Tuesday, January 8

Aliens to MacT: Ummmm, nah, you keep Grebeshkov

Who in piss hell was that playing in the Oilers silks last eve? That question has been burning in the minds of Edmonton fans, and likely any scouts that were present and more than likely in the coaching and front office staff's fevered brains in the wake of an entertaining, free flowing, humdinger of a game.

I wish I could comment on how the Oil have turned a corner. I wish I could disprove the "Canadians eat their own" rule. I wish. But no. The Oilers did this to me in early december. Remember? When we'd all gotten over them. When it became clear that the Oilers were just a bunch of jerk asses left over from the previous year, and that just under 10 million dollars had been spent on two guys in exchange for the sole service of "being tall". Then, suddenly, more than two games were won in a row. The earth shuddered, shook, tried to shimmy but embarassedly stopped halfway having never been clear on what a shimmy really was, then split open and swallowed the team again and with it, my hopes and dreams.

Since I refuse to do any research for this blog thereby unseating Moose as the club secretary I'm going to give a vague stat. 16 games in a row where the opposition got at least one point. 16! That's an awful lot of division rivals strolling away with parting gifts or even with the big door prize. So forgive me for not hopping on the wagon again. Besides, I simultaneously fell off the Oilers bandwagon and my AA bandwagon and so if I tried to get back on I'd miss or at best throw up all down the side.

That being said, boy, it was fun to watch those alien bodysnatchers wearing the skins of our players last night. Remember when Xlykok, dressed as Hemsky, began to deke and instead shot between the legs of the hapless Islander defenceman? Human Hemmer woulda tried a deke and been pushed off the puck and then whiffed on a pass. Or howzabout The Mighty Gorffrijion, wearing the recently removed face of Marty Reasoner over his glistening scales, using some sort of alien time bending technology that warped his style of play back to when he was in junior? Or the insidious, devilish, hideous Grebeshkov, who was not taken over by our new alien overlords and instead was just as terrible.

Dennis Grebeshkov (pictured right) was his usual horrifying self. How he managed to not be inspired by his teams clean breakouts, by Hemmer's lifting the team on his shoulders, by Stoll's resurgence or by Mathieu Garon's first game as official starter and instead chose to blow it huge every time he touched the puck, I will never understand. So lemme get this straight, he can't play in a tight checking game because he's not strong enough or positionally sound, so he must be able to shine in a game like last nights, where there were three different occasions in which the game went over five minutes without a stop. We've got Gilbert, Pitkanen, and even most underrated player Ladislav Smid successfully pushing the puck up the ice AND playing solid D, WHY IS GREBESHKOV PLAYING!!!??? Its well documented the Oil need more grit, just as its well documented that Grebeshkov is a shitheel, so why is he playing and Rourke, the surprise unknown defensive defenceman in white shining armor candidate languishing in the minors. Are Grebeshkov's zero goals really worth all the mistakes? Are his boneheaded plays made worthwhile by his aimless passes through the neutral zone? I submit to you that they are not. Who wants to head up a posse, find this guy, and string him up by the gold chain he wears on the OUTSIDE of his jersey? I will say however, his going from a tinted 70's pimp visor to the clear "didn't improve his vision" visor does deserve a kudo. I'm now going to conclude with the ending a real Canadian hockey journalist would. "Beam him up, MacT!" Get it? Eat your heart out (along with the entirety of the buffet table) Terry Jones!

1 comment:

Moose said...

I think at this point 'Grebs' is just mocking us with his sheer crapness. Remember how silky smooth Cory Cross used to look?