PLANNING THE RIOT ROUTE

Your spectacular Montreal Canadiens have kicked down the door of adversity yet again and are furiously pillaging the spoils of an unsuspecting lot of playoff hopefuls. Kicked out of the infirmary for repeated pillow-fights, Tricolore players were forced to reassume a roster position. This, curiously, has led to the icing of a more dangerous team and, oddly, amounting victories as a result. Now, only a cataclysmic disaster of biblical proportions could hope to slow down The Beautiful Team at this point as they stage, once again, a glorious late season rush to secure a spot in the Stanley Cup playoffs. Let no once accuse the Sainte-Flannelle of lacking a flair for the dramatic. … Or they will be shot.
Having thereby established the utter dominance of the Habs’ position in the balance of gods and men, it stands to reason that the Cup is once again set to return home, give its mom a hug and maybe see if it can still fit in its baby cradle. We therefore decided how wonderful it would be if we went down to the streets and talked to the people about how they planned to fete this imminent occasion. Real people. Off the cuff.
We met with Philippe. 18-years-old. Laval resident.
“I will be very appy. I like Canadien a lot. I ope I see de Cup in de street on de day, you know? But when we de Cup, on de night, me and my friends will go in de downtown, you know? And trow garbage can in windows. We are so excite, you know?”
We talked to Dee-Zee Tran. 23-years-old. Did not disclose residence.
“I love when the Canadians win. Place goes nuts. Rich folks get scared, call the cops, and tell’em to form barricades around their stuff. The rest is up for grabs, man! Go Habs go!”
We had a chat with Reginald Crombie. Did not disclose age. Did not disclose residence.
“It was so pretty in 1993, you should’ve seen it. So pretty. I had my bottle of tequila with me and I was a little drunk. Got into a fight with some cop, don’t remember why. Managed to get away from’m but he ripped my shirt. Had to take it off. So there I was with a ripped shirt, a bottle of tequila, and my lighter. It kind of all just came together, you know? Guy left his sun-roof open and just parked all alone. Begging for it. That was my first cocktail, and I knew I was in love. I’m really excited; we have a really good team.”
Finally, we spoke to a man who did not disclose his name, his age or his residence.
“The more pigs we got on the street watchin those fools suits us just ****in fine. Got some ****in business to take care of and it ain’t gonna be pretty. The best part is that we burn everything down and nobody knows it wasn’t those jackasses who done it. Straight-up snatch’n’grab with a score to settle thrown in. Don’t need bullets; baseball bats will do, light a match, get the **** out. ****in pigs none the wiser. That’s why the Canadiens are the best team in the world; you couldn’t get away with this **** anywhere else. Go Habs go, man.”
Aaah, Montreal. Can she get more elegant?
Real people. Real issues. Live, from the streets, Habsbros brings you the straight dope.
More of it as events warrant.