Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Contract Out!

My first impression of the Ryder/Cole swap was undoubtedly influenced by my lasting feeling that Michael Ryder is the worst 30-goal scorer in the NHL. Also, I am still impacted by how terrific Cole was on a horrible team last year. Power forward dot com.

But this year Cole has struggled. Struggled with his own sense of belonging in the NHL and I can assure you his comments after the lockout ended had me fearing that his commitment to the game had faded. Fades only work if you happen to be Kid n' Play. For Cole, it spelled multiple endings.  The end of his reign as the team's best player. It spelled the end of the first line. It spelled the end of life in Montreal.

In return we get a younger, more prolific, cheaper player with a UFA tag at year's end. We get a guy who needs little adjustment to the insanity that is Montreal. We get a power play specialist who can revive a lackluster squad. We get a happy go lucky on the verge of aloof guy who players always enjoyed in the room.

Contract wise, it's the ying to Gauthier's yang. It's a public disavowal of the Cole signing. It's the removal of what everyone was saying about the trade: we would hate it in its last 2 years.

So Bravo to Cole for giving everything last year. A marvel to watch. Congrats to Bergevin for knowing when to draw a line and for striving for continuous improvement.

Welcome back, Captain Aloof.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Lest we forget

As I huddled next to a radio here in Halifax listening to the Habs game like a Bosnian refugee waiting to hear it's safe to go outside,  I realized that I will never again take my television for granted.   Never again will I complain of a non HD picture.   I will never again wish bodily harm on Marc Denis. I will remember my evening of horrors.   I will remember having to listen to John Bartlett yelp and imagine what the hell was going on on the ice.   I will remember.

I felt trapped.   I felt isolated.   I sometimes wonder what it was like for Ann Frank.   Now I know.   Except I was at the Westin in a heavenly bed with a Harbor view enjoying a hot fudge sundae,  but you get the idea.

That was incredibly frustrating.   Having to listen to the Habs pepper Bishop with 40 something shots,  hearing the rubber ring off the post,  imagining Bartlett so close to climax.

Although the performance was solid, it still hurts like a bitch to drop another point that way.   When you have 2 chances to win a shootout on the road,  you gotta finish.   Unfortunately,  Gallagher and Gionta forgot that they have fans that sit there and stare at aging wallpaper as they listen to them play hockey.  I said LISTEN!  I felt so alone.   So discarded.  Like a Taiwanese male prostitute at a gay pride parade.

I don't want to be dramatic,  but the entire season is now lost.  I don't even see the point in returning to la belle province.  I might as well stay here and say pasta as often as I please.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Habs win again, shoving it right up Tortellini's ass.

That felt goooooooood.  After our win in New York earlier this week, The Ranger's bench boss thought it appropriate to lump the Habs' performance in with his team's putrid showing.  We beat his team in their own rink, took their fans out of it and he thought the best defense was : "I know you are but what am I"?  What are you?  You're 9th place motherfucker.  You're the most underachieving team this season. You're a yeast infection.  Booya.

So for good measure, we thumped you 3-0.  Happy now?  Prick.  Take it like a man when you get spanked.

Now on to more important things.  Michel Therrien once again waved his magic wand and pulled out line combinations right out of his rectum.  Last night, with Bourque out with the flu and Gallagher back in, we saw Eller-Galchenyuck-Cole take over in the 2nd period.  Cole started it off with a lucky one and then Eller and Galchenyuck went to work on a pretty little number.  Although the Islander fumble wasn't all on Carey, You felt he had a little something extra to prove.  He stood tall and once again made it all look so easy.

So now the tough part.  8 of the next 10 on the road.  Safe to say that the next 10 games will determine who this team is.  They're either gonna contend for the division, or slip back down to 6-8th place.  After seeing the performances of the last few games, it's hard to imagine this team falling off.  Seems like someone different steps up every game.  The first 5 games were the 4th line and the kids.  The Gionta, Pleky and Bourque took over.  Now Pacioretty is back to his old self.  The second one line starts to fade, another one picks up the slack.  Signs of a great team or simply a lucky run?  Who the hell knows.  The only thing I know is that Django better win best picture.

TLF right in Torts' face bizzatch.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Ok Seriously Was That Really Necessary

Let me make it perfectly clear. 2-goal leads in the third period are the equivalent of say, I dunno, jail breaking in the middle of the night when all the guards are encased in that carbon shit Han Solo was trapped in for 4 hours. It's a good head start.

Now unless those jail guards come out of the Solo freeze and freaking warp speed to nab your jail breaking ass, you better bag those 2 points proper. That's a blown lead that would make a South African prosecution team proud.

And to concede the game to the Islanders. Where was your islander pride last night, Montreal. You missed a glorious opportunity to assert our claim as the better island. Now people will think our island is the lesser island.

So revenge of the island comes tonight as we can take on the island of Manhattan and shame it to no end.

Don't blame Carey Price for this loss. Don't blame the coach. Don't blame Daniel Day-Lewis for convincing me after having seen Lincoln that he could play the part of calculus in a movie about algebra. Blame Juha Lind who continues to find ways to curse this team.

The good Montreal Canadiens need to learn how to become the great Montreal Canadiens and these numerous collapses, dating back to last year, speak to a fragility that will dissipate with every new win. But when they believe in themselves a tad too much we've seen that cross into arrogance and complacency. That leads them to ease off the gas and voilà, blown leads galore. Believing in yourself doesn't mean the win will come to you. It means you believe you can make the win come to you. You don't stop doing everything that got you to the brink of victory and hope you can bank on a carryover effect. Despite what Juha Lind may believe.

So boys, recognize your talent, use it wisely, seize the opportunity of the carbon freeze and bag the points YOU put within reach.

Avenge the Island for the love of all that is good and sacred and spelled in Italian culinary verbiage.

...

Freakin Juha Lind...

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Habs win game but lose Gallagher, but take over first, but lose Pacioretty.

You thought last post was bipolar?  Now I'm really not sure what to do with myself.  After a nice home win vs Philly, I usually call my favorite transvestite hooker and have a cocaine party with her/him.  But this one feels a little hollow.  Sure we took over first place.  Sure Budaj showed he can still win a game once in a while.  But we may have lost 2 key pieces.  Both Gallagher and Pacioretty went down with upper body injuries.  Gallagher's looked like it might be a concussion, or a shoulder. Pacioretty collided with the net faster than a paraplegic grandmother running at full speed, so I'm not really sure what happened there.

In any case, they pulled off a win versus a team that, although is struggling  is capable of beating any team on any given night.  The line juggling payed off and ice time for the Dmen was balanced with PK inching his way towards the 22-23 minutes he should be getting.  All in all, a solid game to cap off a perfect week where the Habs didn't play their best.  And this week was important to bank a few points.  They play 4 tough games in 6 nights against the Hurricanes Isles and Rangers and this perfect week might seem like a distant memory.  Or they can win 3 out of 4.  But they might also fall out of playoff contention.  Unless of course they sweep.  But that will be tough if Gallagher and Pacioretty are dead.  But they might just be day-to-day.  Unless they have the Ebola virus.

TLF bitches.  (That means Triple-Low-Five, and it's how I will be signing off from now on)

Friday, February 15, 2013

Habs putting together the most horrifying winning streak ever.

Disclaimer: The following post is bipolar

So the Habs rolled into south Florida last night with a chip on their shoulder.  I mean an actual chip.  Apparently Michel Therrien is a notorious Pringles lover and he leaves crumbs everywhere.  After the ugliest win ever in Tampa, you would think the team would come flying out and drown the Panthers in a relentless series of attacks.  Instead, they drowned their fans in a pool of our own tears.  Tears of boredom.  Holy shit was that brutal!  Don't get me wrong, I'll take the 4 points on the road, but if there was an Oscar for most unwatchable hockey performance, that game would have won.  But you know what, enough with the bitching.  This team is overachieving and I think it's time I acknowledge that.  This is me officially acknowledging the overachieving of this team.  They're sitting in 5th place with 17 points when they could easily be at 19 had they not dropped a couple points last week.  19 would put them tied for 1st.  I repeat, this team is a bullshit goal and a stupid penalty away from topping the east.  But let's not kid ourselves.  This team is not a first place team.  But the fact is that they are where they are with Cole not doing much, Pacioretty not scoring AT ALL and PK missing 6 games.  So it's safe to say that if a couple more things fall into place, they could make a little run.  And that's saying a lot for a team that finished dead last in the east last year and only added a few 3rd and 4th liners and 2 rookies.  So this frustrated blogger will take it easy and enjoy the ride.  Now excuse me while I triple-low-five my grandmother.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Habs put the Turd in Saturday

There are few words that could be used to describe what took place Saturday night at the Bell Center.  Here are a few examples.

Garbage: As in the show they put on for their fans was pure Garbage.

Lazy: As in the defensive coverage was lazier than a one legged hooker.

Vaginal: As in our net presence was vaginal.

Putrid: As in our team execution and finish was putrid.

And finally, Turd.  As in the effort put forward was reminiscent of a floating Turd in a stagnant pool of urine infused toilet water.

Is it me or should a professional hockey team not need any help getting all riled up for a Hockey Night in Canada home game against their hated rival?  What the fuck was that?  It took less than a minute and it was already over.  And to make things worse, I was not only in attendance, but sitting on row FF.  FF as in Fucking Fuckerson was that a stinker.  There will always be a few games like that during the season.  But at home?  Against the Leafs?  After they beat us in our opener?  Knowing they could leapfrog us in the standings? Against the Leafs?  That must have been the first time a team gets 37 shots on net and loses 6-0 at home.  And of those 37 shots on net, maybe 2 were threatening.  Even the fight filled 3rd period didn't make me feel better.  Probably because we lost most of those fights too.  What a hot steaming pile of feces that was.  We didn't even have Komisarek to boo. 

The only part I somewhat enjoyed was when Pacioretty lost his shit after Grabovski bit him.  That wasn't a typo.  That little bitch bit him.  As of this moment, I will focus all my energy on hoping Grabovski gets eaten by a bear.  He is by far the 2nd most hated person in my universe.  # 1 goes to a special lady.  The new chick who MCs the games.  She is the worst human being walking this earth.  I want to kill her with my bare hands.

This is what happens when you ban the triple low 5.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Ryan White Doesn't Enjoy 4-2 Leads or Discipline,..or Coaches

Third time may well land you in Hab jail, or Hamilton, or in a small 2-bedroom in Vaudreuil.

Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, why must you make it so hard on Michel.

I can imagine the email exchange between the two:

Hey coach, what can I say, stoopid penalty again. Lol! I'll be careful next time. See you on Saturday, hope I can make it into the starting lineup. lol!

Ryan,

If I could chew out your kidneys I would. Your ears are so sof Ryan. I never see ears sof like this.

And there you have it.

Another loss delivered in part by Whitey.

Of course blowing the whistle after 4 hours of goalmouth scrambling could also have been an option but hey, what do I know.

I do know this. 95% percent of the hockey the Habs have played in 10 games this season has been more than good.

When Price is in the nets things usually go extremely well.

No panic. Weird losses. Stubborn young forward. Rookies still amazing to watch. PK being PK.

All is well that ends well. Not you, Ryan.

Monday, February 4, 2013

The Sounds of Silence Were Pissing Me Off


I can't let this blog go to waste.

Day in day out I log on hoping to find something enjoyable, hoping to learn something even.

Nothing.

Therrien this and Gionta that and boo-hoo this and Carey that.

DC has chased me out of hibernation - no longer can I allow our reader to suffer. Mom, you've suffered enough. (I know, DC's mom doesn't read her own son's blog).

So here I am. Here I am. Some of you may recognize here my obscure reference to a more than average   UB40 song. Good for you, that was not an easy one.

So my triumphant return to blogging finds me contemplating the fate of your 6-2 Habs. Now normally when you put 6-2 and Habs in the same sentence you would expect that sentence to read, Coyotes trounce Habs 6-2.

Not this Gally-laden bunch.

Not this merry group of sans-triple-low-five soldiers.

These boys can play.

This weekend is indicative of what this team can do and must do to win. Make the listless teams pay the price for taking a night off - grind a tight-checking game out and hang on for the win. Oh, yes, and we'll take horrendous refereeing too for that matter. All part of this mosaic of win. That's for you, Charlie Sheen.

The Saturday Sabre game was some of the most relaxing hockey imaginable. One team on, the other off and a couple of funks out the door. The Sabres handed David Desharnais and Lars Eller the right dose of time and space to allow the two Habs to skate out of hockey's dog house. Curiously, Eller's 3-point night was rewarded with a demotion to the 4th line the next game.

6-1 wins don't need much dissecting. One team does everything right, the other watches a team do everything right. Helplessly.

Special mention to the rookies. Find me an 18-year old who can produce the kind of pass Galchenyuk delivered on the Eller goal and I'll tell you to ease up on that crazy cereal. (yup, PK and I both have some rust to shake off). Gallagher is turning into a more than compelling story. His skill is being dwarfed by his enthusiasm over his plight - and that's saying a lot. We're watching two boys grow up together under an impossible spotlight and THRIVE. This is not your Montreal of old. It's like the 2 kids are comforted by each other's presence on the same team, on the same line, on the same path.

2-1 wins are more characteristic of a team's ability to do many difficult things right. The right approach to defence, to 5 on 5 hockey and to the Buddhism. (that's what I'm told Therrien has asked the team to buy into - a team concept replete with the Buddha. Just like Buddha himself, the fans are all smiles).

Carey Price stands back quietly through this all and has ample time to ask himself, when was the last time being this good was this easy. He made 30 stops last night which usually makes for a hard day's work. And it must have been, but it wasn't obvious to us and that denotes a system where everything is in its right place. Including Scott Gomez and Andrei Kostitsyn being not in Montreal.

There was a football game last night. Beyonce beyonced. The Ravens were ravenous and the lights took a breather for 34 minutes. The Niners flubbed 4 attempts at goal after having decided that affording Baltimore a 22-point lead was enticing enough to realize that this was the FUCKING SUPER BOWL. You got what you deserved, Harbaugh.

Thanks to DC for holding the fort and entertaining mum..wait...