CHOKED

Hey, it's Greener. Tonight I discovered that inanimate objects obviously feel intense joy, as my computer has taken its own life because of the Penguins first round sweep of the Senators. It obviously felt it couldn't experience anything greater in existence, and decided to go out on top. I however, feel there is something else wonderful in life to look forward to: Next years Senator collapse, but one joyous occasion at a time. Moose is putting these up for me, because that's just the kind of frie...person he is. Savor these moments my friends. We deserve them.

THIS! IS! KANATA!

I prepared myself for watching an Ottawa Senators home game tonight by pre-purging my stomach of it's contents; it just saves me the time and energy cleaning up while watching everything that goes on in that (soon to be deserted) building.
After the pre-game show, which I spent wondering why the hell Ron MacLean was awkwardly holding a bottle of water, Ron threw it over to that pig-pen in Kanata. Just then the Ottawa crowd starts going crazy with a standing ovation. Me, I thought they must've just announced that it was Free Deep-Fried Cookie Dough Night, but no, it was something even worse. The fans were cheering for the now even stupider Daniel Alfredsson, whose brave return to the ice tells you two things: 1. That the Senators diapers are completely full and they know it, and 2. That Alfredsson is one boards bump away from eating his Meusli in pablum form for the rest of his life. Let's put it this way: When a reporter asked Alfredsson how he felt to be back in the game, he replied "It's 11:30."

But wait. Before the NHL playoffs continue, the Senators organization puts on the most unintentionally homo-erotic thing I've seen since Washingtron's acting reel. It's the stupidest thing that team has done since putting up a classless yet insanely reversely motivating banner in the visitors hallway. When was that again? Oh yeah, yesterday.
See, here's the thing: Canadians don't really know how to "put on a big show". It's not in our genes...or in our Genies or Junos or CASBY's. Every time we try to do something big and produced (read: American), it comes out looking quaint and provincial. Every time the Ottawa Senators try, it comes out howlingly ridiculous and absurd (read: their Stanley Cup dreams).

During the actual game I noticed that great teammate Martin Gerber paid tribute to fallen Senator Mike Fisher by picking up where Fisher left off from last years playoffs by diving like a bitch when bumped by an opposing player. Diving is one thing, but diving in the playoffs is some of the worst shit I've seen. So in this case, A (Mike Fisher) + B (Martin Gerber) = C (No One Respects the Ottawa Senators). What a surprise that all of Canada wants them to lose...AGAIN.

A fantastic Penguin win, ironically made all the better because Gary Roberts couldn't play and they still dominated. Crosby is scoring now, and the Senator answer for him is...Nick Foligno? Better start preparing next years banner.

Run Around You

I'm trying to quell the disappointment of Montreal's OT loss tonight by watching the first period of the Calgary - San Jose game. Three minutes in, consider it quelled courtesy of a 3-0 Sharks lead, and a vintage Dion Phaneuf performance. The NHL's most overrated defencemen has been on the ice for every goal. Phaneuf (seen here during San Jose's 2nd goal) is fucking clueless in his own zone, unless of course he's skating 30 feet out of position to put someones face through the signage, in which case "HE'S A MONSTER!" Tonight, Patrick Marleau has been the intended target on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, while Dion was standing around admiring his manly work, Marleau decided to go to the net and score a goal.

I know Mike Keenan is the man most often given credit for the development of Chris Pronger, so perhaps under Iron Mike's tutelage, Dion can develop into a solid #3 or #4 defender.

Actually, I must give full credit to Patrick Marleau tonight. He has been absolutely annihilated a couple times and keeps getting up, despite blood streaming from every orifice of his body. The Leafs could have used that kind of leadership.

Having said that, I fully expect the NHL's 2nd most gutless team to choke on their three goal lead and go meekly into the playoff night.

EDIT: 3-2 Sharks in the 2nd period. It's only a matter of time...

Nevermind, I got it!

So imagine this: It's February 16th, and I'm getting ready to write another of my "Post of the Year" candidates, and I can't remember my password! Crazy, right? And totally true. So, to make things easier I just changed it to the same one I use for all my other accounts: RamziAbid_MVP.

Needless to say that Greener, Norte, and that guy who hacks into the site to write crazy Oilers shit, have raised the standard of excellence while I've been gone. I can only hope that "this post is likeable," just like Greener's. It's one thing to get quoted on a nationally recognized blog, but when 'Fragmentadora de Papel' brings that kind of spamlove in the comments section, it's time to start dropping "Hot Dog on a Stick" off the bottom of the resume. I mean seriously, Greener.

A Crystal Ball for an Eight Ball?

I was looking back on my pre-season predictions last night, and I see where I went wrong. I assumed that all NHL teams like to win hockey games. Turns out that's not entirely true. I'm talking to YOU Dean Lombardi. How about getting a goaltender? Not that it's an easy task in Los Angeles. I mean is there a greater source of career suicide than playing goal for the L.A. Kings? How do you think Jonathan Bernier feels when he hears that he's their "goalie of the future?" Fuck, Leonard Nimoy is still "In Search Of" Roman Cechmanek. Unfortunately, he won't find him because he's probably buried beneath Jamie Storr's sarcophagus. But whatever, thanks for Mathieu Garon.

In the wake of Jacques Martin stepping down as coach of the Florida Panthers, I think it's fair to say the considerable pressure that comes with my endorsement is too much to handle for some. Therefore, I'm not gonna saddle any of these playoff teams with that burden. But I must say, I think the Calgary Flames have a HUGE shot to go all the way. I'm just saying.

Did I Say Playoffs?

I have to admit, I'm enjoying the first few days of the playoffs a lot more than I thought I would, given that the Oilers are not involved. Perhaps it's the fact that the season ended on such a positive note for the Oil, or perhaps it's just enjoying watching great games with nothing emotionally invested. Some thoughts after Day #3:

- Owing to my family roots, Montreal is now my rooting interest and they came out like gangbusters against Boston on Thursday night. Boston tried to take it to them physically right off the drop, but about 90 seconds into the game they figured out that they are really slow. Hence the 0-8 record against the Habs this year. Scoring first against the Bruins is always key, as it prevents Claude Julien's Vulcan army from rendering hockey games lifeless.

- "Our guyths thowed a lot of guths, tonight." I believe that's a direct quote from Bryan Murray after Game 2 of the Pittsburgh-Ottawa series. They sure did. Down 3-0, in a hostile building, against a young, hungry team. Then they choked on, and threw-up those very same guts all over the ice with a minute to go in the game. This could have been a turning point for the Sens. Think about it: An injury-riddled team coming back from 3 goals down, Gerber turning back 50 shots, and then getting a split on the road? Instead they face a huge climb to get back in the series and you have to wonder if there is any temptation to risk Alfredsson earlier than they wanted to. Unfortunately, due to the nature of his injury (concussion) it's probably something only time can heal...or cheese fries.

- There's no series less worthy of my time than Calgary - San Jose. A titanic struggle to see which team has a gossamer thin layer of extra gutlessness. Throw in two of the most overrated coaches in the NHL locking horns, and it has all the drama of game of Connect Four. Your move Keenan...


Klima!

If you've followed HS,HS from its inception, you know that we're big Petr Klima fans. Legend. Come playoff time, visions of Klima can't help but dance in your head. Game 1 in Boston...Triple Overtime...Stanley Cup Finals. Any of that get you horny? Tissue, Washingtron? Near as I can tell, Petr is now coaching youth hockey in Michigan, and you really can't ask for much more in a role model than Petr Klima, can you? So at this magical time of year, I thought it would be nice to post a little something about Petr. A peek inside the man behind the DUI's:

Here he is, 'doggin it' like always...

...and here's our hero, totally about to nail this chick by the fireplace after breaking into an empty house...

Happy Playoffs, everyone!

No, I Take The Last Post Back: I Love The Pittsburgh Penguins!

Ecstasy in the Greener tee-pee tonight as Most Macho Man Ever Gary Roberts continues his career long Hulk Smash routine against the Senators in Pittsburgh. With a dream-like score of 4-0, this is the 5th time in 11 playoff years the Senators have been shut out in game 1. Coincidentally, this marks the 11th time in 11 playoff years that Ottawa has iced a team of gutless, lazy assholes, so, there's that.

Roberts, seen here as he appears on my bedsheets, has 32 career playoff goals. 14 of those are against the Senators in what can only be described as something that makes Daniel Alfredsson turn into a despised little bitch. No, wait, that's what hockey does, my mistake.
Watching the man who dominates him and his team like a master to his dog, Alfredsson viewed the game from the press box and tried to make Senators owner Eugene Melnyk laugh by tripping the girl bringing them their drinks. Melnyk shook his head in disgust and tried to think of who deserves the Senators 'C' after he strips it from Alfredsson. While no one on the actual team deserves it either, Melnyk's leading candidate remains that retarded guy who grabs the sticks for the Oilers.

In other game news, Wade "I Should Have Let Them Trade Me" Redden enjoyed the succulent bouquet of having his head kicked in by Ryan Whitney in what can only be summed up by saying, "Awesome!" I actually believe that Whitney denied the Senators more embarrassment by stopping Crosby from beating Redden, thereby allowing Crosby to win something other than Canadian Sportsman of the Year. And the disappointments continue to rack up for poor Sid.

Game 2 on Friday. Crosby: 2 goals, Alfredsson: sends Mark Bell a thank-you note.

I Take It All Back: I Love The Boston Bruins!

The Ottawa Senators took some well deserved time away from eating dog shit for a living to beat the Leafs tonight and all I can think of is one thing: Claude Julien, you and your hockey-ruining team will go out Friday night and cause the Senators to fall asleep just long enough for you and your mongoloid Captain to go motherfucking Richard Zednick on their collective ass. I'm speaking metaphorically, of course...or am I?

I'm a very peaceful guy. I've only kicked the living shit out of a few people in my adult life, surprisingly none of them named Moose, but when I see those fuckers running around our ice playing "big boys", my blood begins to boil. Dany "I Talk Tough To Tucker In The Box But When We're In A Scrum I'm Running Away" Heatley drew one of those cards tonight. I guess he has to do something now because IF the Senators make the playoffs, he's sure going to be busy being invisible. I mean, why break the habit of a lifetime, right?

Bell's murderous hit on Alfredsson, or as I call it, "The best thing I've seen all season", was made all the sweeter by the fact that it was clean. Even the rotten Ottawa bench couldn't deny that. Bell had his elbows as low as elbows can go, and Alfredsson was just admiring his shot. The thing is, I think it set the Leafs off the game. It raised the temperatures too much and the Leafs just forgot about hockey. I mean, when Darcy Tucker is your acting captain, cooler heads are not going to prevail. The hit and the subsequent fighting caused the Leafs to obsess about beating Ottawa, instead of winning the hockey game. Kind of like in '98 in Nagano when Team Canada's only focus was to mete revenge for the '96 loss to Team USA. They put everything into that, and had nothing left for the rest of the tourney. Oh yeah, that AND Canada coach Marc Crawford put Ray Bourque in the shootout against the Czechs instead of Wayne Gretzky, the greatest goal scorer in hockey history. I'm just saying.

So tomorrow night The Passion That Unites Us All will be for the Boston Bruins to beat Ottawa who have one game less to play. The now in 8th Capitals play Florida on Saturday. Bruins to play Buffalo. Lets go people! Dare to dream!

Richard Peddie Interviewed On HNIC. Take Me Away From All This Death

Moneyed vampire Richard Peddie descended from his castle atop Witch Mountain Saturday to waste the time of speak with CBC's Elliotte Friedman. Elliotte, who has the most feminized male name I've ever seen, sat in horror for 6 and a half minutes, as Peddie spoke of his lust for money and the automatic autonomy the winner of the TML GM sweepstakes will most certainly get.

Peddie, seen here arriving for the interview, also said things like "I never drink...wine", and commented on how a pack of howling wolves outside were "...de children of the night!"
Friedman, his throat tightening, wondered aloud if Peddie had ever heard the hew and cry from Leafs fans who just wish that he would disappear. Peddie indignantly defended himself by saying, "De billagers! They will ne-ber know of my exquisite tortures!" At which point Gord "Renfield" Kirke rushed out and shoved a handful of spiders into Peddie's mouth.

Washing them down with a bejeweled goblet filled with twonies, Peddie said that the interview process for the GM's job hasn't even begun. Obviously suggesting that there is only one man they want for the job, and they have to wait until the playoffs are over to talk to him. Any other "candidates" can swing in the wind until August, by which time Peddie, Kirke and Walking Dead charter member Larry Tenenbaum will surely have alienated said #1 choice by asking him how much money he's got on him right at that moment.

Friedman then brought up the Forbes magazine piece from last November which stated that the Maple Leafs are basically worth half a billion dollars. Peddie got a crazy gleam in his eye, threw back his head laughing and said, "Aahhhhh, Elliotte my dear... that article you refer to, that is in my personal spank-bank!" Gord Kirke, on his hands and knees, then squealed, "Ha ha ha, good one Master! You spank to half a billion dollars!"

"Enough!" screamed Peddie, causing Gord Kirke to wet himself.
"It is time, Friedman..." said Peddie, "...to get from you what I truly desire!"
Friedman clutched valiantly at his throat. "No, Dracul! You will never drink from my body!" he said.
Peddie laughed. "You fool. That is for not what I crave!"
Peddie raised a clawed hand. Friedman held himself more closely, fearing the worst. There seemed to be a power, an energy, coming from Peddie's outstretched collection of talons. Suddenly, there was a ferocious tugging at Friedman's pants. As Gord Kirke howled hysterically, Elliotte's wallet violently came away from his pants pocket. It flew across the room and sailed into the waiting, sweaty paw of Richard Peddie. Peddie examined it's contents: $13, and a Roll Up the Rim to Win coupon.
Pocketing the lot, Peddie said, "Ahhh, Friedman, this will add nicely to my collection!"
"But..." sputtered Friedman.
"SILENCE!" screamed Peddie, causing Gord Kirke to wet himself again.
Peddie began to laugh. It started in his belly, moved up into his throat and then to his lips. Before it seemed he could laugh no harder, his body started to convulse, and an instant later, Peddie had transformed himself into a bat!
"Reet! Reet!" said Peddie, as he flapped his vascular skin flaps, and sailed out of the window.
"Wait for me, Master!" yelled Gord Kirke, as he ran and flung himself and his now soaking wet trousers out of the same window.

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

It's late and the Leafs game I recorded just finished. I have absolutely nothing funny, good or even stupid to write. I'm just tired. Is there anything original to say at this moment? Can I elevate the quality of the discussion around the Leafs right now? Is it even pertinent to bring up the goddamn Toronto St. Pats? The finger pointing started after Tuesdays game, and by the time we read what we all have to say, there'll be a lot of one-eyed Players, Coaches, GM's, Former GM's, Captain's, Goalies, Executives and Fans.

My disappointment right now, although huge, feels drab and lifeless. This may be a product of maturity, although I doubt it. It may be a product of enforced expectations. I don't know, and at this time, I don't even care.

You Don't Look A Day Over 200

Hi everybody. I'd like to take a couple of minutes away from using the word "motherfucker" to bring your attention to the fact that it's someone's birthday today! On this day in Leafs history, someone in our Leaf Loving family was torn from the warm, perfect, secure embrace of his mother's womb and into the drafty, imperfect and insecure embrace of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Yes, none other than, you don't know him, but you still love him, NORTE! Boooo, I mean, yaaaaaaay!

Let me tell you that Norte is what being a fan of the Leafs is all about. You know that feeling you get when you see the Leafs walk down their hallway and run out onto the ice? Take that and put it into a cat-like frame, and you have Norte.

Norte loves the Leafs so much, he puts on a tuxedo to watch "Game In An Hour".

Norte is so cool that Pavel Kubina refused to waive his NTC just so that he could "...stay on Norte's radar".

Norte is so dope, Don Cherry would get his name right on Coach's Corner.

The future name of the ACC? "NORTE'S SNOW FORT".

So Happy Birthday, dude. You totally make up for the lack of charisma/writing by the other people on this blog; That Guy I Met and What's His Ass. You clearly rule.
Here is an old picture I dug up from one of Norte's past birthday's. It has that guy, and that other dude, and the one in the back, and RICK VAIVE, and Mr. Moustache, and BORJE SALMING. Granted, Norte doesn't look that great here. I think he was sick that day and that crown was pinching him, but still. A birthday is a birthday! Have a great one, Bro-Show!

Leafs Dealt Near-Fatal Blow

Trying to find words to express everything is tough right now. I went to Pension Plan Puppets to check the wind over there. "Operation Cock Tease" as PPP put it, is now pretty much over. He says that seeing as how the pressure on the Leafs is back, they do a phoner and lose 6-2. I'd like to think that the Leafs were due for a loss right about now, which just happens to be the worst time of the year. They've had trouble with the Bruins all year, and if Claude "Let's All Get Some Z's" Julien couldn't motivate them for this game, he deserved to be fired.
No Mats, no Antro, and Matt Stajan is only one man, people! I guess the season isn't totally over. Everyone could lose in the next week. But...oh god, I'm tired.

So obviously, Kyle Wellwood reads this blog because after having me hand his angel food cake ass to him for the past season, he was clearly shamed into being close to his former excellence in the past two games. Either that or getting benched by Paul Maurice gave him a vision into Earth's days to come; a terrifying look into a future-world gone mad! The year is 2010, and diminutive hockey centerman Kyle Wellwood is riding a bus with other members of his team, the Rochester Americans! Rated PG for no violence and mild language. Now available on DVD and Blu-ray.

As for the near-fatal blow, every single one of us reading this post understands what this means. For all you ladies out there, and by ladies, I mean Loser Domi, you'll just have to imagine how this feels. Think of the worst hangover you've ever had, and then focus all that into your genitals. That was this loss for the Leafs tonight.

Is that guy skating towards me?

This is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Now it is awful in a lot of ways too, and my first reaction was one of horror, but upon second viewing I really had to laugh out loud, and hard. This is Patrick Roy's son demonstrating some of that level headedness that got his dad to the top. What is so amusing is the fact that the other goalie didn't see anything coming. I've never seen anyone try to take the high road and get the crap beat out of them harder. If I could enhance the video MI3 style you'd actually see that poor guy putting on glasses at one point hoping that Jonathan would follow at least one of those hallowed rules of punching. 1. Never hit a guy with glasses. 2. Don't tuck your thumb into your fist. 3. Try fighting someone who is remotely interested in fighting. 4. Follow through. 5. If you hold hold A longer the punch will be super strong.

VS.

It could be worse and I’ll tell you how. Without getting into the icky bits, I was conceived in Boston. Yeah get your giggling out of the way (hands where I can see them Moose) and forgive me for working blue. My parents (and older brother) lived in Boston when one of the times my old man was giving it to my mother resulted in yours truly. You ask my brother and he’d calls them the good old days. Apparently I was two weeks away from being born when my father woke up one morning saying to himself, “there is no way any child of mine will be born in the United States.” Forgive what seems like classic anti-Americanism, its not, when it comes to my old man it’s more about being pro-Canadian. So up we moved from Boston back to Toronto.That last sentence alone tells you all you need to know. If we had stayed, had I been born an American, from Boston no less, besides the obvious statement to anyone who knows me well that I would have been one of the New Kids On The Block. I would also have been a Boston Bruins fan. We moved from Boston when my brother was nearly 5 years old, his favourite number to this day is 4, cos of Bobby Orr. Had I stayed…it would have been the Bruins all the way.

As I write this, reflecting on what could have been, knowledgeable to my core, that those same Boston Bruins, a team I have zero affinity for, will get beaten by my, your, our Toronto Maple Leafs, a team I have complete affinity for. These next two games whether we win them or not are going to be exciting. And right now I feel like we can win both games, handily, with or without Mats. I have nothing but faith and even if I’m wrong, all I care about is that it’s the Toronto Maple Leafs making me feel that way.

TITLE: as yet to be determined

I realize that writing about games that have just played is sort of like reading a novelization after watching the movie but I’m going to do it anyway especially as one of the games, roll out the vitriol, was against those cheap-ass motherfuckers. First let me say that it’s amazing how little their fans want to talk hockey after losing, especially to us, cos believe me, they hate our fucking guts almost as much as we hate theirs.

Anyone who knows me knows that I hate their cheap, low rent guts. I hate their cheap low-rent guts so much that if you could hate the guts’ guts than I did and do. I hate their fucking guts’ guts times 10 to infinity…that’s how much I hate their fucking guts. Yet, as I have stated previous – due to relationships established well before the inception of their team, I am friends, close-friends (that’s still hard to say) with fans of that team.
They gloat when they win and let me tell you, they have bad breath and guess what I guarentee you are going to be spit on when they talk to you. They just smoked a bunch of cigarettes and drank a lot of coffee and they spray it when they say it.


They also say things that make you want to slap the shit out of their face. And without fail, they're always shocked that they are the only people on Earth who like alfredson. You actually need to remind these sick sick people that the man is so loathsome, detestable and terrible the he gets booed everytime he touches the puck ...in his own building.. Oh my god I hate them.
I once browbeat my 80 year old father to the point of tears for saying he liked skating on the canal...that's how much I hate that fucking team.

And as such, beating them like we did tonight means a lot - couple that with the much needed two points. It’s a testament to how our team is playing that every following game becomes the do or die situation. Their playoffs and such. And going along that thinking that’s our 4th consecutive win over that team incidentally. (Don't get me started again.)Does it make it all the sweeter then the win comes after the dismantling of the Sabres and their nearly 40 minutes of 5 on 3 play? Hello Pavel Kubina...and uh Matt Stajan, the phone is for you...it's Alyn McCauley calling.
And that the win comes without Mats in the line-up. Or Antropov or Colaiacovo. It could only have been made sweeter if Emery was in net. The game could have also been made sweeter if alfredson got the shit kicked out of him...by me in the parking lot.

Too angry?

The Norris Trophy, In Four Easy Steps

You know I once yanked my hamstring out. It was during a game that Moose and my team had to win in order to get into the playoffs. I was having one of those "awesome" games. The kind of game you refer back to when you're having one of those "shitty" games. You know the kind; the kind where you're like, really, really shitty. During those games you try and talk yourself back by saying amazingly inspiring things like, "Remember that game when I was awesome?", etc.

So it was one of those. It was the second period, I already had a goal and an assist, and I hadn't lost a draw. We were in the offensive zone and I was going to the corner when the puck took a weird turn away from me. I went to pivot the same direction of the puck while a little something called the Newtonian laws of physics demanded I keep going in a straight line. And you know who paid the price for my anti-science stance? My Adductor Magnus, that's who.

Remember when you were a kid and your mom got something that had been wrapped in a really big elastic band, and you got to play with it, shooting it everywhere? You loved that little elastic. It just seemed like there was nothing you and that elastic couldn't, wouldn't or shouldn't do with each other. You were the best of pals. Then one time you were going to fire it at something and it just broke. Right in your hand, just, *snap*. That was it. Fun's over. THAT's how it was when my hamstring went. It felt bad. Not bad like -I'm dying from all the pain I'm in- bad. More like -the human body shouldn't feel weird like this- bad.So what did I do? I hobbled to the bench, got out a roll of stick tape and did about 50 laps around my right thigh with it, as tight as I could get it. My muscle wanted out, but I had a championship to win. I went back out, scored again, won all my draws and had a winger on our team put it in our own net in the final minute to lose the game. The point I'm making is that I am a Patti Smyth level warrior, and Carlo Colaiacovo has continued his Evel Knievel like charge to maim every part of his body before the age of 26. Carlo is so good and he used to be so fun to watch. But now when he plays it's like you feel lucky when he gets up after getting rocked...or after rocking someone else. You're all, "Look everyone! He made it!" like he'd returned from some impossible suicide mission that's so crazy it just might work. Similar to when the Leafs had Lindros, or when Washingtron posts on the blog.

So I'm here to help, Carlo, because I've been there. I'm providing to you a set of instructional photos designed not just to help you regain you mobility, but to help you stay flexible as a preventative so that this never has to happen again. After all, you have a lot of other body parts to injure...I see a pretty undamaged orbital bone!

This person isn't me, BTW. Not that I look totally dissimilar to her, although I'm not 5'4, not kind of pan-Asian looking or a quarter Mexican. And I've never done any fitness modeling. And I'm a man. So actually, I look totally dissimilar to this person. Although my legs are as smooth and shapely.

Step 1
Carlo, assume this natural position

Step 2
Carlo, please stretch both your hands to the left. No, your left

Step 3
OK, now stretch your hands to your ri OH GODDAMN IT CARLO, PAY ATTENTION!

Step 4
Win Norris Trophy

Well that's it Carlo! And great job to everyone working out at home. Do these exercises every day for the rest of you career, and bring home the first Norris trophy to the Leafs since, well, ever. Remember, these exercises will help people in all walks of life. The hamstrings are used every day, in activities ranging from walking, to moonwalking. So get cracking Carlo. Good luck, and we'll see you at training camp in September!

Gretzky to Team...

"You're embarassing me! Don't you know who I am? I'm really sorry for my team everyone, they PROMISED me they were going to try their best..."

Kyle Wellwood: Metaphor

Carlo Colaiacovo got slew footed by Buffalo's Drew Stafford on Saturday night, and naturally, because it's Carlo Colaiacovo, and he plays for the Toronto Maple Leafs, it meant he blew out his knee. Every Most knee injuries occur when the knee is bent against the joint. Seeing as I'm a doctor, I can safely say I've never seen one which occurred when the knee was bent in the forward, natural direction. The reason for this is because it's Colaiacovo and he plays for the Leafs. At this rate, Bobby Orr's knee's are better than Colaiacovo's. If Carlo were a race horse, by now they'd have collected a bunch of his sperm and shot him.

~~~~

Yesterday I asked Norte to come up with a new poll for our new feature, "The Poll". He sent me something which was funny and well written, the only problem being that it was about Kyle "The Play Dies With Me" Wellwood. I told him we should think of something else because I didn't want to have the poll feature just used to rip on Wellwood; that's what the main blog is for.

I'm delighted to re-announce the great news from Saturday: That Kyle Wellwood's considerable ass was nailed to the low - straining from the weight - end of the Leafs bench against the Sabres, in a radical new move that Paul Maurice is trying out called, "PLAYER ACCOUNTABILITY". I know, I know, I had trouble fathoming it too. Apparently, if I've read my hockey Wiki properly, "Player Accountability" is when a coach of a hockey team rewards or punishes a player based on what they do or don't do on the ice. Are you following me? The "logic" being that if the player is rewarded, then they will do more of whatever they're doing and less if they are punished. Phew, my head is spinning. So say, someone like Kyle Wellwood, who I wouldn't put on the third line of the Marlies, is completely unprofessional, doesn't work-out in the off-season, doesn't strengthen his girly groin, and is so soft on the puck that he's now being represented by "Hanes Her Way". He plays like shit, doesn't compete, gives away the puck every time he has it. The Coaches gambit is, he doesn't get to skate until he plays better? Paul Maurice: Jack Adams Trophy Winner.

From here, there is no way Kyle comes back to the Leafs next year. Now, I know what you're gonna say, "But Greener, I love to blow raspberries on his puffy little cheeks!What will I do?!" To which I'll reply, "Then go get a nephew like everyone else." He is exactly what Cliff Fletcher wants to do away with on this team; uninspired, insipid, only occasionally good, and soft. Kyle Wellwood has the indistiction of becoming a metaphor for everything that has hamstrung the Leafs for three seasons. When Norte was writing about the fire that the Leafs once had, the Leafs which everyone HATED to play against, he was speaking about everything that Wellwood isn't. Will Kyle have some market value this summer? Probably a little, paired with a prospect or a draft choice. Will he after a month of no-shows next November? I wouldn't bet a single, battered fist on it.

Nobody leaves empty handed, so we're gonna cut off his hands

It struck me tonight, at the start of the second period, or maybe the middle of the period, at some point while the score was still 3 to 1, that it looked like there were 5 Kyle Wellwood’s on the ice. Full, no doubt, from his fist dipped in batter (my choice in the poll).
And worse: how predictably they played. It doesn’t take Roger Neilson to watch the Leafs try the exact same play on the rush, every single time…especially if Blake’s got the puck. (I know that Jason Blake deserves a mulligan this year, and he gets it, for sure - but at some point in your 1000th goddamn shot Jason...pass the puck.
(Shrugs)

And yes losing Mats Sundin to the evil groin injury (groin injury, gr-gr-groin in-jur-ee) and then Antropov in the first three minutes of this game is the worst thing to happen to humanity since the release of Ya Mo Be There...but some one else, anyone else...take the reins. And not just one period, one game stepping it up.
Remember a few years ago when Mats went down in the playoffs, forgive me but I think it was in a series against the Isles, and Alyn McCauley endeared himself to us forever with his heroics in that tough series? I hate to say it but with this shortened bench, I don't see an Alyn McCauley anywhere.

Tell me that sounds like band wagon jumping and I will say what fucking business is that of yours you asshole, I'll kick your fucking head in.

I continued watching the game and what struck me about our team around the 5 to 2 mark was how much like something from my past this team is.
Imagine it’s the summer and it’s 1989. Without aging myself I’m 17 years old and hanging out with a guy named John Paczek. First thing you gotta know is that we called him pollock not John not pac-zek, and not Pollock like the painter but po-lock as in racial slur. We also called him paycheck. Regardless what we called him, he was a superb guy to be friends with, particularly at 17. Paycheck liked chicks and to drink and to skateboard. And when you’re 17, and it’s the summer, that’s like the Holy Trinity.
So that summer Paycheck, who I think may still have been 16, and I find ourselves, impossibly, in rural Quebec. A city close-ish to Montreal called St-Jean-Sur-Richelieu. Now the question why were there or what brought us there remains, I’m afraid, lost for the ages. And suffice it to say statutes of limitations being what they are it may or may not have been illegal and salacious. My point in the tale is Paycheck and I, drinking underage in a Francophone peeler bar.
The club in question, Le Pink Panther, was, if memory serves, where the strippers clearly went to die. Not to say that the strippers were old but one of them danced to Mozart.
Regardless, he and I were there for the dollar shots, dollar beers and the dollar pool table. Now let me tell you, I am always wary of guys who speak other languages. When you don’t know the language it’s amazing how much “Hey after this game of pool I need to go pick up my kids from my sister's house” sounds like “The second this English pig’s back is turned I'm going to smash him across the back of the head with a pool cue and steal his shoes.” How should I know? It’s all Greek to me.
And I am clearly Anglo and worse a frigger d'ontario from Toronto no less...oh God and fucking paycheck is Polish so he's like fucking vanilla ice cream ala mode white and the extent of my French besides Voulez Vous Couche Avec Moi C'est Soir? is an imitation of Clousseau asking if your dog bites.

What the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah...Leafs lost. I'm totally gutted.

A New Way Of Expressing Myself

THERE IS NO TOMORROW, EVERYBODY IS ON THE SAME PAGE, IT'S DO OR DIE: and other cliches

It's now or never. This is for all the marbles and we are behind the 8 ball. We are still alive and we are still in the mix. We are on the outside looking in. We have to run the table. We are in the driver's seat of our own destiny. We have turned the corner. It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the fight in the dog.
We have to find a way to put pucks on the net, cos when you put the puck on the net, good things are going to happen. All of our lines have to be the hardest working lines in hockey tonight. We cannot get beaten to the puck and we cannot be content to sit on a lead. We cannot give up the first goal. We cannot give up a soft goal. We cannot give up the equalizer. We cannot muck it up in the corner.

We have to stand them up at the blue line. We have to go right through them. We have to buzz around the net. We have to pepper the goalie. We have to make good wholesale changes. We have to light the lamp, put the biscuit in the basket and find the twine. We have to go top shelf, we have to go upstairs. We have to beat them five hole. We must smell the blood in the water. We must be off to the races. We must answer the call. We must hit on all cylinders. We must play like a well oiled machine. We must go for the jugular. We must have the game in the bag. We must run roughshod over them. We must put on a clinic.

We cannot look out of synch. We cannot play to lose. We cannot play back on our heels. We cannot be on the ropes. We cannot circle the wagons. We cannot play tentatively. We cannot go to the well once too often. We cannot chip away at a lead. We cannot go quietly. We cannot let the fat lady sing. We cannot let this one slip away. We can’t let it rain or pour. We cannot let the wind out of our sails. We cannot let in a back breaker. We cannot let the roof cave in or the wheels fall off. We cannot have the final nail in the coffin. We cannot let the lights out. We cannot be a train wreck. We cannot get shellacked. We cannot play ugly.

We must play with a sense of urgency. We must draw first blood. We must not let it be a nail biter or a pressure cooker. We cannot have a see saw game. We cannot have a barn burner or a game of inches. We must fight tooth and nail. We must silence their crowd and take them out of the game. We must get the crowd into it. We must make the crowd go wild. We must electrify the fans and keep them on their feet. We must not let the clock be our enemy.


It's gut check time.

Penalty to #18. Two Minutes For HEY ARE THOSE DONUTS?!

Moose and I went to the Staples Center tonight to encourage the Kings to try and beat the Christ-are-they-boring Vancouver Canucks. We should have kept rooting. Marc Crawford decided to start Manchester Monarchs third Daniel Cloutier whose name rings a bell...I can't remember him. Was he in the NHL before? Oh well. Cloutier played fairly solid, and by that I mean he didn't let in 4 goals by the time Moose had to take his first leak. Damned by faint praise, Dan-o let the Canucks back into it with a couple of minutes left and then got completely beaten on a penalty kill in overtime. Let's just say that Steve "Hanging Out With Greener" Stamkos will have to look good in a Kings uniform. Don't worry, I'll tell him every good thing we said about him.
Weird thing happened during the game. A couple of minutes in, Alex Edler of the Canucks takes a penalty. He goes into the box and sits down. They put him on the jumbotron like they do every game, I look up, and Edler is sitting there eating a donut! It was all, "...wha..."? It was the weirdest thing I'd ever seen. Moose and I couldn't figure it out. Has anyone ever seen that? Has anyone seen Moose figure anything out?

~~~

I also walked past Ru Paul on Santa Monica Blvd. the other day, and I swear to you all, the first thing that came to my mind was, "So that's what Hal Gill looks like!" I'm not sure if Hal Gill sports a red leather Michael Jackson "Beat It" jacket like Ru had on, but what Hal Gill does behind the closed doors of his bedroom is simply none of our concern.

Look! I've added a poll to our pushily amusing HS/HS coterie of features! Please take some time with a coffee and consider your polling options. This weeks poll is: What is Kyle Wellwood Eating Right Now? As always, we know you have a choice of polls, and we appreciate you choosing HS/HS polls. Serving you faithfully since last night.