Wednesday, January 28, 2009


SOMEWHERE - So the Canadiens haven't been doing so well lately. You might have noticed. Another thing you might have noticed is that despite the play of the overall team, one player stands above the rest; insisting to play at 110%. A monster, you might say (if that is something you typically say).

Maxime Lapierre has played extremely well all year. But where did that come from? Well, yours truly found the answer to that question several months ago as the season began. I have held the secret for long enough. To be truly free, I must exercise it to you, the public.

So you likely assumed, as I assumed, that Lapierre and the other Canadiens players simply went back to their hotels after games to read passages from The Bible to little orphan children.

Well, YOU were wrong...

When I found that this was not the case, I felt as though my innocence had been stolen from me like a child learning that Santa is A LIE! Well, that night, Lapierre showed his true colors... And I for one could never again cheer for him the way I'd cheered for other players in the past...

I could only cheer MORE!

As I followed him deep into the night, I saw him enter some Saloon. After much negotiating (and several hours) with the bouncer, I too entered the pub. What I found was that the patrons of the speakeasy had been putting the witching hour to good use. They'd imbibed heavily, and any one of those fellas'd tell you the whole wingding'd gone like eggs in coffee. Unfortunately, just as I entered, everyone had reached an agreement: it was about time to relocate this hootenanny to some sleazy brothel.

But before exiting the fine establishment, I searched out Lapierre and found him demanding a nightcap before leaving. He slurred some instruction to the barkeep that he'd like whatever's "in that bottle over there." The barkeep ventured that perhaps Lapierre had had enough, but Maxime assured him of the contrary with a redfaced rebuttal.

Of course, Lapierre was delighted that the hootenanny continued into the night with all these new faces on top of this peculiar flat surface, whatever it is (I call it "ground"). He slured drunken tidings of merriment to this effect, remarking how he was "jush so happy to shee all these wunnerful pee-hic-pull..." Then I saw him take his celebratory swig...

He has never been the same again...

You and I will never know what was in that bottle that transformed him thusly. All I know for sure is: we need more.

More updates as events warrant.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


The All-Star Game came to a close this weekend in the most beautiful City in the world, the City that is Hockey and all across the Bell and America and around the world, one name would resonate like an MVP 160hp Honda engine. Aleksey Vyacheslavovich Kovalyov. Vroom, vroom, they say.

Despite recurring complaints by hallucinating amateurs, the All-Star Game was in fact, a furiously disputed, fast-skating, heavy-hitting, no-holds-barred exercise in gritty, prideful sportsmanship that had the referees deciding wisely to put away their whistles. It took only a blatantly obvious hook by defenseman Mikael Komisarov in overtime to draw the striped men out of their apathy and to call the game’s only penalty.

What followed was a three against four defensive shutdown the likes of which Hockey Planet may never witness again. Blistering slapshots and heavy wristers were blocked with pad, skate and teeth to get the job done and the puck squirted across the blue by three overworked but determined Eastern All-Stars. The fans roared their approval at the gauntlet thusly survived to force the shootout.

Here is where Vyacheslav (or "Alex" as some know him) put his stamp on the whole affair. It should, first of all, be mentioned that not only can Vyacheslav get an assist just by going to the bathroom, not only can he hit every post at whim and not only he can do so in every period of the game, including overtime, but he can also put it. In. The net.

His first goal of the game, a brilliant changeup off a breakaway. His second, a brilliant backhand shelf off a breakaway that NO ONE could have foreseen. His three points in the game were part of Operation: Punch, Jab and Assess... And then came Shock and Awe.

The shootout winner...the shootout winner that automatically had him driving the Honda to the elevator and down to his car...after which he tipped the garage attendant...with a Honda...

The shooutout winner: was a diabolical piercing stare from Hades itself, a laser-enhanced pellet from an over-gunpowdered blunderbuss, a crystalline Zeus bolt with the words "Mama says hi" stenciled on its side, a wicked gift that would have made the Dark Prince blush in envy, a fitting conclusion to such a defining episode of high-stakes hockey, with Vyacheslav delivering the boon.

No puck has ever entered a right shelf with such thorough conviction since the dawn of time.

Hockey Planet bows in gratitude.More updates as events warrant.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


MONTREAL - Most fans don't appreciate that subtleties of acquiring a superstar - or any player for that matter - and the business impact it has on your team. Thus, for those of you new to the process, allow me to fill you in.

Some teams are really big (Detroit, Toronto, Montreal, etc.). Others are not so big (Carolina, Phoenix, Tampa Bay, etc.). Some are kind of medium sized (Calgary, Boston, Vancouver, etc.). In fact, you could probably even make a graph of the sizes of different teams if you wanted to. But all teams have a few things in common: a rapidly changing financial market, a high degree of roster turn-over, and a guy in marketing named Bob who has huge sweat-stains under his armpits (even in December).

Often these teams find themselves in an awkward position. A player has decided to leave the team for one reason or another (usually for something very self-centered like having a baby or being severely mauled in a tiger attack) and they (the team) need to fill the position quickly and at low expense. This is an arduous process full of twists and turns. I mean, you can't just pick someone up off the street! Plus who wants street people in their lineup? Street people are stinky.

Luckily, a team always has other teams it can to turn to. The "other" team will take on the task taking the first team's mega-superstar off its hands and provide them with good, capable people that can be inserted into the lineup with minimal training and expense.

I mean, sure, the first team might will give the "other" team a description of the position they need filled and the skills required to perform it, but they take what they can get and ask for another when the time comes (see "Josef Balej for Alex Kovalev").

So in the end, the message is that the original team may not exactly be getting the best person(s) for the job. Whereas yesterday they had a talented, resourceful, veteran player, today they have some dipshits, fresh out of junior, one of which was only drafted because he promised the scout he would work on his drooling problem.

This is where teams face a creative challenge, namely, putting these troglodytes where they can do the least amount of harm.

So Tampa, if the Canadiens offer you Higgins, Plekanec, Subban, and some draft picks for your man Lecavalier... Well, you better damn well take them.

More updates as events warrant.

Friday, January 9, 2009


The word "Crushing" is defined as: Suppression, the forceful prevention of accomplishment, whatever the leafs deem such to be;
Putting down by power or authority, either physically or spiritually, by laughing adversaries out of the building or booing them to the dogs and back;
Devastating, often used in combination with Alexei Vyacheslavovich Kovaliov;
Oppressing, to come down on or keep down by unjust use of one's Red, White and Blue Authority;
To humiliate or to depress completely, as one would a pancake;
Broken, to subdue or bring low in condition or status across Canada and Hockey Planet.
Now that no doubt remains in the application of such relevant characterization, your focused reporter can safely relate that the blue hockey leaves were CRUSHED last night in Montreal. No amount of skating from Moore, whining from Wilson, head-shaking from Burke, punching from Mayday and ref-pushing from Grabovski could delay the unstoppable tide, the unrelenting wave, the furious armada of your Montreal Canadiens, scratch that, your Montreal Bulldogs. (boy, the leafs suck, don’t they?)
There used to be a time when rookies brought up to the big club would have to tiptoe through the minefield of oppositional dedication. No more. Now, they play against the leafs and it’s like ice cream for freaks.
"Rivalry," your uninhibited reporter’s hairy ass.
Next game, please.
And contrary to Thursday night's somnambulant smackdown, we'll have an actual HOCKEY team come to Montreal. If there are fireworks, it's because with Theo (pictured left), the sky's the limit. No goaltender in the history of the league can tapdance to the beat of his OWN shaking knees. When they were handing out mental toughness, Theo was getting his Propecia prescription filled out. Capable of the most magical prowesses and the most godawful breakdowns, many biographers have tried to lay down his story but the paper they write it on biodegrades too quickly. This is not to say that Theo is terrible, just that he sucks, and that every night, all the little boys and little girls PRAY to see him in the opposing net. Well, Saturday night is Treat night!
More updates as events warrant.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Tanguay Out, Bush In

MONTREAL - With the news that Alex Tanguay will be out of the lineup for at least 6 weeks, the Montreal Canadiens have turned to an unexpected source for answers. Fresh off screwing the United States economy and, indeed, that of the entire world, George W. Bush (pictured left) will take Tanguay's place on the Habs' roster.

Unsure as to why the Canadiens would bring in such a complete douche-bag, this intrepid reporter went in to the Lion's Den to ask the tough questions.

When I asked him if he thought he would do a good job replacing Tanguay, ex-President Bush said simply that he was excited to join the roster and added, "nobody will be able to do this job as resentfully as I can."

Bush excels at taking super powers and systematically driving them into the ground with extreme prejudice. So to bring him into the lineup is a bold move to be sure. Perhaps this is a move by the Canadiens brass to "play possum"; that or George H. Bush has something on Gillette.

Obviously unfamiliar with the sport of hockey, Bush Jr. asked me about the ceremonial coin-toss. Before I could answer, he drifted away into some sort of fantasy-world in which he lamented about how the coin-toss exacerbated the randomness of life.

In keeping with the odd theme, the Canadiens announced another bizarre move that will see Britney Spears (pictured right) replace Youppie as the new Canadiens mascot.

Likely in completely unrelated news, MaxPac is reportedly demanding a trade.

More updates as events warrant.