ROPE-A-DOPE

MONTREAL - As game 3 of the Eastern Conference Quarter-Finals looms upon us, the Montreal Canadiens' season appears to hang in the balance. Throngs of Habs supporters chew their nails - fingers and toes - as nervous butterflies make their presence felt. But fret not ye faithful...

We've got them where we want them...

Perhaps the season has looked like a massive poo-bomb to you? Perhaps the inconsistent play of Carey Price over the course of the entire regular-season had you worried? What of the fact that the Canadiens came into the playoffs with Saku "little shorty-pants" Koivu as their only legitimate offensive center?

Maybe you need reminding of just who the Kostitsyn brothers are? Let me help you... They are the brothers who got themselves into trouble for hanging around drug-dealers. You know the guys. They're the ones that got completely outplayed by Toronto's Mikhail Grabovski for just about the entire season.

Remember when Alex Kovalev was the one you wanted traded because he was bringing down the team? Oh! And what about that time when we all identified a defenseman as a pressing need so we went out and got some old geezer that will surely retire next season?

Of course you may be considering the fact that we fired the coach really late in the season and replaced him with the GM, a smart man to be sure, but one with a pretty terrible record. But what else are you gonna do when the team is up for sale? You can't just go out and hire better coaches.

Perhaps you recall the best game of the season? You know the one. Yeah, that game where Alex Kovalev got the first star and won himself a Honda? Those were good times. Didn't count though. But good times nonetheless.

You might even be asking yourself why the best line for much of the season was the 4th line. Fortunately, things have changed and they aren't our best line anymore... Phew... Now they are completely ineffective. Thank goodness...

Well all this stuff may look like a total mess, but trust me. That's been the plan all along. The Canadiens' brass has carefully laid plans for the last 5 years to get us to this moment. This whole season has been a rope-a-dope season. For the Boston Bruins believe that, up two games to none, they have the Canadiens by the proverbial balls. But that's just what we want them to think.

Game on, boys... Game on...

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

Huzzah! The most storied franchise in the history of the world has found a chink in the armour of the NHL and has managed to squeeze its way through to the Holy Dance despite the best efforts of its archnemesis, the Beantown Bruins, who sent fire and hell after Komisarek only to find a poop-eating grin waiting for them. Armageddon and chaos united their abilities and sought to crush the Artiste’s spirit and got a blazing top-corner goal as a response.

Your cheap reporter (pictured left), unable to afford a loge at the Garden was forced to sit amongst the cattle. Happening to glance over, he noticed a man removing his black and gold attire and putting on the fabled red’white’n’blue. "Hadn’t done that in a year!" he exclaimed to the surprise of yours truly and to the detriment of the departing. "Who are you, sir?" asked your perspicacious reporter. "Mentum," said the stranger "first name, Moe." And once the CH was on his back, hot dog if he didn’t grow a foot!

The Dance awaits. And if the Bruins aren’t peeing in their pants right now? They dang well should be. Your reporter has it on divine sources (Moe again) that the most glorious team since the dawn of humanity has a wager going with the Beaners. Pollock SWORE Montreal would beat Boston 75% of the time in the playoffs. It is said that if the Habs serve the Beaners another desparing loss during these playoffs, the 75% is finally attained and GM Chiarelli must change the name of his team from the Boston Bruins to Montreal’s Woman.

Fearing the worst, Chiarelli already commissioned the creation of the new team logo. The design was to denote a strong inclination towards femininity as well as the fragile state of their collective psyches. The logo pictured left is the one they finally settled on, a delicate pink "B" inside a white egg resting on its side. Not bad! We can only hope to see this beautiful coat of arms prancing about the Bell Centre ice come next automn, a fitting demise to the brawn of Boston and the most ridiculous underachievers against whom we’ve had the pleasure of crossing swords. Perhaps one day, if the Beaners do their best to emulate the Habs to the point of obsession, they might attain half of their prestige.

More updates when Pittsburgh goes down.

KOVALEV: HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?

MONTREAL - As if to give the media the finger and the fans a thumbs-up, Alex Kovalev has been on fire of late. No, let me rephrase that: he's been the God-damn man.

Kovalev is racking up points at a torrid pace having scored 7 points in two games. If he keeps this up, he'll be a point-a-game player (if the NHL suddenly decides to extend the season to 84 games). And that, my friends is a big "F-U" to all those that were down on him.

Your humble reporter, however, never gave up hope and never stopped believing. I was there through thick and thin. When times were bad, I let Alex cry on my shoulder and patted him gently until he finally went to sleep. When times were good, I quietly disposed of the dead hookers. Because that's what a good friend does.

Saturday night against the Leafs, Kovalev showed you all what he was made of: gold. Pure, unadulterated, Honda-driving, gold. Gold with hands of diamonds. Gold with a sexy beard. Gold with a shot so precise, Jesus himself allowed a single tear of joy to stream down his cheek at the site of its beauty. Gold so brilliant, Mr. T should be wearing Kovalev around his neck.

The game against the Leafs was men against babies. And Kovalev did what any real man would do to a baby. He beat it down until it was bruised and bloodied with spirit broken. Take that, you damn dirty baby!

L'Artiste is back, and the show is just beginning.