ales Hemsky's play will determine the success of the Oilers. If Shawn Horcoff and Dustin Penner live up to their fat contracts it will be because of Ales Hemsky. If the Oilers are going to win a Stanley Cup, it will likely come during that period as Hemsky begins his prime and graduates to elite status.

Others may be better, but no one is better to watch.

STAR POWER

As I was heading out to lunch yesterday, I received a barrage of e-mails on my phone from the Edmonton Oilers Hockey Club. The headlines to the various messages went something like this:

KEVIN LOWE CURES CANCER!

REXALL PLACE TO OFFER FREE BEER!

Ales Hemsky placed on IR

DARYL KATZ BUYS, FOLDS CALGARY FLAMES!

Whoa, whoa, whoa...what was that? I haven't seen a lead buried like that since the day after 9/11 when Sean Hannity asked George Bush, "What happens to the goat?"

In case you haven't noticed, Ales Hemsky is kind of important to this hockey team. Truth be told, he's too important. So what began as a "mild concussion" (whatever that is) and a day-to-day status, has landed the Oilers best player on the injured reserve list. It's just like brain trauma to not give a shit about my needs.

The Oilers are 2-4 since Hemsky's injury. In this stretch of the schedule heavily-laden with home games, they were supposed to be solidifying a playoff spot. Instead, they've been spinning their wheels and still find themselves amongst a throng of tightly bunched teams outside the top eight.

His injury casts a bright light on the lack of reliable scoring throughout the lineup. Without his playmaking, his usual linemates (Horcoff and Penner) simply aren't as effective, and the likes of Cole, Cogliano, Gagner and Nilsson see tougher defensive match-ups. Few, if any, teams are as reliant on one player for its offense as the Oilers are.

Since the day he traded Chris Pronger, Kevin Lowe has been on the prowl for another superstar, namely an elite offensive player, and it's starting to become clear why. While Hemsky is on the cusp of attaining elite status himself, he needs help. There are many armchair GM's who wiped their brow in relief and questioned Lowe's judgement in trying to overpay for Marian Hossa last summer. How 'bout now? "We would've had to dismantle the entire roster to pay Hossa!!!" Really? Like Dustin Penner and Robert Nilsson? Oooooh, ouch! I'll give you two hands to count the players the Oilers wouldn't trade for Marian Hossa, and I'll bet you don't get past three fingers. But hey, let's keep yearning to acquire Mike Sillinger, lament the loss of Curtis Glencross, and devise lame trade scenarios that can *fingers crossed* land us Antoine Vermette!

The Oilers lack that 1-2 punch that most true Cup contenders have. That 1-2 punch that, unless you have an elite goaltender, most Cup contenders HAVE to have. Simply put, not only does having another offensive star insulate you from injury to one of them, you're going to win more hockey games. How so? It's just a case of logic and mathematics. First liners play more than second liners who play more than third liners and so on...because they're BETTER players. Is there a worse hockey philosophy than the one that says "we're gonna roll four lines"? There's only 60 minutes in a hockey game. If the best players are playing 20+ minutes (roughly a third of the game) doesn't it stand to reason that the team with the better players on the ice for the most amount of time is going to win on most nights?

The Oilers need some additional star power, and if some of the names currently circulating in the rumor mill (Lecavalier, Kovalchuk, etc.) hit the trade market you can bet the Oilers will be making that call. If not, you can be sure that Katz, Lowe, and Tambellini will be pulling out all the stops again this summer to make another run at the likes of Hossa and Gaborik. Will they land one? Who knows, but watching these Hemsky-less Oilers over the last six games has made me realize they're right for trying.

Oiler fans are among the most knowledgeable and passionate in the game. Because of that they sometimes have a difficult time accepting that Kevin Lowe might know a little more about hockey than they do. Maybe this one time we should trust his plan and vision for this team. I mean the guy just cured cancer!

Hypocrisy 1, Leafs 0

It takes a big man to say a bunch of meaningful things in front of a ton of reporters running devices like cameras and microphones, and then, six months later, do EXACTLY the opposite. How big? Oh, about 6'5, 231 lbs.

Mats Sundin leapt straight into the race for the Stanley Cup by playing his first game last night with the Vancouver Canucks. A team that features... uh... that guy... and, um... those dudes with the goatee's... oh, and Kyle Wellwood! Hmm, with the exception of the (injured) Roberto Luongo, sounds a lot like last years' Leafs; the team he left.

Sundin was always a good politician - saying only what was necessary to say, in polite, flat tones - and like every successful politician, he knows what to say to get all the suckers out there to support him, in spite of the fact that he was made by an elderly woodcarver and hangs out with an sentient cricket.

Don't get me wrong. Posts like this one aren't howling because Sundin went and dared sign with a club other than the Leafs. Look, I get it. Sundin had a NTC and had every right to use it. And naturally, any player has the right to sign with whomever he wants upon contract expiration; that's why contracts aren't for life. The problem with Sundin are the sweetums he uttered which millions of us stood behind, even though we knew it was costing the Leafs dearly. The most notable of these bon mots being:

"I have never believed in the concept of a rental player. It is my belief that winning the Stanley Cup is the greatest thing you can achieve in hockey but for me, in order to appreciate it you have to have been part of the entire journey and that means October through June. I hope everyone will understand and respect my decision."

Well, we sure did then. We respected this man's desire to stay a Leaf. Most of us (ok, I) applauded him for wanting to stay and fight it out in a Toronto sweater, when a lot of lesser players would have headed to San Jose, or, (gasp!) Montreal.

But he didn't. He stayed, denied the Leafs an astonishing bounty of picks and players a trade would have brung, then he fucked around over-fishing Lake Blörk Blörk until he got bored and decided to rejoin the NHL but not from October through June. More like January till whenever the Canucks get knocked out of the first round. Yup, that's meaningful.

PLAN B

Oilers 3, Islanders 2

One of Craig MacTavish's favorite lines used to be "never critique a win." I'm assuming that's because critiquing the losses got so monotonous. Well, last night the Oilers got away with one against the league doormats, the New York Islanders, who were without Doug Weight and John Tavares. It was a win that needs critiquing: "Two thumbs down. If you fast-forward through one Oiler win this year, make it this one." It was ugly...but maybe that's a good thing.

In the last month, the Oilers have watched the Florida Panthers AHL affiliate shut them out on home ice, and lost to a gutless Ottawa team that was winless in 12 consecutive road games. Against the leagues worst team, also riding a 12 game road winless streak, the Oilers were down 2-0 at the end of the first, thanks to more sloppy play and their continued refusal to get dirty. But they got bailed out by their fourth line (Brodziak, Stortini and Strudwick), who gave the rest of the team a template for how to play when things aren't going your way. They won battles, simplified the game, threw pucks to the net and got two garbage goals because of it. Cogliano got the game winner in similar fashion, hopefully suggesting that the message was received by the rest of the team.

The problem with the Oilers, on most nights, is they don't have a Plan B (Note: Plan A is to skate around making drop passes and one arm dekes in the neutral zone, while avoiding as much physical contact as humanly possible). You have to be able to win a game in more than one way. When they don't score on the rush they seldom revert to a simple game that requires them to compete in the tough areas of the ice.

PLAN A:

This was a team that boasted about its glutton of top six forwards, yet they sit 9th in the Western Conference in Goals For and 19th overall. Why? Because they have no consistent fallback game. With the games only getting tougher as the playoffs draw closer, this team's character will be severely tested if the roster remains as is. I don't wanna say the Oilers are soft, but they just called-up this guy from Springfield.

If you're going to have guys like Gagner, Cogliano, Nilsson, Brule, Schremp and Reddox on the roster, you need to create space with some physical presence. It's no accident that Gagner's game has picked up since being paired with the net crashing Erik Cole.

This team has plenty of parts on it's shopping list, but another scorer who will get to the ugly areas should be a high priority. Mike Knuble? Nathan Horton? Yes, please.

KEEP READING IF YOU LIKE CREAM IN YOUR JEANS

The truth is, I'd rather take a hot one in the grapes than write an article about Mats Sundin. Quite frankly that's one of the reason's I haven't been appearing as much here on HS/HS. I'm sorry if you think I'm avoiding you.
I could also make excuses about how busy I am or tell you that at this very moment I am infected with something, that when expectorated, looks like it was designed by H.R Geiger. And that when you spend some of your day coughing so hard you wonder if you'll die, wanting to compare Ian White's moustache to that of a pederast suddenly takes a backseat.

I'm on various pills and unguents.

HI, I'M REALLY REALLY SICK...HOW ARE YOU TODAY?

I don't know much, but I know that urine is not supposed to be the colour of Mexican crockery.

Also; tis the season, and this one, especially as a parent, has a way of robbing, not only your money, but your time. A few days after Christmas I found myself weeping at the realization that it was almost 2009 and that I had just spent 45 minutes trying to find parking.
YOU GOTTA KNOW WHEN TO HOLD 'EM, KNOW WHEN TO FOLD 'EM, KNOW WHEN TO WALK AWAY, KNOW WHEN TO RUN
The truth is I haven't seen a Leafs game in weeks. Missing even the Kings game where our very own rink bunnies 'Greener and Moose' made their appearance. Proving, once again, that like Transformers, there was more than meets the eye.
I was kind of hoping Greener would have tackled the Sundin "issue" in that way he has; concise, funny and relevant. With a visual joke only slightly less funny that I would do. Something like this.He would have something that made us shake our heads and think, hey - I never thought of it like that.
Of course since I have the relevant timing of a pre-mature ejaculator, I'm sure by the time you are reading this, Mats will already have made his triumphant return and ratched out his groin. Or maybe I am so bogged down in the mists of a Nyquil high that it's already happened and I just spooged on your thigh.
Either way, everyone knows its now or never for the Canucks and I'm thinking Antropov for Hodgson sounds about right.

And the less said about Avery the better: although I will say this. Sean Avery is so classless that he asks Joey Buttafuoco to tie his tie. Who in himself is so terrible that he was once portrayed by Jack Scalia.

I feel lightheaded.

IT'S BROKEN. FIX IT.

Part 1 of our 435 part series: "Better Know What's Wrong With The Edmonton Oilers"

The Edmonton Oilers like to play hard to get. But I get it. Sure they'll tease you with the odd two or three game winning streak, only to be inevitably followed by a two or three game losing streak. I'm not fooled anymore. They are a decidedly average hockey team. The larger problem is that they've tricked management into believing that a break-through is imminent, which only delays what truly needs to be done to fix this team.

The Oilers have been cut a lot of slack this year, by fans, media, and to a greater extent, by their two-headed GM. Sophomore slumps, lack of confidence, tough schedule...all excuses. About the only person who hasn't accepted their mediocrity is Craig MacTavish, and yet everyone is calling for HIS head? Weird.

What ails this team has little to do with coaching and a lot to do with the composition of the roster. It's flawed and littered with holes, among them: terrible penalty killing, inability to win faceoffs, and a lack of grit and physical play. We're 36 games into the season, it's time to accept that this team is what it is, and right now that's a non-playoff team. At a certain point "slumps," "poor confidence," and "bad breaks" are states of reality, not transient periods of time. Did I just get all deep on you? Every time they look like they're about to turn a corner, they fall back into...well, being the team they really are. That's because asking a bunch of small skill players to play outside their natural comfort zone (i.e. gritty, more physical) is not a sustainable practice. At some point they will revert back to what they know - their natural style. After all, that's what got them to this point. They're being asked to change their stripes to compensate for the deficiencies of the roster, and that falls on the GM. It's time to change the makeup of this group. If they're serious about making the playoffs, waiting another 15-20 games will be too late.

The other day I was looking at the Oilers depth chart, and I thought to myself, "Boy this team could really use a healthy J.F. Jacques." Let me tell you something, that scares the shit out of J.F. Jacques, not to mention me. I've reached THAT level of exasperation and desperation with this team.

I received an e-mail this morning from a journalist in Edmonton with a couple of Oiler -related trade rumors. I should probably clarify that by "journalist," I mean Washingtron. Some of you may remember him as a writer for this blog, and by "some of you," I mean Washingtron. It went as follows:

Hey man, here are the rumblings from around here... one of which, the second, is from a reputable lawyer who hangs with agents...

1 - Visnovsky for Spezza
2 - Gilbert and Horcoff for Kovalchuk

Thoughts?

First off, it should be said that Washingtron does run in a pretty connected circle. I mean, if you know another Oiler blogger who used to play G.I Joe with Zach Pocklington, speak up. I'm not making any of this up, because 1) the Internet isn't big enough for TWO fake rumor sites, and 2) does this blog really need LESS legitimacy?

My thoughts? Neither of those trades fix what's wrong with the Oilers, especially the Kovalchuk deal. But, Kevin Lowe is so fixated on bringing a superstar to Edmonton, I could actually see that one happening. Yes, the Oilers could certainly use another legitimate front-line scorer (so could 29 other teams), but the truth is the Oilers would be a playoff team if they could simply win more faceoffs and not give up a power play goal every night.

Faceoffs: There are only 50 or so guys in the NHL that are over 50% in the faceoff circle, so finding them isn't as easy as it sounds. Back in September I got into a little discussion about acquiring a third line faceoff guy, and threw out Radek Bonk's name. Well, look who's sitting atop the league with a Yanic Perrault-vian 63% win rate. Sure he has flaws, but anybody you're acquiring to fill that role has flaws, otherwise they'd be first line centers. Some other guys that can probably be had? Antoine Vermette (62%) would be a good fit. Kamil Kreps (53%) in Florida is a good young defensive forward. For a twist, how about Jussi Jokinen in Tampa? He's 53% with over 450 draws taken, and given that he's played the wing for large stretches of his career, you could stick him on the wing with the faceoff-inept Cogliano and have him take draws, without creating a log-jam down the middle. He just cleared waivers so he'd likely be available for near nothing.

Penalty Killing: How has one of the leagues best penalty killing teams each of the two previous years become almost automatic to relinquish a big PP goal every night? It's laughable. Tangent: How the fuck are the Maple Leafs and Thrashers worse than the Oilers? Sure winning a defensive zone faceoff would help, but that's just part of it. I went to the Kings-Blue Jackets game on Monday, and I was amazed at how many shots the Blue Jackets blocked on the PK, and I don't mean guys throwing themselves recklessly all around the zone. I mean being aggressive, getting sticks and legs into lanes, defenseman fronting shots before they got to the goaltender. This was from the 15th ranked unit in the league! On most nights, that aggressiveness and willingness is missing from the Oilers. Given that the Oilers have been so good in years past, you'd think that's coachable. If not, the only explanation for the sudden decline is the loss of personnel (Jarrett Stoll, Marty Reasoner, Matt Greene) and if that's the case, they need replacing.

It's time to make a deal. Steve Tambellini has yet to put his stamp on this team, and there's no better (see: more necessary) time than now. The next time I log on to oilers.nhl.com I don't want to see anymore of Crystal Leriger (with clothes on), or Ladislav Smid playing roving reporter, or Erik Cole sharing story time with the kids. I want a fucking deal. 

I get it...now just fix it.

SOMETIMES AN ASSHOLE IS JUST AN ASSHOLE

Save for some brief comments during our most recent podcast, I've ignored the Sean Avery issue, mostly by design. I've had to tread lightly on the topic because, as you may recall, after I wrote this Greener suspended ME for three weeks.

I don't have an opinion about what he did, or what his punishment should have been. Who cares? If anything, he should be suspended for that shitty delivery of an obviously pre-rehearsed joke. I mean, why wasn't Jere Lehtinen rehearsing lines with him before hand? Jerk.

But now that all the hearings are over and the punishments have been handed down, the most interesting aspect of all this is what becomes of Sean Avery's career? Will he ever play hockey again? Almost certainly. But there's reason to believe he may never be worth another big contract, or even the price of admission for the curious sideshow seekers. Why? Because a pre-condition of Sean Avery's return is that he no longer be Sean Avery. In agreeing to go to counseling for anger management, Avery made a concession to save his job, but it might just cost him his career.

In a recent article Avery spoke of the on-ice abuse he has taken for his interest in fashion. Big fucking deal. In a game where mental warfare can be a real tool, Sean Avery, and his therapy, have now given the other guy the upper hand. What do you think is gonna happen the first time he saunters up to Dion Phaneuf at a face-off?

Avery: "Hey Dion, how does my cum taste?"

Phaneuf: "Good, Sean...but how does that make you feel?"

Game over. How can a guy like that get under your skin, when you've got that ammo in your gun. I don't care how dumb hockey players are, those comebacks write themselves. Let me tell you something, if it were me, the first time I lined-up next to Avery I'd have a fucking Rorschach drawing stuffed under my jersey.

Rachel Hunter?

You see, Avery has made his living with pre-meditated trash talk that strikes at other players most vulnerable and personal points. Now the tables have turned. In the fallout created from Avery taking his act off-ice, he effectively bargained away his competitive advantage. The one thing that made Sean Avery a difference maker.

Now you can argue, that Avery doesn't have to change on the ice, so long as he keeps his mouth shut off it. The NHL has never criminalized trash talking, and Avery's past transgressions in that area have gone largely unpunished. Furthermore, you can argue that Avery will probably never embrace, or take seriously, the anger management part of his "punishment". He probably sees it as a means to an end, a necessary evil to put up with until he gets back to the NHL. Surely there's a desperate team (see: Tampa Bay Lightning) with a contract and a wink-wink, nod-nod agreement for him, right? But that's missing the point. Without his "edge" Sean Avery is just a slightly above average NHL hockey player. Certainly not a $4 million-per-year hockey player.

Sean Avery has no desire to win anything. A game, a Stanley Cup, even his teammates respect. He draws his satisfaction from being, as he puts it, the villain. His antics are the product of needing to fulfill a personal desire for attention. In the past, his teams got a residual benefit from his shtick when he got opposing players off their game. But now it's certainly debatable as to whether he can even do that anymore.

But hey, don't cry for Sean Avery. Even if his hockey career never returns him to the level of prosperity he once enjoyed, he's pretty savvy. He'll find a way to turn this into a second career.

I know we here at HS/HS were excited when his agent contacted us. You see, we've been longing to tap into the lucrative adult entertainment market, and with Sean out of work for a while, we figured this was the perfect opportunity. We're pleased to announce the release of HS/HS's first...cumming of age film.

It's here just in time for Christmas, and it makes a great "stocking stuffer." What, too much?

I'M NOT FAT, IT'S GLANDULAR

NHL Trade Deadline Countdown; 75 days, 20 hours, 30 minutes, 18 seconds.

All Jeremy Williams Does Is Score: Leafs Sure to Get Rid of Him

In regards to Toronto's recent success at the NHL draft, history will have to work extra hard to smile upon the Leafs. I'm not saying that the "cupboard is bare" analogy is completely appropriate, but I will mention that under "Career Highlights", the Leafs draft day C.V. lists such illuminati as Kris Vernarsky, Karel Pilar and everybody's favorite (C? LW? RW? D?) Nicolas Corbeil.

Well, perhaps the ol' TML resume just got some much needed padding from Glenavon, Saskatchewan called Jeremy Williams.

Glenavon, with a population of 104- roughly the number of people in Ottawa who'll show up next year to watch the Senators- released young Williams in 2003 to the waiting hands of an organization which knows how to nurture and develop its homegrown talent. Wait, no. What I meant to say was an organization that knows how to trade its homegrown talent for Yanic Perreault.

So all Jeremy Williams does is score and look great in a Leafs uniform, two things of which only the former is really hard. He's taken 7 shots with the Leafs this season, and scored on 3 of them. For those of us out there who're obsessive compulsive, and really, who isn't, it breaks down like this:

To contrast and compare those numbers: If say, I were on the Leafs, my call up stat would look something like this:

Now, in all seriousness, which of us would YOU send down?!

~~~

Just a reminder for you to check out our newest podcast: HS/HS Radio 7, found conveniently one post below us. Moose worked really hard on this one, and by that, I mean he showed up at my house. Hey! Thanks for listening!

HS/HS Radio 7! Number, No Longer Lucky

I once sent away for a VHS dub to be made of a Japanese version of "Planet of the Apes". I threw caution to the wind (and money down the internet), at some dubbing house in the Far East, with dreams of actors in pathetic gorilla suits driving Cadillac's, supported by poorly executed voice acting. Four months later a package came to my door looking like it'd been wrapped and addressed by those same simians. I excitedly opened it up, and popped it in. Yes, everything I'd lousily hoped for in this lousy movie was there...along with the internal tracking error in the dubbing process that caused the film to roll over on my screen once every ten seconds.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, presenting HS/HS Radio 7. Or, as you will come to know it, "The podcast those apes made that featured poor voice acting and rolled over every 10 seconds after I waited for 4 months!"

Click this space to hear the amazing advancements being made in primate communications. Barring that, then to listen to a hockey podcast.

Truth be known, I've been sitting here the whole time, waiting patiently every week for Moose to show up so we could record. I only just recently found out that he isn't just a lazy asshole, carelessly squandering the appreciation and goodwill of all of our readers. No. Moose has actually been on the television talk show circuit, giving hope and support to others with his affliction:

Brave, yes. But where would he be without the love and support of viewers like you?

HE SCORE HE SHOOTS PODCAST'S PRESENTS: PODCAST 7; ASK MOOSE AND GREENER 2: GREENER v MOOSE; TWO MEN: ONE MICROPHONE; ALL HOCKEY

THE WEEK IN REVIEW: OILERS, LEAFS, BLOGOSPHERE ALL WIN!

That 5.5 magnitude tremor California residents felt on Friday night? That was me logging on to the HS/HS dashboard. I’m not gonna get into the details of my prolonged sabbatical, so let’s just say that I’m superstitious. When the Oilers went 4-0 to start the season, I hadn't written for three weeks, so I thought “fuck it,” a Stanley Cup is more important than the personal glory I get from this blog (in this movie “Glory” is played by Greener bitching me out for not writing). Unfortunately, on the way to an 82-0 season I figured out that superstition is a nebulous creature on the same level as religion: full of contradictions, top-heavy on blind faith, with a dash of God complex thrown in. So the Oilers actually play better when I’m sitting on the MIDDLE cushion of the couch? Interesting. Is it chicken soft tacos that snap a losing streak? At any rate, thanks to the Oilers modest three game winning streak, I’ve decided to do away with superstitions and start writing again. Wait, does that mean not being superstitious is my new superstition? Fuck.

GREENER TO MOOSE: "YOU'RE THE GREATEST FRIEND EVER."
Monday, December 1st - Leafs 3, Kings 1

Way back when Tomas Kaberle wasn’t being “McCabed” by the Toronto media, fans, and management alike, the Leafs paid a visit to the local arena to take on the Kings. Like any credible hockey journalist, I was there to cover it for HS/HS. Greener came along to destroy that credibility and generally make a complete ass out of himself. Here’s some of the highlights:

Warm-Ups

- I arrive at the rink to find Greener shouting things like “I love you, Fingy!” and waxing poetic about a time when Jason Blake was actually a man. Then suddenly, as Kaberle skates by, Greener becomes THAT guy. Yup, bang-on-glass-guy. I wish I could explain it, but there’s some involuntary bodily reflex, triggered by a hockey player skating by, that prompts normal, intelligent, composed human beings to want to punch a pain of Plexiglass. Come to think of it, Greener is none of those things, so never mind.

First Period

- We settle into our seats in Row 6, behind the Leafs net, 'cos that's how we roll at HS/HS. Toskala looks sharp and ready to go.

Greener: “Here we go boys!”

Moose: “They need to get off to a good...” 1-0 Kings.

Greener: “We’re outta here.”

Second Period

- There wasn’t much to get excited about, so Greener and Jeff Finger decide to rally the troops with a fight. Finger’s scrap with Derek Armstrong unleashes the inner-Domi in Greener who serenades sections 114 and 115 with some “you went down” hand gestures, then calls for the championship belt. That bit of lunacy apparently catches the attention of Leafs TV reporter Paul Hendrick, who is standing a few feet to our right.

- After a big Leafs penalty kill to end the period, Hendrick pulls Greener aside to tell us to watch how hard the Leafs will come out to begin the 3rd period.

- The Leafs pop two quick ones to begin the 3rd, which prompts Hendrick to turn to us and mouth, “I told you!” Simultaneously, he is met with nods and “you-the-man” finger points from us. We agree to meet for hookers and blow after the game.

- Greener’s cell phone rings with a call from an unknown Toronto number. HS/HS has been unmasked! It’s his cousin telling him we are on Leafs TV. I’m not going to tell you at what point during the period this occurs, but needless to say, I’m the good looking one.

- The Leafs add an empty net goal for a satisfying 3-1 win.

Post-Game

- While waiting for some friends out on the concourse, Greener spots a girl with a hand-knitted Leafs scarf, which he compliments her on. Upon closer inspection, he realizes it’s an homage-to-Kyle Wellwood scarf. He then uses it to wipe the gushing bile from his mouth.

- Greener thanks me profusely for the tickets, which I plan to hold over his head at every possible chance. “Remember when I bought you those Leafs tickets?” has a shelf-life of at least 2-3 years.

MOOSE TO CHILD: "YOU'RE DEAD!"

Friday, December 5th - Oilers 5, Kings 4 (SO).

The Edmonton Oilers strolled into town on Friday, looking like a team beginning to pull itself out of a long funk. Guys not named 'Hemsky' have finally started to find their game (Gilbert, Cogliano, Horcoff, Penner, Pouliot) and they even packed a little Rob Schremp to bring with them on the trip. This just in folks, Rob Schremp finally looks like an NHL hockey player. It’s been a Bataan-like road for Schremp’s game to evolve, but it lo oks like he’s close to sticking in the show.

Warm-Ups

- Greener is in fine form, yammering on about how the “ridiculously handsome” Sheldon Souray is totally eyeing him every time he skates by (he was looking at me).

- After warm-ups Greener offers to “repay” me for the hockey tickets by buying me a fucking Happy Meal. Never has a meal been more inappropriately named, as Greener does his best Ralph Furley imitation when they tell him it’ll be $22 for the two of us. Breathe, Greener, breathe.

- Back at our seats, a little small talk with broadcasting legend, Gene Principe, is interrupted by some 12 year-old kid with a pituitary problem who begins to taunt me with strange facial and hand gestures. I smile and pat him on the back of his 'Gretzky' Kings jersey. After all, the kid is just having fun.

First Period

- The Oil get off to a great start against something called Erik Ersberg. I think the Kings breed a clone army of bad goaltenders in a lab underneath Staples Center, and trot a new one out under a different name every so often.

- I look over at the young kid to see he's still taunting me despite his team taking an infernal ass beating. You gotta admire that.

- Apparently news has leaked that HS/HS is in the house again, as Greener and I make our second national television appearance in 5 days. This time on a Fox Sports affiliate, showing us celebrating following an Oiler goal. Regrettably, we did not make it on Kiss-Cam.

3-0 Oilers after one.

Second Period

- Ersberg is replaced by #432887, also known as “Jason LaBarbera”.

- Apparently some faulty wiring has caused this one to go rogue, because "LaBarbera" plays like Patrick Roy, and the Kings storm the Oilers net for much of the period to take a 4-3 lead.

- You ever notice when home fans notice the enemy among them, they cheer a bit louder and more directionally? Yeah, let’s just say the witty barbs were coming fast and furious. I mean seriously, “Alice” Hemsky = hilarious. Everyone knows his name is Ales.

- Out on the concourse, the glandular freak, buoyed by his teams 4-3 lead, has taken to taunting me again. This time, I make a throat slitting motion and say “You’re dead.” He looks genuinely scared. He doesn’t know I’m kidding. Which of course I am. I carry around a garrote, not a blade. So it would be more of a strangling motion, than slitting.

Third Period

- Hemsky takes charge and proceeds to embarrass a couple of Kings defencemen, leading to a Dustin Penner tap-in goal. 4-4 tie.

- Shootout

With the shootout tied at 1-1, Hemsky is the final shooter. A beautiful deke and high backhand makes LaBarbera look silly, and my mouth run. I firmly suggest that this would be a good time for everyone in the building to return to their place of residence, as “Alice” has just scored the game winner. Several verbal daggers are thrown my way, but all ends well and the child lives.

It's been fun. As long as this lucky "posting" thing works out, I'll be back.

Hooray for 2008: Obama Wins, Leafs Come to L.A.

There are those critics of Gary Bettman out there who criticize, among other things, his administration, his policies, his beliefs, his hair, his voice, and his height. I am one of them. But one thing's for certain with with our Gare, is that he believes that NHL hockey should be played anywhere you can find a palm tree. And since I live a stubby arms length away from one (or ten), that means that tonight, I will be sitting the distance of one dreamy thought balloon filled with "sighs" away from the Toronto Maple Leafs.

This is becoming a not uncommon occurrence as it also happened last year, but one I will never get used to. Last years effort was a stellar one, and not at all marred by the fact that the Leafs goalie at the time, someone named "A. Raycroft" let in 4 of the softest goals since any scored by Ryan O'Byrne. OK, that part was a phenomenal drag, but the feeling of being so far from your home rink and seeing 10,000 other people wearing Leafs sweaters more than made up for it. There's an amazing sense of camaraderie to that, and as I said last year:

When grown men are giving smiling acknowledgment to each other in the bathroom, you know it's either because you each have a Leafs jersey on, or you're both cruising for anonymous gay sex. This time, it was the former.

Yes, I did just quote myself, but only because I couldn't think of anything funnier. Or truer.

Hockey in L.A. is a fantastic experience, and one that I've invited lots of you to come out and partake in with me. Out here, they really make a hockey game an adventure for the whole family. Here's a snapshot I took at Staples Center last year:

Ha ha, don't worry guys, they weren't too cold up there, it's warm here all the time! And speaking of warm, those two sold the best soft pretzels this carb-lover's ever tasted! Thanks ladies!

On a side note, Moose and I spent Sunday afternoon as the podcast guests of the great Kings blog A Queen Among Kings. The Queen herself, Connie- taking time away from turning the world on with her smile- humored us for two hours, nodding patiently while pretending she didn't think she knew way, way more about hockey than us. Did I say us? I meant me. My main contribution was, I set up the mic. Moose's, was that he let us in his house. So check out the newest QaK recording, not to mention the rest that she and her non-sexual partner Marie have made.

So watch the game tonight everybody, and look out for me. I'll be the guy against the glass totally sprung, wearing his bathrobe. Just like last year. I know, I know, boring right? Moose will be with me, trying not to look bored. Scratch that. Looking bored, and telling me again why Brian Burke sucks. While he's doing that, at that very moment, I will be sprung, in my bathrobe, watching the Toronto Maple Leafs! Wish us all luck!

WOW, WHAT A SHOCK

Leave it to the crack staff at He Score, He Shoot, to write about a trade 2 days after it happens. The same night the player coming back in the deal wears the jersey for the first time. Never one to miss an opportunity, next up: He Score/He Shoot Acid Wash Jeans, He Score/He Shoot Cabbagepatch Dolls and right after posting this, the entire editorial staff of HS/HS are in talks to open Iqaliuit's first Delorean dealership.

Keep your fingers crossed.

1.21 Jiggawatts?

In every movie showing a jungle, there's always a scene involving a machete and some heavy undergrowth. A morass so choked that the only way through it is the hack and chop. In much the same way, Fletch and the various Charlie Bergen's that ruin - pardon me- run our team, carved a little more path by getting rid of the 10th and 11th pieces of the former pie. Actually you could say that #'s 8 and 10 got us 12.
And since we're already talking numbers you could also say that #17 and #24 garnered us #148.

Call me cynical, but does this seem like a Jonathon Tavares move on the part of the Blues?

I guess the truth is that I never saw it coming. And...but...uh....I don't want to say anything...so I'm whispering when I say this, but is it just me, or has Trader Cliff done it again? It's not quite as horrific as the ass-humping he gave Risebrough, but not bad.

The question is - why isn't Brian "Mr. Brian Burke" Burke making these moves?

It's hard to believe that Steen, a player in the best deal that never happened (Kaberle/Steen for Pronger ) was once that highly regarded. I wouldn't say he was a complete bust, but as a top 9 forward he was completely expendable. Granted he was a terrific defensive player and incredible in the corners, but his offense, now 3 coaches in, never materialized.
And when you are supposed to be the future of the team and you don't score goals, you kind of become the equivalent of buying a clock radio to listen to music.


In all seriousness I hope that both he and Coli develop into the players they were always projected to be. Hopefully Steen with find the confidence to realize he could be more than a defensive forward. And Carlo...I hope Carlo plays 80 games this and every year for the rest of his career. I hope he beats his psyche that must tell him that every shift may be his last.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN FIRE SALE?

Here is my thinking; Lee Stempniak stays and plays. As a natural right handed shot who's fast, put him on the first line with Antro and Stajan. Bump Poni down.
Or put him on the 2nd line and replace Kulemin.
Or put him with Moore and Blake.

This is exactly the kind of player the Leafs need.

Then comes March 4th.

That's the day I see Stempniak piggybacking Jason Blake all the way to Pearson and off our team.

Or is Stempniak part of a bigger trade yet to happen? (which is what my Spidey sense is saying). If we sign him to an extension, then mark my words he's going to Florida for Bouwmeester (once he signs an extension too).

Which then allows us to bask in the windfall that Kaberle will fetch. Like how about Kaberle + Kulemin + Leafs 1st round 2009 for Kyle Turris + Daniel Carcillo and Coyotes 1st rounder 2009.

Isn't this Brian Burke's job now?

Senators in Last. Hubris Screams: "Gotcha!"

I know there are a lot of you out there who, when hearing the name Bryan McCabe, only conjure up the bad, the bitter. The plummeted stats after a huge payday. The own goal against Buffalo. For those of you, I have some soothing salve to rub over that still sore wound: On Tuesday, McCabe scored two goals in the Panthers 4-3 win over the Lightning. By winning this game, the Panthers rose from the number 15 spot in the Eastern Conference to the 14. In going there, the McCabe led Panthers pulled the chair out from the Ottawa Senators, sending them to their rightful place in a peaceful Universe: 20,000 Leagues Under the Leafs.

These are the standings as we speak. I would love this picture to be one of my photoshops, because if it were, I would be more proud of it than any photo I've ever done. But this is the truth, and as the gays say, I'm positively delighted!

This is an uncommon lesson in schadenfreude for me, and I have to say its been brought out organically in response to years of barnyard squeals by the smuggest, most self-satisfied fan in the entire sports world: The Senators fan. The Sens "fan", a member of the "Sens Army"- a crack unit on par with the Swiss Navy- has been bleating on for the last 10 years or so, with the help of EVERYONE in the hockey press, about how great Ottawa were/are/will always be. It was never a question of if they won the Cup, but when, and how long would be their dynasty? Well, you have to actually win something to be something, and I don't give a good Goddamn how may Presidents Trophies a team wins, if you're a bunch of heartless, rail-blowing assholes, you get exactly as many Cups as you deserve: Fuck all.

The Senators window of opportunity shut, all that remains is for the hot sun of hubris to bleach their bones a pearly skeletal white. Only then can the members of the team be released to do something they're all maybe good at, like perhaps playing in Europe, or sword fighting Sinbad the Sailor.

As their team falls into a pit of its own design, just watch the rats fleeing the ship. Remember, with the exception of their fans under, say, 10 years old, every single one of those people who follow that team was once a rabid fan of another. Incredibly, either Toronto or Montreal, and they all bailed when they built that ugly rink in the middle of a field 20 miles down a two-lane highway out of town. Let's just say that over the course of this and future Ottawa seasons, you'll be seeing a lot of #10 Habs sweaters re-emerging from closets filled with Birkenstocks, Teva's and Jorts.

Bruins 3, Posts 4

There's a scene in every single "Pink Panther" movie, where, to the amazement of everyone, bumbling French detective Inspector Jacques Clouseau actually manages to solve the case he is on, despite having absolutely no actual abilities to do so. In one of the films, his former boss, Inspector Dreyfus, goes completely insane because of Clouseau's diabolical ability to fail upwards. These are great movies to watch, and as is usually the case, there's a parallel between today's NHL, and mid-to-late 70's Hollywood comedies, and its name is Tim Thomas.

On Monday night, late bloomer Thomas- and by late bloomer, I mean he broke into the league in his mid-to-late 70's- did exactly what he does best(?), and that is stymie a better Maple Leafs team by failing upwards enough to get a win. Thomas has that no style-style down so well, he makes the former principle of that school, D. Hasek, look like a mathematician. Tim's goaltending basically breaks down him moving randomly around his crease when he sees the opposing players moving toward him. Then, as they get closer, he falls to the ice until he hears a whistle. And...Oh, what do you know? The puck with the little Leaf on it is in his pads! Somehow he's done it again! Thomas is kind of like those retarded guys who can correctly multiply huge sums in their head, but when you ask them to write their names, they take a crayon and write an "X".

The handsome/multi-dimensional James Duthie wrote a good piece on Thomas at TSN.ca few weeks ago. While somehow restraining himself from insinuating that Thomas is retarded, Duthie writes that because of how Thomas plays, he considers him the most entertaining guy to watch in the NHL. I agree that he is, uh, interesting to watch, but I will stop waaaay short of where Bruins color man and full time homer Andy "The Departed" Brickley goes, which is to fantasy land and back every night. Listen to Brickley, and "Tawmus" is a master of the position, saving the game for Boston each shift. Like last night against the Leafs, when he saved the game for the B's each of the 4 times the Leafs cranked the puck off the post.

Well, the Bruins win over the Leafs 3-2. For Chief Inspector Tim Thomas, another case well closed. Now he can go home and expect to be stalked and attacked by his valet and manservant Cato Fong, admirably played by the nunchuk wielding mongoloid, Zdeno Chara.

OPEN LETTER TO JASON BLAKE

Dear Jason Blake,
I know this seems weird to be writing you. We barely know each other. You are a player on my beloved hockey team and I am a humble fan.

I am the semi-awesome Norte of He Score, He Shoot, and in a lot of ways you and I are connected through the magical Blue Leaf. It could also be said that both you and I make our living because of the team, except that I don't make any money for doing this.

Since you and I haven't actually met and I don't know where you live, it seemed like the next logical step to write.

I have to be honest right off the bat and tell you that if someone were to ask me who I wanted off the team, my answer, quick as you please, would be you Jason Blake; Jason Blake. I'm not just saying that to be mean and I hope you don't mind me being honest, but it's true. If I were trying to be mean, I would be more blunt and say something like you are the perfect set up to the oft-used yet seldom funny punch line, for a bag of pucks.

I hope I don't sound cavalier when I use the word mulligan to describe your first year in a Leaf jersey. Quite frankly, all things considered, you played heroically. Let's not even talk about it....So what if you are the only player Mats Sundin wasn't able to make better? That was last year. This is fresh and new, like hot bread or kittens.

But you know that this is shit or get off the pot time right?. With it being only year 2 of your 5 year, "you're gonna pay me what?" contract, your only way out is gonna be by playing well.

It's money walks and shit talks time Jason Blake, and right now you're pissing pennies.

(Did it just get creepy?)

Now listen, I know that sounds harsh, but Momma can't lie to you, baby.


"Maybe it's not meant for me to be here."

I have to admit I was a little surprised to hear you say that the other day. I kind of felt like saying to you "Pardon me, Jason? What? This isn't about us Jason, this is about you."
And I felt a little miffed at your description of the team as here. Here has a name and runs pretty deep for some of us. But I knew you were just tired from the bag skates and the benchings.

Anyways...

I watched the game in Edmonton and I have to admit it was the first time I couldn't describe your play as Berezin-esque. You played angry and made two great passes. I hope I don't sound ungrateful when I say, do it every game and you'll be worth every penny you're paid. And except for the weird slow motion take down of Lubomir Visnovsky, which looked like watching Figure Skating at the Special Olympics, I was excited by how you played.

Getting benched must be awful, especially with you being so eager to make mathematically impossible shots and the willingness with which you seem to put yourself offside to kill the rush.
Accountability isn't just owning up to the Bangles being your pre-game music, it's about proving you aren't expendable.

Now understand Jason Blake, that you play on my team and if someone fucks with you, they may as well be fucking with me. It's biker gang rules when it comes to our team, and it's from my perfect and beautiful Leaf heart that I tell you that you bug me Jason Blake.

I know my letter just did a button hook to the left but it's true, you bug me. It's not just because you resemble the heavy from the Chevy Chase/Goldie Hawn vehicle "Foul Play". And it's not just that I know, Jason Blake, that you won't ever score 40 goals again or that maybe even reasonably can't score 40 goals again. I don't blame you for that. You and I are the same age and I have to admit, I chose my footwear on how long I have to be bent over to get them on, I can't imagine how crappy your body feels.
What bugs me about you is that you seem to be willing to be the living embodiment of the economic theory of the law of diminishing returns.

I don't blame you Jason for accepting the contract handed to you. No matter how egregious it is, it will forever be a black mark on the record of JFJ, not yours. And to be fair, the same year you were signed, Daniel Briere was signed to a 6 year deal worth 7.5 a year - and without Googling the information - I believe Jason Smith got something similar, so perhaps, all things considered, the Leafs got off easy. The point is, at this point, at some point, you have to realize that you aren't going to score.
How come I can tell you aren't but you can't?

Jason Blake is an asshole for completely the wrong reasons.
Your Sugar Ray Leonard-ness that you display most nights, when you take those shots, bugs me. Because Jason, a scorer who can't score, fight or pass doesn't belong here. And by here I mean the NHL.
Nobody wants you to succeed more than me, the Fan. I just ask, here humbly and honestly to continue to consider the team first, as you did the other night in Edmonton.

I truly believe the assist is ultimately more awesome than the goal.

Good luck in Vancouver and the rest of the season.

See you March 4th.

Sincerely, Norte.

ps. Could you ask Mikhail Grabovski if he got the muffins I sent.

Jason Blake Finds Religion: Converts to Wilsonism

"Spare the Rod, Spoil the Child" is an old proverb which suggests that the only way to get someone small in stature to do what you want, is to give them a firm but loving lesson in discipline. After all, it's for their own good. This oft used maxim sounds great in theory, but always seems to boil down to some over-weight, over-young, over-kidded woman wailing on her 4 year old in public because he was playing with the bread at the Safeway. Usually...

Ron "Cruella De Vil" Wilson tried out that very notion on someone small in stature this week, when he got out the belt and beat Jason Blake back to Moorhead, Minn. for playing with the very same bread. Or actually, for not playing with enough of it.

For some incredible reason, the term "Healthy Scratch" just kind of gets under your skin when you're a former all-star 1.25 seasons out from a 40 goal year for a rotten team, and doesn't Wilson know it. Similar to what he did with M. Stajan, when he basically told him to fuck off and die on the 4th line (or worse), Wilson did just what he always said he would: He'd hold his players accountable for their play, and those who play well would get rewarded. Those who don't, he hands a parasol and a little sign with "YIKES!" written on it, and kicks them over a cliff.

Wilson walks it after he talks it, and aren't we glad for it? Paul Maurice is great at a lot of things as a coach, but kicking fat asses is not one of them. The ridiculous Leaf tenure of future Finnish League star Kyle Wellwood speaks to that. One of the reasons Wilson is getting so much out of this team is because he absolutely insists that you listen to the icy tough-love that comes from his lump-of-coal heart, or, to push the metaphor even further, from a Gibson ES-335

Thursday's game at The ACC...no wait...the...yes, The ACC against Edmonton was the very first time in a Leafs uniform I saw the Jason Blake whom I hated when he was with the Islanders: a mean little prick who I'd pray my beloved Darcy would kick the living Jesus Christ out of. I wanted that because he was dangerous every game the Leafs played against him, and because his absolute lack of melanin gave me an easy go-to physical trait which I deemed he must be punished for. Thursday, he drove the Oilers nuts while they ran all over the ice trying to get him to snap. Snap he did, snapping two-points into the boxscore, pausing only once to try and cripple Lubo Visnovsky.

All this coming in the middle of another hard working, everyone-producing, Leafs effort. A commonplace sorely lacking in Toronto teams of the recent past. As the Leafs build toward the future, this is exactly the kind of identity you need once you re-enter the rarefied air of the Stanley Cup playoffs.

PROFILES IN COURAGE: NORTE

Friends, losers, Leafs fans, lend me your ears. First off let me say, forgive the long absence between posts. To apologize, let me misquote John Lennon in a terrible and self-congratulatory way: life is what happens when you are busy making other blogs.
To show you how important you are to me, acknowledging how neglectful I have been, amd knowing that we are beyond a simple and shitty bouquet of flora, I'm going to tell you something that I have shared with very few people.

Right now between the furor of Howard Berger, the Leafs 3 game losing streak and the fact that tomorrow they play the Habs, I think its a perfect story to tell.

Everything you are about to read is true. You can choose to believe me- which is more fun- or you can chose not to- also cool. I mean hey, some people still wear toupees, so...you know, what are you gonna do?

Of course, if there is some sort of recourse or statute-of-limitations on the crimes I am about to admit to, than let me be the first to say that I am making all of this shit up. Right now as I go along.

It concerns the very last time I ever stepped foot inside Maple Leaf Gardens. Just like you, I consider that shit hallowed. I should also tell you that I have walked on actual consecrated ground, and to me, Maple Leaf Gardens feels the same underfoot. Now granted I was never involved in a moshpit at Machu Picchu as I was while seeing Ministry at the Gardens in 1992. And yes, there are less hookers around the Primeval Beech Forests of the Carpathian than the corner of Church and Jarvis on any given night. And yes unlike the Gardens, the 24 hour breakfast restaurant across the street from the Acropolis doesn't charge for refills. Regardless. Maple Leafs Gardens besides being the Leafs home since the 12th of November 1931, has hosted the Beatles, Elvis, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones (and others on Q107's playlist). In the late 50's, my old man had season Greens. Duran Duran filmed a video there. Ali once fought there. The Who played the very first of their very last concerts there, and to a much less significant way, so did Queensryche.

Within its very walls I saw Rob Ramage wear the C, and Alan Bester in nets. I saw Mats play in a Nordiques jersey, and a game where Tie Domi got 2 goals. And once, I broke up with a girl outside of it instead of being forced to see Glass Tiger in concert. I grew up a couple blocks East, in Cabbagetown. MLG is my hood.

Hello...Earth to World Heritage people?

But the last time? I was there in an officious manner. Through an intricate web of lies that I had fabricated with the aide of a friend on the inside, whom we'll call "Mark", I somehow got the job of official photographer for a group of retired NHL players and Leafs alum taking a tour of Maple Leaf Gardens for the final time. Little did it matter that my knowledge of photography never went beyond the "appropriate" moments, of merriment. This was MLG, and Mark told them I was the next Youseff Karsh.

I was told to arrive at MLG at 6 am (which I did), and as anyone from Toronto can tell you, standing outside at 6 in the morning, in January, particularly on a wind tunnel like that part of Carlton Street, is plain stupid. What's worse was that when they finally did open the doors, (security: a man with a moustache) I was immediately told,that I couldn't bring my Timmy's into the building. So there I was, chugging my scalding coffee and wondering if my fingers were already too frostbitten to take photos, my burnt tongue telling me it didn't even matter.

Then out of nowhere, they started showing up. The oldtimers I was to photograph. I was hoping for Wendel of course, and expecting say, Ian Turnbull, but these old timers were a tad older. They were camera pan through the crowd on Remembrance Day, old. Maybe it was the same overcoats, or ubiquitous glasses, or that they were all the same size, but these guys were all Grandads. These were gentlemen who could've stunt doubled Pierre Burton.

I made them take a step to the right, then to the left, told them to all say "cheese", and took a photo. I would love to tell you who was there. But truthfully out of respect to these great hockey men and because of the douche-baggery I am about to confess to, I feel I shouldn't. Let me tell you this: I was later allowed to listen in on these great men swap stories about fist-fights with Gordie Howe, and how much they really hated Ted Lindsay. One former Leaf defensemen talked of taking a beating from the Hammer. And later, yet another Leaf, this time a Winger, took off his 1966-67 ring, to let me look at it.

BUT I'M NOT A PHOTOGRAPHER

At the same time that this tour was occurring, there was a major motion picture being filmed in Maple Leaf Gardens. I don't want to say which movie, but I will tell you that it was directed by Ron Howard and involved depression era boxing and it's name rhymed with "Ginderalla Nan". I was told by a different cotillion of Security (than Mr. Moustache who told me No to me an my Double Double) who were wearing matching film crew jackets, that I had better not take photos of the boxing ring set up for the movie, (which of course I did) and that all I was allowed to do was basically follow the old guys around and take pictures, of them, as they talked.

At center ice, in a circle like girls at a school dance, the oldies swapped stories and I took photos. Then in the dressing rooms, as they laughed and reminisced, I took photos. Whilst in the hallway talking, I took photos. And it was there that it hit me: the realization that I may never step foot in the Gardens again, certainly not in its current state.
So at some point, while all of us were in the hallway and I began to look at the camera in a way that implied I knew what I was doing and quietly snuck away towards ice level.

Knowing really that it was now or never, my first thought was to get a seat, one of those horrible, tiny little things that I hated sitting on but now coveted like the Ark. But to remove a seat was pointless. I had neither the tools for removal nor the leaden cojones needed to say, "No, no - I came in with this seat."

I ran to the home bench knowing that I had only moments before the collective Security tandem of Mr. Moustache and Film Crew Jacket realized I was no longer on radar. My hand on a stack of Bibles, I jumped the boards. You can think that I only thought of that later but I didn't...I jumped the boards, which was way way harder than I thought. I got to my knees, and with alacrity akin to a panther, began to pry a tile off the floor.*

(*At this point I would like to remind law enforcement types that this is all false.)

I chose the one with the most skate nicks (and that wasn't broken) and with a little help from an issue of Hockey News I had with me, the tile gave way like the Sens in the playoffs. All in one piece, swish. I then went for the tile beside it. You may think I was motivated by greed, I wish I could say I had thought of that (I didn't). The next tile was for my brother. Not to be competitive with him, but he's almost as big a Leafs fan as me. Not quite, but almost.

As the 2nd tile began to give way, and the first tile, hidden inside the Hockey News, I felt pleased with myself, but then suddenly wondered: is this even right to do? Has opportunity blinded my desecration? Did I just scrape Norte Wuz Here on some precious fresco wall?
And then it's almost funny how karma has a way of holding you down and forcibly fucking your face because the 2nd tile, which, up until that point, was gliding like Fred Astaire, suddenly stopped. Instead of moving on to another tile, my fingers getting more and more moist from my fear and hubris, I began to sweet talk it. Quietly. "C'mon baby," I told it, feminizing it in my head. "C'mon..." I said again, rocking it gently. "C'mon babygirl..." I said, getting creepy. "You like that?" I continued, taking it too far.

Then panic came on and I imagined being humiliated in front of men whose names graced the Stanley Cup. And panic riding shotgun is never a good idea. I pulled the tile once more and then again much harder until up it came...except for the final corner, which stayed glued down.

In the end, I stashed the 3/4 tile and the full tile in the Hockey News and jumped back over the boards (not gracefully), making my way back to the Oldtimers, none of whom even realized I was gone.
And now, November 2008, my piece of tile, framed and perfect, hangs on the wall, not 5 feet away from me. I never caught a puck at a game, but feel that my very own piece of MLG is even better. You may say that I stole and I would answer, what's it to you, you goddamn bastard?

Howard Berger: The Bad Writing That Unites Us All

As any and all of you know/repeat to friends/tattoo as your Tramp Stamp, the Leafs are Canada's team. This is one of those inarguable, universal truths which galvanizes each and every one of us to our team. And as any and all of you know, one of the ingredients in the mortar which binds those very bricks, is how much we all detest Howard Berger.

Terrible writer Berger, a flinty-voiced contrarian who spends too much time getting his hair to part perfectly in the center, this week stooped to new, lazy, literary lows, by calling Leafs fans "losers". Why so? Well, just because we happen to love our team every single year, no matter what configuration it takes. Because we will never, ever be accused of being fair-weather, bandwagon jumpers. The kind you will see this season not following the Ottawa Senators. Yes, we really have it coming to us. Thank God the friendless Berger is around with his made up stats, to tell us that it's our fault that the Leafs don't make the playoffs, as he drones on and on about games he and his father saw in 1966 when they wentZZZ-zzzzzz-zzzz...

Well for every (in)action, there is an opposite reaction, and in this case, its name is FireHowardBerger.com. A simple site that is taking the internet by storm, and one which is being lauded by truth seekers all over the world:

"...a site whose time has come..." - B. Geldolf

"...makes Amnesty International look like crap..."-M. Gandhi

And it hasn't stopped there. Even American television pundits not known for opinionating about the business of big time hockey have weighed in on the matter:

Not one to back down from a fight -even though his pants are already down around his kanckles- Berger has responded to the calls for his dismissal, posting on that site an annoyingly smug little piece where he sniffs through his moustache at the very notion of people wanting him fired because he's incredibly bad at his job. It must take a thick skin to be Berger, as 99.9% of all his mail contains some variation on the phrase, "You are the worst thing in Canada".

Please visit FireHowardBerger.com and add your name to the growing throng of losers smart enough to stand against everything Howard "19 Years Without a Promotion" Berger has ever written.

Howard Berger: Still Allowed to Write, Walk the Streets

Dear Most Valuable Losers

Yesterday, continuing a long-standing trend, another Toronto reporter took his shot at Leaf fans. This time it was Howard Berger calling us "losers" but we've seem the same cookie-cutter article before from virtually everyone who covers the team.

Quitre frankly, we've had enough.

As fans, we believe that those most deserving of our praise and our scorn are directly inovlved in the game, whether it's on the ice, in the press box or in the executive corridors. Fans don't pencil in the starting five, make bad trades, or write the headlines of the day and shouldn't be blamed (or praised) for the totals in the wins and loss column.

Hockey may be just a game but it's also a passion. If you're looking for passionate hockey coverage that offers insight and humour and you're sick of being blamed for supporting a team you're passionate about, you have a better option.

It's time to leave the media superstars behind. There's compelling, timely, wide-ranging content waiting just for you online in the Barilkosphere.

Many have found this better way of following the Leafs, but not every Leafs fan has been so lucky. Please send this message to your fellow Leaf fans via e-mail or postings on message boards and let them know that they do have a choice.

We hope you'll join us here in the Barilkosphere and become regular readers.

• Pension Plan Puppets
• Battle of Ontario
• Big Smoke Sports
• Bitter Leaf Fan
• Cox Bloc
• Die Hard Blue and White
• Down Goes Brown
• He Score, He Shoot!
• Just Your Usual General Borschevsky
• Leafs at Hockey Analysis
• Maple Leafs Hot Stove
• Old Guys in Blue and White
• The Passion That Frustrates Us All
• Repressed Optimism
• Sports and the City
• Toronto Sports Media
• Wonderful World of Loser Domi

HS/HS: Your One-Stop Shoppe For Senators Hate

That cool breeze you feel blowing across the land comes from millions of clapping hands celebrating the 2-5-1 record of the Ottawa Senators. It's certainly not coming from their window of Stanley Cup winning opportunity, as that thing has been shut, painted over, and has tin foil up to stop any daylight from peeking in.

The asshole Senators, a group so historically gutless they have to eat over the toilet, were shown up Saturday night by a Leafs team devoid of "stars" and "firepower" -two things the Senators supposedly have in abundance- with things like "courage" and "heart", two words unpronounceable to any NHL team in the eastern townships.

"OK, who's going to step up?! Anybody?...Anybody?!?"

Writing a post ripping a team so bereft of quality hockey players/people comes easy, as one gets to indulge in an orgy of choice. From the bottom of their roster, to the, well, bottom of their roster, just point your finger and you're sure to come up with the name of someone worthy of a beating doled out by an 18 year old kid. Well, hey, lets start there, with a piece of shit I hate to call "Chris Neil".

On Saturday night, Neil, who scientists refer to as "slightly smarter than Sasquatch", did what he's done since he began polluting the NHL: not score any points. Oh, wait, he did do one other thing: he tried to cripple Matt Stajan by hitting him knee on knee. Of course, how could I forget? Luke "Kelowna Who?" Schenn couldn't, and did what anyone would do when they see someone so blatantly victimized by criminals; step up and punch its face in.

The idiot Neil, seen here taking post-game questions, was asked how it felt to get punched in his face by a kid with not even 1 NHL fight, but then run crying to the bench later in the game when challenged by Jamal Mayers. Neil squirmed, fussed and appeared confused at first by all the lights and shiny objects on display, at one point exclaiming, "Pee pee!" Senators trainers got to work soothing him, by exposing him to the warm, familiar smell of hot dogs, back sweat and sleep apnea, courtesy of Ottawa Sun reporter Bruce Garrioch.

Running around, playing tough until it counts. We shouldn't expect anything less from Chris Neil, a man whos patron saint is Ike Turner. The character of the club he works for is now well and truly known. Their soul non-existent, and their talent fishy, the Senators will have to kill themselves to get a playoff spot. Then, two months later, they'll get to choke down the taste of a mid-round pick. And doing that will continue the only thing the Senators do with any gusto at all.

I HATE THE GODDAMN OTTAWA SENATORS

This goes beyond renewing old rivalries and I know hate is a strong word. You have to believe me when I tell you that I am not a misanthrope by nature, so the word isn't one I use very often. But I fucking do. I fucking hate them. The H word, although not as anti-social as the N, as feisty as the F or cataclysmic as the Big C, encompasses how I feel, whether noun or verb regarding that asshole team.

And when I use it as a verb, I'm using it in the third-person singular simple present hates, as in "She hates the Ottawa Senators", the present participle hating, as in "Look at all those people hating the Ottawa Senators" and the simple past and past participle hated, as in "All of us in the orgy hated the Ottawa Senators."
I wouldn't even have to crack a Roget's to know the synonyms of how I feel about that team would be; detest, loathe, can't stand, despise, abhor, revile.

And if I were on Jeopardy and given the answer, it is the antonym of love, I would write down, in the form of a question natch, who are the Ottawa Senators?

And when I say Ottawa Senators, let me be perfectly frank; I'm painting all of you with that brush. My hate is so marrow deep that it goes beyond the product on the ice and transgresses into the city and fans as well. My dislike, as black and uninviting as the devil's anus goes for Rick Dudley and the canal too; the Corel Centre, 240 Sparks, The Rideau Center, Max Keeping, The 87, CFRA, beaver tails, Bagel Bagel, Deluxe, the fucking Glebe, the Chateau Laurier, Hull and the OC goddamn Transpo...no, you know what... basically everything from the Ottawa valley in.

G'day, eh.

You assholes.

Yesterday I saw a man not only wearing a Sens jersey and cap, but a loud and, quite frankly, ugly Sens jacket. A leather monstrosity that literally stopped me in my tracks. I looked at this guy and I thought, you standing right there, with your atrocious apparel are picking Alexandre Daigle over Chris Pronger and Paul Kariya in the draft.
You and your team deserve that pick and that jacket. Then I allowed myself ten seconds where I thought how awesome it would be to punch him in the stomach.

You team is in a shambles Mr. Coat and that makes my day. So much so that I am breaking with HS/HS tradition and posting during the day.

Pre-game.

Right now, I am not wearing a shirt and I am painted Leaf Blue and I am wearing comical pants and playing the trumpet. I am starting the wave and getting the crowd into it.

Tonight as we watch our young team play, a team that will absolutely not give up, it won't even matter if we beat the Sens score wise, because we already have beaten them in every other way.

Na na na na hey hey hey you fucking assholes (fucking assholes)
Na na na na
(everybody)
hey hey hey you fucking assholes (fucking assholes).

repeat and fade

ps. Did I mention I don't like the Sens?

NOT SO MUCH TEAM B, AS TEAM Aa

While watching the excellent Stevie Yzerman take the proverbial mantle of El General del Hockey Internacional Canadiense away from Wayne 'How are my clothes selling at Sears' Gretzky, I wondered, like we all did, not just how did Stevie Y get so handsome, but who? Who is he going to chose?

Rocking a hairdo that said both I am a man comfortable in my sexuality and I will win Gold for Canada at the 2010 Olympics; this phantom team, Yzerman promised, would comprise players who played a fast, skilled, multi-dimensional game.

It's pretty safe to assume there are certain locks to the team, regardless if we're talking about Yzerman's, yours or mine. Names like Crosby, Iginla, Pronger, Brodeur are on that list. What immediately went through my mind wasn't their names, but the names of the players who won't be on the team. As Canada's hockey talent overflows like peeing into a thimble, a team made up of guys not on the Olympic squad, would be way too good to be considered Team B. And even though they'd be hard pressed against the Russians who are, once again, scary good and the aging Swedes, who even without Mats as Captain, are a team you cannot count out, I still think they'd play Team Canada in the gold medal game.

(And with all due respect to Tavares or Hedman and even Stamkos with the Olympics being 16 months away, anything can happen but as of this , you are not considered).

Having said that, Ladies and Germs, may I present players that won't be proud to represent this country at the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics.

FORWARDS (and in no particular order) Ryan Smyth. It hurts me to even write, because Captain Canada stands for everything I love about a hockey player. And although I believe there will be some veterans presence on the team that plays in Vancouver; I believe Sakic and Brind'Amour have the edge over Smyth.

Ryan Getzlaf: Even though the the line of Getzlaf, Heatley and Nash are wanted by Interpol for being international killers, (gay) and it would be insane to split them up, I think, in the end, they're going to go with Richards or Morrow instead. Both of whom play a better 2 way game.

Also available for weddings, birthdays and bar-mitzvahs will be Martin St. Louis (who will now be played by Marc Savard) Simone Gagne and Paul Kariya.
By the way, Shane Doan meet Jonathon Toews, who thinks an honour just to be nominated. Thunder Bay's own Eric Staal will be the eldest of the Staal brothers not chosen and Jason Spezza; Jason Spezza is a 1984 Pontiac Fiero.

Taxi Squad's Taxi Squad: Paul Stastny, Mike Cammallari, Derek Roy, Corey Perry, Jordan Staal

DEFENSE: The same way it felt almost guilty saying that I don't think Ryan Smyth will be on the team, is the same way I feel saying Scott Niedermayer won't be either. First off you have to know that I heart Scott Niedermayer and thinking how the Leafs lost him for Tom Kurvers still causes me abdominal pain, but part of the problem with the 2006 Olympic squad was that exact feeling. And its an ooey-gooey place with secret handshakes and Josten's rings glad-handing itself into thinking that Todd Bertuzzi is a better idea than Sidney Crosby.
And it's in the heart where loyalty resides, and my heart tells me that in 16 months time, Ol' Neidsy will be the Captain but my brain says, that in another 16 months, I'd rather have Mike Greene on the team.

Also available those 2 weeks as golfing buddy, Dad taxi and home renovator, will be Robyn Regehr, Brian Campbell and Brett Burns. Brayden Coburn will be catching up on his soaps so don't bother him.

Taxi Squad's Taxi Squad: Marc Staal, Francois Beauchemin, Eric Brewer, Luke Schenn, Sheldon Souray.

GOALIES: Marty Turco, Carey Price, Marc-Andre Fleury. Even though I believe Turco was the best goalie in the NHL playoffs last year, with it being in Vancouver, and the advantages of home ice, I think Luongo is the man. As for Price and Fleury - they're #5 and 6 as of now.

Canucks Waive Kyle Wellwood

News just out that confirms what many in the Gillis family have long suspected, that most successful/popular Gillis, Mike, a.k.a. Vancouver Canucks General Manager, has a brain in his head, as he has waived Kyle Wellwood. Is there such thing as a reverse spit-take? There is now, as I just did one. This move comes as a surprise to everybody named Absolutely No One.

Kyle, seen here in his Vancouver condo, has yet to issue an official statement, but was heard leaving G.M. place muttering "Sizzle...sizzle...pop...sizzle!"

In related news, Seppo Sutela, General Manager of TPS Turko in Finland's SM-liiga has just released this statement: "I look forward to waiving Kyle from TPS 6 months from now."

YOU KNOW I COULD NEVER LOVE ANYONE ELSE

You've all heard the jokes; how do you get a short man to stop biting his nails? Make him wear shoes or What's the quickest way to a short man's heart? Straight through the rib cage or how many short men does it take to open a beer? None, cos it should already be opened by the time she brings it to the couch.

You are tall for your age if you're 11 and if you are a hockey player you're going to be overlooked at the draft. You've been called undersized since you could skate and Dad's and Mum's and coaches and teamates have called you the runt of the litter and always end sentences describing your stature with the phrase, "soaking wet". Veterans call you "Stumpy" or squirt or that fuggin' guy from that show with the other fuggin' guy.

Guess what pee wee, it takes a 100 million sperm to fertilize one egg and you're 5 foot 9.

I'LL STILL KICK YOUR FUCKING HEAD IN

I was recently reading an article on Maple Leaf prospect Dale Mitchell. Besides the fact that the article talked about his great numbers, his excellent skating, soft hands, tough-as-nails approach to the game, and that, by all accounts he is a heart and soul player, it also spent a lot of time discussing his size. Having all the ingredients of a great addition to any team, at 5'9, he could fare no better than 74th overall in the draft. That got me thinking about Steve Sullivan, who also 5'9 (233rd pick overall), never got to play enough minutes to show what he could do and was cast aside, lost for nothing, via the waiver wire. Which besides being like getting dumped via text message is just plain balls. Sullivan then went on to score 75, 60 and 61 points, the next 3 years respectively, for the Blackhawks.

It does seem antiquated and pre-lockout/caveman to care about being undersized, yet there is clearly a healthy dose of what can only be described as height-ism in the league. Size and the lack there-of, is worse than slow foot speed, no hockey sense or being Alexandre Daigle. How else can we explain 5' 7 Martin St. Louis not even being drafted, but Aki Berg (6'3) going 3rd overall? Incidentally, I hear Aki is doin' just super in the Finish league... hey did I also mention that St. Louis has won the Hart, Lester B, Art Ross and Stanley Cup?

My favourite little person (besides the awesome Billy Barty from Bizarre) has to be Theo Fleury. From the class of 1987, only Pierre Turgeon (6'1) taken 1st overall, Brendan Shanahan (6'3) taken 2nd overall and Joe Sakic (5'11) stunningly take 15th overall have scored more points than Fleury, who at 5'6 (soaking wet), was better than a point a game player. He was also taken 7 rounds later than those other taller players, 166th overall. And this little little man, God bless him, has represented this country.

Our how about Pavel Bure, who at 5'9 was not a big man, yet he was able to score 437 goals, and 342 assists in a very chintzy 702 games. As he was Russian, let me add that Bure was like the last doll in a Matroyshka set, collecting dusk in the wall units of babushka's all over the world.
Bure wasn't big, yet he was man enough to date the Paris Hilton of Tennis and perpetual Russian hockey player dater, Anna Kournikova. Can you imagine how good Bure would have been had he given a care? You don't get called the Russian Rocket unless you are a vibrator made in Moscow, or able to win the Rocket Richard Trophy. Twice.
He was also my favourite player in Power Play 96', even though I would always destroy his knee with that same inside move.

So to our Gagne's and Gionta's; Kappanen's and Kariya's. Our Mats Naslund's and Mush March's, I salute you for proving that perseverance and hard work always negate general shrimpiness. And remember you may not be very tall but at least you are not fat disgusting blobs of gross fatty fat fat.

Thank you for that.

DID THE PILGRIMS HAVE TUMS?

Full of tryptophan and a fire in my belly that's 50% yesterday's game, and 50% the 1 and a half Guiness, turkey, stuffing, gherkins, shrimp cocktail, cranberry sauce, buttertarts, salad, cocktail sauce, mashed potato, cocktail onions, sour cream, Pepsi, buns, butter, yams, banana bread, peas, carrots, coffee, turnips, pumpkin pie, a mouthful of red wine and something called a "goofball" that was made with marshmallow's and rice crispies also renting space in my guts. Not to mention I also really enjoyed employing gravy as beverage.

What I want to talk about is the 5o% not associated with food.

As I stated in my excellent post yesterday (add link here) the game against the Blues would be a very telling one, and in many ways it was.

What really upset that 50% of my tummy-tums that isn't food related is and was the shoot-out. I like Ron Wilson and think he is absolutely the right man for the job, but his Pick 3 didn't make sense to me. Kulemin I did understand, and he scored. But Antropov, who I thought stopped playing the moment the Leafs went up 3 to nothing, went in slower than Jason Allison on an ether binge. And Kubina? Oh, I get it, you wanted to confuse Legace by pulling the 'ol Crawford move by putting in the wrong guy, right? Right?
Right.
If CBC were to cut to the bench after Kubina's- for lack of a better word, move- I'm sure we would have seen a dejected Niklas Hagman a'la Gretzky, hanging his head.

HEY THOSE THINGS LOOK EXACTLY LIKE GOAT HORNSNot that it needs to be said, but let me just state for the record that when you are dealing with Norte, you are dealing with a m-a-n.

I eat my aspirin without water and I have never played touch football in my life. I love hockey and without sounding like the president of the Brian Orser fan club - I like it played hard.
I would rate our team toughness as above the Flying Fathers but below the Lizzies from the movie The Warriors. To say that we are in dire need of toughness would require me to look up the word dire so lets just say we're desperate for some team toughness immediately.

My favourite players are those who play hard (*sniff* Darcy) but not dirty. It may be a fine line but what Hollweg did was not, as Fletcher said, "marginal". And certainly not "debatable", as Wilson queried. It was, and I don't care that the kid saw him coming and turned his head, dirty. This is Steve Downie stuff, Gary Suter stuff. It's a fatty Mc-Bertuzzi burger with a side of super-sized Avery (and not that sort of good offensive side either) and quite frankly, I hate to see it in a Leafs uniform. (What I haven't heard mentioned and can only hope doesn't happen, is that as this is the 2nd hit from behind on a St Louis Blue (the latest being their own 18 year old wunder-kind, Alex Pietrangelo) and the next time the Leafs play them won't be a head hunting mission.)

Hollweg gets the 2 and a game and just like the TV show M*A*S*H, this major was a bitch. With goals 48 seconds apart from Keith "I still wont take you in the pool" Tkachuk and Patrik Berglund, and it was the start, for me, of what repeat LSD users call "gut-rot".

Saying that - do I believe there should be some internal punishment? Absolutely. Ron Wilson said he would hold players accountable, so we'll see. But do I blame Hollweg for the game and the loss of the point? No. This is an hour long game and not 20 minutes. The Toronto Maple Leafs let the Blues back - all of them, Hollweg included.

Alexei Cherepanov

Outrage over soon to be Toronto Marlies enforcer Ryan Hollweg hurting his career and more importantly, the Leafs, falls quickly silent this afternoon. It seems silly and insubstantial upon hearing the news of the heart attack death of a 19 year-old boy, Omsk forward and Ranger prospect Alexei Cherepanov.

The sense of shock about how this could happen to such a healthy young person is slowly being joined by feelings of outrage at how avoidable this might have been. As details come in about the incident- some true, many undoubtedly speculative- one tries not to perceive the incumbent events from a strictly emotional place. The situation will be ugly enough once we know what actually did and sadly didn't happen.

Apparently, an ambulance which is stationed at the rink for each game left before it had finished. Cherepanov had the crushing misfortune of collapsing at the end of the third, after its departure. The timeline varies about how long it took the ambulance to return to the rink. Some are saying around 15 minutes. Some are saying an insane 45. As there was no defibrillator on or near the bench, all Cherepanov's helpless teammates could do was carry him off the bench to the dressing room.

We'll see in the coming weeks what the state of Cherepanov's health actually was. We'll see if swift and proper medical attention could have saved him. We'll see whether or not his heart failing was only a matter of time, the only variable being where he would be when it happened.

A sad reminder to keep hockey, and in a much larger sense, life, in perspective. We've seen it with unfortunate frequency in the past few years. It was there after Luc Bourdon was killed, and when Jason Blake was diagnosed with cancer. Tempering our passion for our game with this view is perhaps the only way to find and make sense out of such senseless tragedy.

GUNTER GLIEBEN GLAUCHEN GLOBEN

Two billion years ago a meteorite 10km in diameter hit the earth about 100km southwest of Johannesburg, South Africa. The impact of the 1000 megaton blast of energy created an enormous impact center now known as the Vredefort Dome or the largest crater in the world. That was nothing compared to the sound of the collective jumping from the Leafs bandwagon Saturday night.

In the same amount of time it would take you to spell Sergei and Andrei Kostitsyn properly, the Montreal Canadiens had the Leafs beaten.

Admittedly, it wasn't pretty. Actually is was kinda terrible. So terrible in fact that I am shocked I didn't see Mats on the ice wearing the C. Or Paul Maurice behind the bench, shammy in hand, cleaning his latest frames from the Elton John Collection in frustration. Or McCabe scoring on us.

There was a stink to Saturday's game that reminded one of the Leafs circa 2005 - 2008. With Blake second guessing himself as he did on the 2 on 1 with Antropov. (Halak was beaten and instead of a one timer high (Halak was down) Blake took a second (to think about it) and Halak stopped it.) And with more giveaways than a double winner on showcase showdown and 3 periods of tentative, undisciplined hockey; not to mention Leafs forwards who, by re-enacting the comfy chair sketch from Monty Python all night, doled out less punishment than having to sit through a Ben Affleck movie.

It was just the opening night of Hockey Night In Canada, in front of a sold out home crowd, recent Olympians, the ubiquitous 48th and Alex Trebek. Just two days after a win so uplifting that they could have held up a pair of tits.

This is exactly what people want from our team. Losses that humiliate. Self-congratulatory viper Damien Cox wants it, asshole with a moustache Howard Berger wants it. Habs fans want it, and we know how those sanctimonious and truly awful people who live in this nation's capitol feel. You know that old phrase, "I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy"? They're the worst enemy. And guess what friends, those GDCSers wish it on you.

To those capitol fuck-faces, I would say: you with 1 line, no secondary scoring, shitty goaltending, weak chins, girlfriends with fat legs, a slow defense with no offensive ability and absolutely zero team identity, I would worry about your team, not mine.

But there was a difference between last night and those dreadful years I mentioned earlier. First thing was that I didn't feel humiliated like I did last year when the Leafs lost similar games. This team looked engaged, especially in the third, right to the final buzzer. I like when people don't give up. Van Ryn looked great, and so too did Luke Schenn, getting into a fight sticking up for Stajan. That's the kind of shit that makes a team tight.

A big problem is that the Leafs have no game breakers. But this is a team with 10 new players on its roster, 5 of which have never played in the NHL before, its going to take time and patience to find that.

You have to look at them exactly like scoring in competitive diving; where the highest and lowest scores are erased. What you are left with is the middle, and the middle is a pretty accurate estimation of what you're dealing with. Similarly, the way you cannot judge this team by how they performed against Detroit can you by how the played against the Habs. You want to get a more accurate view of the team? Watch tomorrow's game against the similarly troubled St Louis Blues.

And finally the anti-'atta-boy to the powers that be at the NHL and or MLSE for cutting off the 48th Highlanders, thus not allowing them to play themselves off to the Maple Leaf Forever, but for allowing Def Leppard time to play cuts off both the Pyromania and Hysteria albums.

NOW JUST DO IT AGAIN 81 MORE TIMES

I feel a complete sense of relief tonight like I finally slept well or had a swig of water on a hot day. Last night's game, may have been anti-climactic but a relief none the less. The product on the ice surprised me. Forgetting the turnovers and the too many passes and even forgetting the win. Not to oversell it but after last nights game I honestly felt that the world made a little more sense. If I were writing this blog for TV Guide, it would have been a cheers instead of a jeers from me.

Have you ever seen the Chippendale's Dance-Off sketch on Saturday Night Live? In the sketch (guest host) Patrick Swayze and Chris Farley play Adrian and Barney. Two men auditioning to be Chippendale's dancers. As the music begins its clear, even before they dance, that these are 2 very different men and 2 very different dancers. Adrian (Swayze; mulletted but chiseled) and Barney (Farley, coked up and self-deprecating) are the Detroit Red Wings and the Toronto Maple Leafs respectively.

Detroit like Adrian (Swayze) with his much better parts moved fluidly to the Loverboy song, playing. Barney (Farley, Toronto) showing unbelievable heart, as his fat and flabby body tried unsuccessfully to stay inside the shirt. His buttons threatening to rocket across the room and into the eyes of Jan Hooks. As his shirt came off and his disgusting fat blubber proved to be grosser than we thought, he had the heart to even attempt the worm. Last night our Maple Leafs (Barney, Farley) attempted the worm by trying to beat the defending Stanley Cup Champions; Detroit (Adrian, Swayze) in their own building. And win or lose you have to love that spirit.

Wilson proved himself to me last night. Not only honoring the Wings and his Uncle, who was one of the guys behind Mr. Hockey and the other guy carrying the banner last night, but for honoring winning itself.

What better way to show our new, young, team, finally free of that apathetic stink of entitlement, what winning, real winning looks like. I don't even care if Wilson made them all sit and watch Clockwork Orange-style. Zetterberg, Lidstrom and Gordie Howie? To those of you concerned that Luke Schenn shouldn't be on the big club don't you think that's exactly what we want him exposed to?

A few HS/HS 'atta boys to mention of course. First and foremost to our future Captain, Luke Schenn, who in his 17+ big boy minutes never looked out of place once and never warranted a Cory Cross sphincter clench (other-wise-known-as Aki-Ass). Another 'atta-boy to Dominic Moore who hustled like a guy having fun playing hockey. Another 'atta boy to Jonas Frogren, not just for his assist but for making me mentally compare him to Robert Svehla after his hit in the first. Another 'atta boy for Tlusty for looking like he knows where to place himself to create chances. And even though Greener is right that the Grabovski line is 33% too Euro, they looked determined to me and made our 1st line look bored and sluggish (Is it just me or does Poni seem out of place on the team?) Another 'atta boy to Kubina for looking like the leader of this team. And to Kulemin for not only stealing that pass and going in alone, but for having, what my people call the cajones to score, a real beauty, in his first NHL game.
'Atta frigin boy.

I know this will sound insane and perhaps a tad premature considering this is game 1 - but I don't think I have ever been as proud to be a fan of this team as I was last night. I hope that sounds sincere because it is. We may lose every game from here on out - but I enjoyed watching hockey last night and I haven't felt that for a long time. I don't even mind losing with these players. They played like instead of looking for a finish line, they were concentrating on their 30 seconds. And when determination usurps ego, as it did in last night's game, you're gonna win.
Great goaltending as per the usual with Toskala also helps tremendously.

I'm not quite sure what the exact opposite of an HS/HS 'atta-boy is: perhaps a knee to the groin or pink eye. Whatever it is, I offer it to the powers that be at the NHL for Def Leppard. I mean really? Def Leppard. Are you sure? I won't even get into the lead singer taking our most treasured possesion, the holy grail, Lord Stanley's cup and placing it upside down on that specially made Def Leppard podium, I won't even get into the drummer with the one arm or that Phil Collins is in this band. It's Def Leppard.

You know how I knew the NHL was gay? Cos they booked Def Leppard for their big opening night. One last 'atta boy to Gary Bettman for having his finger on the pulse of the nation. I heard he's trying to get Stryper for the Heritage Game.

Leafs Win Opener. Howard Berger's Night Ruined

There's something freeing when you've been released from the shackles of expectations, reasonable or otherwise. Going into the first game of the season, to say that the 08/09 version of the Toronto Maple Leafs were free of expectations would be the understatement of the century, unless those expectations were for them to "suck", and also to "blow".

Well, terrible writer Howard Berger and the rest of the viperous Toronto sports Fourth Estate had another night of developing coronary heart disease ruined Thursday, when the Leafs did what nobody except everyone who reads blogs thought they could: Win. Against the Stanley Cup Champion Detroit Red Wings ™. In fact, I believe in his Leafs preview/poison pen piece, the friendless Berger predicted the Leafs wouldn't even be able to find the Joe Louis Arena. Well, the Leafs sure did, and in a sad, related story, so did Howard Berger.

I watched the game at the home of an old acquaintance whom you may all remember. His name is Moose? Slightly above average height, medium build, a little too hairy, refuses to write his blog? Yes! We have a positive I.D.!

Moose as pictured, shockingly close to reality
I showed up, excited to actually watch a real hockey game on TV, instead of the endless hours of "Greatest 80's Oilers Moments" Moose has been Tivo'ing all summer on the NHL Network. Hey guess what everybody? The Oilers were really good in the 80's! And now you, me, and Bill Berg all know it! But tonight, we have live, meaningful hockey games! Come on, it's 4:00 (PST), let's go, put on Hockey Night in Canada! Opening night! Yes! What's that? The game's on Versus in the U.S.? So HNIC is blacked out then? OK, after I get over the shock of actually seeing a Canadian team on Versus, we'll get down to business, right? No, of course not dummies. First up is a performance sure to get the North American hockey audience pumped! Ladies, put for lace-gloved hands in the air for Def Leppard! You heard me, Def Leppard! Why Leppard? Cause obviously, when the NHL thinks of Canada's game, naturally it thinks of these guys:

Ron Wilson forced the Leafs to endure the weird spectacle of the Wings doing some scheduled maintenance up in the rafters of the Joe. I don't know what they were doing, putting some things near the roof. The Leafs don't do that. I guess that was to catch excess moisture? I have no idea what that was, but you'd think the Wings would do that on a non game night. And did Gordie Howe have to help? Man, he's really earning his pension. He even wore his old jersey. And holy shit, he's still the captain!

When the latest in G. Bettman's marketing fiascos triumphs was finally over, the Leafs came out dressed in their new (3rd) 36 point "we always win in these" jerseys, and played as sharp as they looked. Relying on young legs and the enthusiasm 5 guys playing in their first NHL game, the Leafs pushed the Red Wings just about all night, relying on things like:

• Speed
• Tenacity
• Fore/Back checking
  
• Neutral zone control

On the other hand, here are things the Leafs did not rely on:

• Mats Sundin

It was an evening of many small victories among one large one. While the Wings were at one point greatly out shooting the Leafs, the chances were even. There were a lot of active sticks all night, and the Leafs forced a lot of Wings turn overs, the most important being the one which led to the Kulemin game winner.

Everyone's favorite fake Facebook friend, Vesa Toskala, looked amazingly smooth and confident, playing his angles super aggresively. Chris Osgood had to make a lot of good saves, and he spent a lot of time flat on his back, pleasing no one in the Wings organization except for Kristen Bell. The second line of Grabovski, Hagman and Tlusty created a lot of great chances, but I think that line had 33% too many Europeans in it. They kind of had a pass first mentality, notably when Tlusty was centered pretty much all alone in the slot with the defenseman sliding away and he elected to dish it back to the high point. It seemed to need a little grit in there somewhere. Like perhaps a little Mark Bell? Nah, you know I'm just kidding!

Antropov was largely invisible, and 4th line detainee Matt Stajan has looked a lot better. Perhaps it was just one of those games for those two. Luke Schenn played 17+ solid minutes and never looked out of place in the #2 spot out of a potentially great looking foursome of him/Kaberle/Kubina/Colaiacovo.

No third period collapse despite the Wings' last minute powerplay. Leafs win 3-2, and the bad people in the world go to bed unhappy. If I had a job, I'd be skipping to work today.

He Score, He Shoot: He Said, He Said

This is a cross-post of our Leafs Season Preview written for the great Pension Plan Puppets. It's here to give everyone who hasn't already read it on PPP a chance to see it. All none of you.

As summer '08 gives way to the autumn of same, the time comes when hands reach back into any number of closets, grasping for the trappings of fall: The comfortable sweater knitted with earth tones. The kid-dreaded "Back to School" fliers from Zellers, and the compulsory team/division/conference hockey preview.

Well, your bro-felds at He Score, He Shoot are no different from you and your blog/text messages/drunken ramblings. We have a history of previews on our site, and, in doing research for this piece, I've noticed that they've been pretty much all been written by my...well, I almost said friend. How about "guy I made the mistake of mentioning doing a blog to", Moose. Since PPP has brilliantly devised a way for people to do his work for him (just by asking, you conniving bastard!) and to do a Leafs season preview, I thought I'd look and see what Moose wrote about the Leafs in his NHL season preview a mere year ago:

3. Toronto Maple Leafs: After writing that about Ottawa, I suddenly want to put the Leafs 2nd. See Leafs fans, you've improved already! Ironically, the Leafs look a lot like the Oilers on paper. Good goaltending, dangerous PP, but concerns about secondary scoring and defence. I think the addition of Jason Blake and another year of development from Wellwood, Steen, and Ponikarovsky, should allow them to score enough goals. The defence is still a concern. It's strange how hard I try to like, no, accept the Leafs for Greener's sake. Fuck, I'm a really good friend.

A few things. First, I am not his friend. I can't stipulate that enough. Secondly, this was after he chose Buffalo to win the Northeast with the Leafs third and Montreal 4th! And lastly, who the fuck cares what he just wrote about Ottawa! This was during a dark period in our blogs' history when Moose actually wrote a lot, usually about a team in the Western Conference...The Something Somethings...oh, who cares. The point is...here's He Score He Shoot's Leafs Season Preview! Joining me on the journey will be my compatriot on this Blue and White Brick Road, Norte! Yes! Awesome! Who cares! Well, we're going head to head today, point/counterpoint style. It's He Score, He Shoot: He Said, He Said. Or: "HS/HS/HS/HS"

GREENER: I've written recently about my Zen master's ability to put aside all yearning for the seemingly unreasonable things in my Leafs life, like "a Stanley Cup win", or "a playoff berth". Such are the whimsical fantasies of a child-like, yet sexily handsome (...ladies...?) young dreamer. I know the truest path towards the Leafs 08/09 season fulfillment, and it's through the forest of realistic expectations.

With the Leafs this truly begins and ends with the forwards. There's not a lot to demand out of this group, just a lot of possible surprises to be had. Can Nik Antropov finally build on a great career season and, you know, be good for two years in a row for the first time ever? Can he pull guys like Ponikarovsky along with him? I hope the Leafs don't rely on Nikki too much in the leadership department. I don't think he's the "respond to responsibility" type of guy. Too much pressure and he's more the "Wow, Nik must have the flu again" dude. He slumped last year while wearing an 'A', so lets just quietly ignore him and let him score 25 goals, shall we?

Another couple of mysterians are A. Steen and M. Stajan. Poised on greatness (ok then, goodness) for so long, this really is a case of since Mats isn't around to carry everyone, look for one or both of these guys to be significantly better. Stajan must hear a lot of the "future captain" talk, and if it's his ring to grab...then, uh, he must grab it! (nailed that one.)

In the TBD file, I'm putting any number of Grabovski's, Kulemin's unt Hagman's. I've been tantalized by promises of hot-shotness before (and I still think Alexander Suglobov can make the team), so I'll just let these dudes go out and have fun and delight in playing in the greatest uniform since nudity. If they want to score 20 apiece and dangle Chris Phillips out of his tiny jr. jock, then fine by me.

Lastly, I want to say that I actually got excited by Ryan Hollweg's suspension today. I can't wait till the Leafs start being those guys again. The kind that used to be detestable for all the best reasons. My darling Darcy could only do so much after Domi and Roberts left. I'm fucking happy that if the Leafs have to lose a game, then at least they'll kick the Jesus Christ out of the opposing team for doing it.

NORTE: I wish it were only a question of diet, and a simple answer of not enough meat as to why the Toronto Maple Leaf forward core are the most anemic crew since the Vegan information tent at last year's Lilith Fair. I don't want to say these guys are a bunch of pansies, but yesterday my neighbors Dalmatian took a dump on Anton Stralman.

And when you get called out by your own GM (and I don't care how much reverse psychology was spun into it, it's not motivating to hear your own GM say there's only 1 top 6 forward on the team, it's like your Mom telling you you're ugly. When you hear that - guess what, you're an absolute bowser.) I have to give over to Greener about this year- His Kung Fu starring David Carradine machinations and fortune cookie soundbites regarding what can't kill him only making him stronger. He's correct. When your expectations are at absolute zero, something is better than nothing.

Our absolute zero, looks like Blake (who in this mulligan free year must re-connect with his inner-Tikkanen) and Antropov (who absolutely must not carry the weight of no Sundin on his shoulders.) Centered by Stajan. That hurts a little to even type. Should he be the Leafs 1st line center? I dunno. Should I expect anything even remotely first line from him? Meh. Yet do I expect Matt Stajan to play himself right into the Captaincy of the team? Shrugs.

If this line were an 80's Sitcom; "Perfect Strangers"

Of course with guaranteed spots also going to Poni, Steen and Moore, guys like Grabovski, Tlusty, Hagman, Mitchell, Devereuax, Mayers, Hollweg and Kulemin will be sprinkled like salt on the boiled chicken of the rest of our lines. And it pains me to say this, although Sensei says it shouldn't, that some, if not most of these guys will also do duty on the first line this year.

Dominic Moore played himself into the roll of 2nd line center by showing more hustle than a Van McCoy reunion cruise. Does it make me want to vom in my own mouth that Dominic Moore is our 2nd line center? Lalalalalalala - I can't hear you...lalalalalala - sticks fingers in ears. He is winged by Poni and Steen. When I close my eyes and wish upon the stars, this sounds like a pretty good line. But the I CHING tells me not to give a crap about that because I fear this line will never gel. And it goes without saying that Steen needs to be like last years' Antropov.

80's Sitcom Comparison: "Alf "

After that, this free for all includes a lot of seat-fillers. A 3rd line, with nothing set in stone, as some of these guys have been put on waivers, but I will say Hagman, Williams and Tlusty.

80's Sitcom Comparison: "Benson"

Watch for Devereaux, Hollweg, Mayers, Bell and Grabovski to enjoy the amenities of the Comfort Inn in Milwaukee when they play the Admirals when not playing on the first line.

80's Sitcom Comparison: "Punky Brewster"

GREENER: How fortuitous that a defense-minded coach like Ron Wilson inherits a club with so many dreamy D men. While the Leafs perhaps have a couple or three too many puck movers like Kaberle and Stralman, Cliff Fletcher has balanced out the ticket with ex-navy Seals like J. Frogren and M. Van Ryn. If Van Ryn can retain his health and play physically, say like, off the top of my head, Bryan McCabe from 3 years ago, that is a great plus. Kubina and his 2-way game keep getting better, and should finally look like a relative bargain with his 5 M salary. To put it in perspective: Wade Redden makes 6.5 M. Fuck Wade Redden. Is it crazy to think of Colaiacovo as a full-time Leaf? Of course it is. But a little Carlo goes a long way, and again, with limited expectations (ie: don't try be Chris Pronger every game), I see Carlo being strong, solid and gobbling up #3 minutes.

The D will get a lot of work done this season under Wilson, and I think the Leafs have the best combination in a long time to match those demands. As for Luke Schenn, the Leafs have the kind of problem they should be having every year: do they keep their top and best draft pick up, because he's been fantastic and deserves to stay, or err on the side of caution and send him down for seasoning? Whether or not Schenn stays with the club after 10 regular season games (I don't think he will), the Leafs have already provided us with a real and needed light upon which we can train out telescopes, in this the first of too many re-building years to come.

NORTE: I have to admit that I love the Leafs defense. Perhaps love is too strong a word. I like the Leafs defense a lot. I wouldn't marry their defense but I wouldn't cheat on it on vacation either. I like that there are 10 quality defensemen fighting for 7 spots and that not one of them is named Wozniewski. I love that one of them is a 5th overall pick, and that at 18 years old was good enough in camp to even be considered for the team. When I was 18 I still cried when I got pimples. Do I believe he will overlap his probation period of 9 games, no. Do I believe we will see the man in the boy? Yes. Yes, I do.

To me the Leafs defense is the most encouraging thing going for the team. It's less a bitter pill than the forwards, more like a cucumber sandwich made with a meely cuke.

The obvious Leaf studs are Tomas Kaberle and Pavel Kubina. Besides the fact that they're both obvious top 2s, they'll eat the most minutes and play the point. I worry that Kaberle will take less shots this year as he will constantly be setting up Kubina's great low shot. Besides, both know that 9 times out of 10 a "trhni sih nohou voleh" will get you a "vyser si voko!"

Also, does anyone remember Wilson saying that had the Sharks acquired Kubina at last seasons' deadline , he wouldn't be the coach of the Leafs right now? In non-gay man-crush terms, that's like getting down on one knee and proposing. I look at this line as our obvious number 1. Game in, game out, playing them, is tantamount to chumming the waters.

If this line were a Hollywood movie soundtrack: "The Mission"

The second line pairing. To me this is all about a phrase we are going to hear a hundred times this year: make it or break it. If the Leafs can be accused of letting guys go too early, than they can also be accused of holding onto players too long. This year that honour belongs to Carlo Colaiacovo. Maybe even more so than Steen and Stajan, Colaiacovo has to prove he isn't made of popsicle sticks. As this has got to be Carlo's coming out year, his make it and not break it. I hope- and I know this is strange to say considering how soft the Leafs are- that Carlo plays less physically. He seems to get into the most trouble when he's trying to be Scott Stevens, so for that reason I hope to see him paired with Jeff Finger. Granted Finger isn't really known for his physical play (or his offensive play either) but I believe under Wilson's tutelage, he (Finger) will allow Carlo the room to play hockey. I also see this unit playing a big shutdown roles, and being a big part of (what I believe will be) an improved Maple Leaf penalty kill.

Hollywood Movie Soundtrack: "Footloose."

3rd pairing: With Frogren and Stralman already having been paired at the Worlds, it makes sense that they'd be the Leafs #3 unit. That is very encouraging. Even though I believe this duo (which will also rotate Van Ryn in and out) will see the other team's weaker forwards, developing under Wilson, this allows Stralman a chance to be competitive offensively. For that same reason (it being a real development line) I see White as the odd man out. Although I did really like him and his right hand shot playing on the wing the other night.

Hollywood Movie Soundtrack: "Dirty Dancing". (w/ Ian White as She's Like The Wind by Patrick Swayze)

GREENER: One of the smart things that JFJ did during his reign of terror was sign Vesa Toskala to that premature contract extension. With former-former coach Wilson in charge of putting up walls of good D around Vesa, a good season of good numbers and a bad win/loss record is to follow. The games the Leafs will win will be because of him, and really that's how it should be. As for the losses, there will be a lot of 2-1 and 3-2 tallies in the box scores this season. The question with Curtis Joseph is, is a 41 year old Cujo better as Leafs back-up than say, a 31 year old Marc Denis? Money wise, yes. The same goes for the locker room. Cujo has a big role to play off the ice as well as on, and you can already smell the post-retirement job offer the alumni crazy Leafs must be making him.

NORTE: As last season came to a close I began to wonder if Mr. Hakim Optical, Paul Maurice, had started Toskala as the #1 from the start of the season, would the Leafs have made the playoffs? Granted, nobody could have predicted Andrew Raycroft would have been a terrible as he is...pardon me...was...and playing yourself into number 1 sounds good in a media scrum but it failed the Leafs badly. The Brotherhood of the Mask insists that I say that I hope it didn't completely destroy young Raycroft. (Cos I know the moustache was just a way to mask the pain). But I am glad to see him gone. Toskala is a number 1 goalie and a very good one. I see this team losing a lot of games, potentially all 82, but I don't see Toskala getting blown out.

Now we have prodigal son Jo-sieve back in the fold. All is forgotten buddy. You and your eyebrow are welcome in my uniform any time. Truth be told, I love him in this role. It's a feel good signing of course, but who better to mentor our youngins (Mssrs. Reimer and Pogge) than Cujo?

I see him playing more games than Raycroft did (I'm thinking 18 -20) and winning more than Raycroft could. However I also see him until the trade deadline where he gets shipped out for a 5th rounder.

THE OUTSIDERS CHARACTER COMPARISON :

Toskala - Ponyboy Curtis

Joseph - Sodapop Curtis

Raycroft - Johnny Cade

There you have it, He Score/He Shoot: He Said/He Said. Brought to you by your friends Greener and Norte, c/o the great PPP. We hope you enjoyed us it.

Contemporary Design Comparison:

Greener: Mies van der Rohe

Norte: Le Corbusier

PPP: Frank Lloyd Wright

LIKE WINE, GREENER GETS MORE EXPENSIVE WITH AGE AND STINKS THE LONGER HE'S KEPT IN AN OAK BARRELL

If I could just get your attention...everyone...(clinks fork aggressively on glass) everyone...I would like to take a moment to mention something about our very own Greener. Forgive me for taking time out of your busy schedules.
What can you say about a man like Greener? Talented writer, great friend, terrific brother...no, nothing like that...but you can say that today he celebrates the day his mother could no longer carry his parasitic ass around in her stomach.
That's right, today is his birthday.

Right now in some shitty bar, some shitty band is singing Today Is Your Birthday, shittily directly to him. And Greener no matter what your age - you are always gonna be the prettiest girl in the room to most of us...not me mind you - but others. The gay ones with vision issues primarily.

It's either very new cheese or very old meat. Anybody who knows me knows I love three things; the Leafs, old Halloween candy and Greener. Quite frankly, you already know this is a blog about the Leafs/Oilers, so that gets the hockey angle out of the way. The fact is this is because of Greener, what I am writing and what you are reading. Because in italics- because of Greener, you are reading this post; on this blog which exists because of Greener. And in many confusing and sinister ways you could say that its because of Greener that I have my sparkling smile that dazzles you when we meet.

However I would rather talk about his quality posts (when he can be bothered to pick up his 24 carat pen) which are always funny and thoughtfully well written, timed perfectly with only a soupcon of gay that never undermines his actual hockey knowledge. That's Greener for you. He's just like that pretty gospel song about Jesus I can't remember the name of...He lays it all out on the line, every time.

In all honesty without him at the helm of the ship that is the HS HS/HS there would be no forum, other than bathroom stalls, to claim his greatness. (For those of you who may have read some of those posts, if you took down his number, I can still guarantee that, if you call him, he will provide a good time. ps. Just in case any of you were wondering, Greener, like Moose, speaks Greek.) But - a birthday, like a roast or a best man's speech, is one of the few times you get to burn someone you like this much, as much.

As the less than stellar Lennon-McCartney couplet said today is your birthday We're gonna have a good time, I'm glad it's your birthday - Happy birthday to you.

...having said that... the fact that you are yet another year older than me fills me with a kind of warm gooey embrace like living in an egg. An egg created by your anger and confusion (the white parts) over the tone of my tome, and the bitter betrayal you feel because of my delicious yellow yolk of words.

I was brought up to never kick a horse when its down but then I thought, forget about that shit.

Greener is now at any age where he has nothing left to learn the hard way and proves everyday to us and to himself that enthusiasm and 'trying real hard' will always triumph over actually possessing any talent.

Greener is like being a virtuoso on the recorder.

I am not sure of his exact age, I know it lies between Exhibition Stadium old and sending money to PBS old. He's like lukewarm old.
Truth be told, most of us our just counting the days until he starts talking to us about liniment.

You know Greener just had a birthday when you compliment him on his alligator shoes and then realize he's barefoot.

I don't mean to infer that Greener is old but he did take Katherine Helmond's virginity.

Savagely.

So please everybody from this day forward you will have to forgive Greener because as he's the first to tell you his memory is not as sharp as it used to be, also his memory's not as sharp as it used to be.

Also he wanted me to mention to stay off his lawn.